Chapter 4 - The Fall of Mason RuskThe standoff inside the service corridor took less than forty seconds.
Realizing his financial leverage was completely destroyed, Mason pulled his weapon, aiming it straight at Clara’s chest.
"You little fat bitch—" Mason snarled.
He never finished the sentence.
Before his finger could touch the trigger, I stepped into his line of sight, drawing my suppressed sidearm with lightning speed.
THWIP! THWIP!
Two quiet rounds bit cleanly through Mason’s shoulder and knee.
Mason let out a choked shriek of pain, dropping his gun onto the carpet, falling hard onto his knees before me. His three enforcers attempted to draw their sidearms, but my secondary security team—led by my loyal chief lieutenant, Leo—flooded through the service doors, surrounding them with automatic weapons.
The entire exchange was executed behind the heavy velvet drapes of the West wing corridor, completely invisible to the four hundred billionaires dancing under the chandeliers in the main ballroom.
I stepped up to Mason, my heavy leather shoe coming down flat against his chest, driving his groveling frame flat against the floorboards.
"You broke my rule, Mason," I whispered, leaning down until my face was inches from his pale, sweating forehead. "You brought fentanyl into my city. And you pointed a gun at my woman."
"Adrian... please!" Mason whimpered pathetically, tears of pure terror spilling down his face. "Sloan forced me! He threatened my family!"
"Take him to the lower holding docks," I ordered Leo without looking back. "And tell Patrick Sloan... that I am coming for his West River operation at midnight."
"Yes, Don Vale," Leo replied, dragging Mason and his men out through the rear loading bay in heavy steel chains.
I turned around, holstering my sidearm, adjusting my tuxedo lapels, looking at Clara.
She stood near the velvet drapes, her emerald dress unruffled, her dark hair glowing under the wall sconces, her hazel eyes watching me with a deep, weightless pride.
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"Are you uninjured, Clara?" I asked softly, my voice dropping its lethal edge.
"I'm perfect, Adrian," Clara smiled warmth, holding out her hand. "Shall we finish our dance?"
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