Page 183 of Mason

Mia raises one brow. “You’ve been holed up in this cave for weeks. I’ve given you time. Now I’m giving youoptions.”

“I’m not going to him.”

“You’re not,” she agrees. “You’re comingto me.To Maxine. To a whole support network if you need it, and peace and quiet when required. I just want to reassure him that you’re close and you’re safe.”

I think I give in to her too easily.

But the truth is—I’m exhausted. Not just physically, not just emotionally, but in that deep, marrow-soaked way that makes everything feel heavier than it should. I’ve been carrying too much for too long. And maybe I just want someone else to take the weight for a little while, even if I pretend I’m not letting them.

Clay’s gone underground. Vanished like smoke after everything that happened. I told him not to go after them.Begged him, really. Told him revenge wouldn’t make it better. But guilt carves people up in strange ways, and I think he needs this mission—needs to punish someone for what I went through, even if it won’t change a damn thing.

He’s chasing shadows.

And me? I’m stuck here, in this borrowed Airbnb, in a city that feels like it’s holding its breath.

The lease is paid through the end of the week. I tell myself that as I grab the suitcase and prepare to leave with her. That if things go badly at Mia’s, I can be back here by tomorrow night. I can sleep in this too-soft bed again, wrap myself in Mason’s hoodie, and pretend like none of this ever happened.

But maybe… if thingsdon’tgo badly—if there’s laughter and warmth and a sliver of peace—I’ll let this place go. Pack it up for good and start looking for something permanent. Something mine.

Somethingnew.

I take one last look at the little studio—the bed I barely slept in, the window I stared out of night after night, waiting for clarity that never came.

I follow Mia—step by step, heart pounding—into a life I’m not sure I belong in.

But I tell myself that maybe healing doesn’t wait for readiness.

Maybe it just demands courage.

47

SHELBY

Mia is like a sister who already knew what I needed before I could say it out loud.

And maybe she was right.

So now I’m packed into the backseat of Mia’s sleek little coupe, a duffel at my feet, watching the city fade behind us as we wind through the gates of the Gatti estate.

She says we’re having a girls' night later at Allegra’s house.

A sleepover.

Just the women. Just the ones who know what it’s like to survive fire and walk away with the burns still healing.

I didn’t realize how badly I needed this until I said yes.

The safety. The quiet. The promise of laughter I might not have to fake.

It feels… like the start of something new.

Not peace—but maybe something close enough to touch.

The house is already alive when we arrive.

Not loud in the traditional sense—there’s no music blaring, no chaotic shouting—but alive in the way a place gets when it’s filled with history, with people who know every bruise on each other’s hearts and still choose to show up. The energy vibratesunder my skin, something warm and electric. Like stepping into a current I don’t yet understand.

Scar’s house stands at the edge of the Gatti compound, nestled into one corner of the estate like it’s been there forever—elegant, bold, and quietly impenetrable. Just like the man it belongs to.

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