Chapter 121 Mason King

• The dining room had been a war zone of flavors—roasted duck drizzled with plum glaze, garlic butter potatoes so soft they melted in your mouth, and desserts that looked too perfect to eat. Now, hours later, the King family had retreated to the living room, everyone full, tired, but unwilling to call it a night just yet.
• Mason leaned back into the oversized couch, trying to make himself invisible. He was getting good at it—blending into the luxury he still wasn’t used to. A crackling fire lit the room, its glow softening the sharp angles of the family he was playing house with. Charlotte was perched cross-legged on the floor, a glass of wine dangling from her fingers as she scrolled through her phone. Eve sat stiff-backed beside Helena, shoulders squared as though a rogue thought might blow her cover.
• Helena commanded the space like she commanded everything else in her life, one leg crossed over the other, sipping her wine with the patience that came from years of making Chicago's elite dance to her tune. Her knowing eyes flicked to Mason every so often—a subtle reminder that she hadn't forgotten. She knew.