Chapter 18 Adeline
Adeline POV
His eyes flash with resentment. "Careful, Addie. You’re forgetting who holds your leash." He takes a sip of his drink. "Here is how this is going to go. You’re going to stop ignoring me. You’re going to be a good little intern, and you’re going to start showing me some gratitude for keeping your secret."
"My secret?" What was this man on?
"Your father," he whispers, and my world stops as the noise of the restaurant fades away.
"What?" I choke out.
"Did you think I wouldn't check?" Mason grins, looking delighted by my terror. "When you showed up here, I got curious. I did some digging, and guess what I found out?"
"What did you find out?" I ask, still keeping my cool in case he was only bluffing.
"Ilya Kozlov." Right there and then, I know that my world as I know it is over. "Currently serving fifteen years for aggravated assault and gang activity. Imagine what the partners at Royal & Associates would think if they knew they hired the daughter of a violent criminal."
"You can't," I whisper. "You won't do that to me." Even as I say it, I know it's stupid because he's going to do as he says.
"Oh, I can and I will." He assures me as he leans back in satisfaction.
"Mason..."
"Unless, of course, you give me a reason not to."
"What do you want?"
"I want us back, Addie." His eyes roam over my face as if trying to commit every little feature to memory. "I want a second chance, no, I demand a second chance because I own you. We’re going to pick off where we left off, meaning you will have to break it off with Akilov, if you are with him, of course." He says with a wink.
"You’re insane."
"Yes, baby, you make me so insane, Adeline. You bring out this side of me." He reaches across the table and takes my hand. I’m too frozen to pull away. "Think about it. Your career. Your reputation. Your mommy’s big wedding to the rich guy—it all goes away if people find out who you really are. One word from me and you’re back to being trash from the wrong side of the tracks." He squeezes my hand. "So, what’s it going to be, my sweet girl? Are you going to be my good girl, or are you going to force me to burn your whole world down?"
I stare at this man that I spent three years of my life with. He seems unrecognizable to me now as he threatens to expose the one thing in my past I have been running from. Right now, he holds my future in his hand.
"You're lying," I tell him. "It’s your world against mine since you have no proof. I'm going to expose our past together, and you're going to be nothing more than a disgruntled, bitter ex who's angry because I moved on to someone better. Two can play the game, Mason." Every word I say makes me feel better and more in control, but the smile that remains on his face scares me a bit.
"What are you saying, Adeline? You think I'm bluffing?"
"Yes, Mason. I think you're bluffing."
"Am I?" Mason pulls his phone from his pocket. He taps the screen and slides it across the table toward me. It takes a while before I break our stare to look at his phone. It's an old grainy photo that was probably pulled from a newspaper archive.
It shows a courtroom. A man in a jumpsuit being led away in handcuffs. He’s looking back over his shoulder, his face twisted in a snarl of pure hatred. I remember that snarl because it was directed at me. The man in the picture is Ilya Kozlov, my father.
The headline is even more interesting. Local Gang Leader Sentenced to 15 Years By Daughter's Testimony.
I push the phone away, and it almost hits the floor, but he catches it.
"I didn't think so." Mason says, retrieving the phone with a smug smile. "It’s a nasty little secret, isn't it? That you somehow got to this position in one of the most powerful law firms, but you're nothing but the daughter of a thug. Imagine what the Bar Association would say when you apply for your license. Imagine what Richard Akilov would say."
"He has nothing to do with this," I choke out.
"He has everything to do with this. He’s a billionaire, Adeline. Men like him care about image above all else. Do you really think he’d let his son date the daughter of a convict? Do you think he’d let you marry into his family?"
Mason leans in to whisper. "You’re trash, Addie. You’ve always been trash, but at least I was generous and willing to overlook where you came from because of how strongly I feel about you. I’m also the only one who can save you now."
I stand up, and my legs feel like they might give out under me, but the instinct to run from the devil makes me willing to bear that risk.
"I have to go."
"Sit down, Adeline," Mason orders.
"No." I grab my bag and hold on to it like a lifeline. "I need... I need to think. I need to get away from you."
Mason studies me. He must have seen the terror in my eyes, and he smiles because he thinks he’s won.
"Fine. Out of the goodness of my heart and how much I care about you, I'm going to let you take the night. It's probably all too much for your pretty little head to consume all that information, so, Addie, you have twenty-four hours to give me an answer. Come by my place tomorrow night so we can start over, or I send this photo to Percy, Richard, and the entire board of partners."
"Twenty-four hours," I repeat dumbly.
"Don't be late."
I turn and run without minding how odd it looks that I'm running in my heels, but I don't care because I have to put as much distance as I can between myself and the devil in the form of Mason.
The city air is cold when I finally burst out of the restaurant, but I find myself sweating and breathless. The fact that he knows the full story now repeats itself over and over in my head until that's the only thought in my mind.
I hail a cab, my hands shaking so hard I can barely open the door.
"Where to?" the driver asks.
"The penthouse." I start to say it, but I stop because Mason specifically told me to break it off with him. If I go to Percy, Mason will release the photo, so it's up to me to figure out a solution before Mason’s deadline is up. Besides, I can't go to Percy now, knowing that I specifically broke his rule of not being alone with Mason. With two deadlines looming over me, I don't know what to do.
"Miss?" the driver prompts. "Where to?"
"Take me home."
"Where?"
"West 4th Street."