The Traitor. Mason pov

I sipped my coffee, the sharp sweetness clashing with the bitterness in my chest. The café felt smaller than I remembered, almost suffocating under the warm glow of its chandeliers. This was where I used to work. This was also where Leo had once cornered me, his voice a low threat, warning that I must expose everything about Lila.

Now, the place was quiet, save for the soft hum of a sorrowful tune drifting from the old speakers. A slow dirge. Fitting.

I sat alone, fingers clamped around my phone, my pulse thrumming in time with my shallow breaths. I was waiting. Any moment now, I would receive confirmation from the masked men I had hired. My orders had been clear: take care of both Leo and Lila. I couldn't afford loose ends.

My mind churned with possibilities.

There were only two outcomes. Either they succeeded, and both of them were erased from the equation—a clean victory. Or they failed, which came with its own set of complications.