‘Lykos, I would say it’s a pleasure, but we both know that would be a lie,’ Mason chides as I enter his office.
Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. You’d think by now his ire toward me would have waned, but if anything, I feel like it’s only grown. We see each other at family gatherings, and we are always cordial, but I know he has words for me. He keeps whatever snide remarks or resentment he harbors to himself. It’s the one thing I do admire about him: Charlie comes first, and he’ll sacrifice his comfort to ensure hers.
Before I have a chance to respond, he adds, ‘This better have nothing to do with my wife.’ He accentuates the last word with a harshness that turns the entirety of the sentence into a threat, but I pay it no mind. I don’t care to go to war with Mason Croft, nor do I want his wife. However, I understand how a man forced to endure the presence of someone who has tasted his wife could be vexing.
I keep my face neutral while, internally, I smile. Not much ruffles the man, and I take great pride in knowing I affect him. I stroll up to one of the wingback chairs flanking his desk, and take a seat, crossing my leg over my knee at the ankle before saying, ‘I’m here to discuss Vivian.’
His brows slightly raise, though I know my words didn’t shock him. It’s no secret we are involved—another reason I find the jealousy he harbors toward me amusing. ‘What do you expect to get out of me that you don’t already know?’
I rub my jaw and bite my tongue so it doesn’t strike without cause. His words aren’t misplaced. They are expected. I’m simply pissed that I’ve had to come here in the first place. My business is my own. I don’t care to air my problems to the world, but Vivian also means a lot to me, and Mason is her best friend. They practically grew up together.
Movement pulls me from my thoughts, and my eyes follow him as he makes his way to what must be a wet bar between his office and an ensuite because I hear the clinking of ice before he returns with two glasses of amber liquid.
‘Why would I help you, Lykos?’
That’s a good question. He has no good reason to help me; these are all things I knew before coming here. I’m not so proud that I won’t ask for help. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not something I make a habit of, but I also know the only way to close the gap between my pride and her heart is to get out of my own way. Vivian may have shared parts of herself with me, parts that I have no doubt she’s shared with no one else, but that’s all they were. Pieces. She and I are similar in that way, always on guard, never wholly trusting someone with the entire truth for fear that letting them in will only give them the power to leave us broken beyond repair, should they choose to turn away.
But Vivian is worth the risk. I meant it when I told her I’d tell her anything. All she needed to do was ask. The problem is, she never gave me a chance. The morning after she let Sebastian and me take her on the pool deck, I went for a jog, and when I returned home, she was gone. While I now know why, it doesn’t change the half-truths; even her admissions today were tempered.
Of all people, Mason Croft knows what it’s like to have his heart walk out on him, to only have half of the story, and to want everything he shouldn’t, and because of that, I’m hoping he’ll hear the truth in my words. I take the glass he extends my way out of kindness and custom, but I have no intention of drinking it. Mason knows I don’t drink, but I assume my unexpected appearance at his office has him rattled, and the offering is simply out of habit.
He takes a long pull from his drink as he returns to his seat. ‘Start talking, Lykos, and it better be good. You know she means more to me than you ever could.’
I swirl the amber liquid in my glass, inhaling its spicy, intoxicating notes before finding the right words. ‘Because I love her.’ I’ll admit those were not the words I saw myself sharing today with Mason Croft, but they are the only ones that feel right. I’m not here to coerce or intimidate to get my answers. He’ll either help me or he won’t.
I’ll give it to him. The man has a stoic poker face. I couldn’t tell you what he was thinking as his dark blue gaze attempts to see through me. ‘Does she know?’ he finally asks, settling some of the nerves that admission brought me.
‘It’s what I’ve been trying to show her, and I believe she knows it. I’m positive it’s part of the problem.’
He nods, seemingly in agreement, before asking, ‘Why haven’t you just told her? If she means that much—’
I cut him off, not to be rude but to prove I know what I’m getting myself into. ‘How many times have words proven effective for you when it comes to Vivian Fiori?’ Speaking to Croft, for all intents and purposes, is like talking to her father. I have to show that I am fully invested, that I’ve put in the time, calculated the risks, and decided she’s still worth it.
His smirk confirms my comment hit its mark. ‘Which Vi are you getting, passive-aggressive, emotionless, runner, or…’ he pauses, meeting my gaze before adding, ‘Let me guess: you’re getting the trifecta. You’re here because you’re getting iced out.’ He shakes his head in amusement, his smile too big as he finds delight in my debacle. I clench my fist and grind my teeth to keep my sharp tongue in check. After all, I’m here for his help, if you could call it that. Vivian Fiori will be mine, but I’d rather it be sooner than later. I’ve waited long enough to find my person, and I’ve grown tired of having an empty house.
‘Stop asking me questions you already know the answers to, Croft. Are you going to help me or not?’
Tongue in cheek, he runs his finger over the rim of his glass, considering my words before saying, ‘What could you possibly need from me that you haven’t already learned in your research? I’m sure you’ve already used all the resources at your disposal through Serra Tech to dig into her past.’
He’s not wrong. I knew all about Vivian’s family, her parents’ split, the fallout, and the years of therapy she started when she turned eighteen, long before she ever shared those stories with me. And, while I’m happy that she finally felt comfortable enough with me to share, it doesn’t change the fact she didn’t share it all. Vivian gave me things I have no doubt she was aware I already knew.
‘I want what paper can’t tell me. Why did Vivian come to San Jose nine months ago?’
We have been dating for roughly six months, but Vivian came here two months before that and lived at Mason’s downtown penthouse while he and Charlie occupied his Silver Creek home. I know she would occasionally visit over the years since Mason left St. Louis to put roots down in the heart of Silicon Valley for the growth of his tech company, but what changed? Why did she stay this time?
‘That’s a whole lot of not your business.’ He sets his glass down and adds, ‘Look, Ellis, I know you’re a fixer. You gravitate toward people who seem incomplete, lost, or maybe even broken, and hey, I get it. Your shit upbringing more than groomed you for that role, but Vivian is not broken. She is simply hardened differently.’
I’ve reached my limit on kindness. Mason knows my intentions with Vivian. I more than made them clear. What he’s doing now feels like a powerplay, but two can play at that game. Standing, I set my untouched glass of whiskey down on his desk and casually adjust my suit cuffs before saying, ‘Thanks for your time, Mason. Might want to pull your security cameras up. I’ll be having lunch with your wife at noon.’
He’s out of his chair faster than I can blink, fists on his desk, nostrils flaring. Like him, I know exactly what buttons to push. I have zero lunch plans with Charlie, nor do I plan on using her to get information on Vivian. I don’t care to pull her into this situation and use her in that way. To say she’s been through her fair share of drama would be an understatement. Charlie deserves every second of peace each day grants her, but Mason doesn’t know my intentions.
When I finally meet his gaze, I quirk a brow, truly unimpressed by his display of anger. Probably because it was expected. I pushed a button and got a reaction. Now I’m just waiting to see if I won the game.
‘Sit down, Lykos,’ he grits out.
Checkmate.
