Mason Book 2
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Zainab Sambo
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526K
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35
Prologue
Book 2: Fearless King
Lauren’s world had been turned inside out. Secrets about her family had been revealed, and it felt like her life was over. But then there was Mason Campbell, the billionaire who held her heart. He was her rock, her anchor. Things were looking up, except for the strange men who seemed to be tailing her. Unbeknownst to her, Mason was battling a dark force to keep her safe.
“Here he comes.”
The whisper echoed through the building, quickening heartbeats and footsteps on the marble floor.
The elevator doors slid open, and people scattered, hurrying to their desks and offices.
A polished shoe stepped out of the elevator, followed by a man in a navy-blue suit. He moved with an air of grace and power. It was Mason Campbell.
His face was expressionless, lips set in a firm line, dark hair slicked back. His silver eyes, mysterious and intense, shone against his chiseled features.
Mason Campbell.
Multi-billionaire.
Powerful. Intelligent. Adored.
Taken.
He’d been making headlines for a year. His connections with influential people made him untouchable. The public trusted him. The media loved him.
He was the people’s champion.
Three years ago, he’d expanded his business into new fields. Recently, he’d started funding tech projects, many of which had become huge successes.
This was his first interview in two years.
Cynthia Wayne, the reporter, sat on the edge of her seat in the reception area, watching the flurry of activity in the office. Men in sharp suits and women in designer clothes moved with a synchronicity that was almost mesmerizing.
The first time she saw Mason Campbell step out of the elevator, trailed by a group of businessmen, she caught her breath. He was everything people said he was.
At thirty-six, his confidence and the attention he commanded were remarkable.
He walked past her, his presence as powerful as a storm, and disappeared into his office. She was left wondering if she could interview him without falling apart.
A man who appeared to be Campbell’s assistant hurried into the office, leaving the door slightly open. Cynthia leaned forward, trying to catch snippets of the conversation inside.
“Sir, your ten o’clock is waiting. You said she has five minutes.”
Cynthia strained to hear the response, but it was too muffled.
“We’ll get a copy of the interview and review it before it’s published. Yes, Mr. Campbell,” the assistant said.
He left the office and motioned for Cynthia to follow him.
“Remember, the interview is only for five minutes. Mr. Campbell has other important matters to attend to.”
Cynthia managed a shaky “Thank you,” as she clutched her bag and walked into the office, closing the door behind her.
The office was a mix of glass and stone, with beautiful paintings perfectly arranged on the walls.
“Ms. Wayne.”
His smooth voice drew her attention to the man sitting behind a massive leather chair.
He dominated the room.
His expensive suit and watch were nothing compared to the man himself. His intense gray eyes and striking features were captivating.
There was no doubt that this man could bend anyone to his will.
Mr. Campbell stood and extended his hand. She placed her hand in his firm grip.
Once he sat back down, exuding the confidence of a man in power, she took a seat across from his large, dark wood desk.
The energy in the room was palpable.
“Mr. Campbell, thank you for giving The Midnight Hour the opportunity to interview you. I know many reporters would love to be in my shoes right now.”
“Hmm.” He glanced at his watch, making her swallow hard. “Please proceed, Ms. Wayne.”
Cynthia fumbled with her recorder, pressing the start button, trying to maintain her professionalism.
“Campbell Industry has always been a tech company, but in recent years, you’ve branched out into medical, automotive, and marketing.
“I heard you’re planning to open resorts in England, the United Arab Emirates, and Australia. How does it feel to be where you are in your business today?”
He laced his fingers together.
“I’ve always been self-reliant. I’ve achieved things by my age that no one else has. I work hard, very hard. I make decisions based on logic and facts.
“I don’t wait for things to happen; I make them happen. When I started Campbell Industry and it took off, I felt like I’d achieved what I’d always wanted to.
“But now, the success of my companies has become something extraordinary.”
“How do you manage all of that?” she asked, her voice shaky. “You have branches in twenty-eight countries, and you employ over two hundred thousand people, with more to come.”
“I hire the most skilled and competent people to handle the work that I don’t need to handle.”
His voice grew colder, quieter with each response. “I step in when it’s absolutely necessary, but otherwise, I focus on Campbell Industry.”
“People say you must be the luckiest man in the world. What do you think about that?”
He raised an eyebrow. “It’s not just about luck, Ms. Wayne.” He paused, fixing her with a gray stare.
“It’s about the people you work with. It’s about hiring the right people and trusting them with your company. Without the right team, there will be cracks.”
She nodded in understanding.
“You recently made the cover of Forbes magazine, listed as the eighth richest man in the world, with no inheritance from your family.
“What advice would you give to others who aspire to be in your position one day?”
“Work hard. Think hard. People always say that making mistakes helps you grow, that it’s a lesson you can learn from. I don’t believe that. I don’t believe in straying from the path.
“When I mess up, I’ll keep trying the same thing until it works. I’m a stubborn guy, Ms. Wayne, and stubborn guys always find a way to win.”
She smiled at him, a smile he didn’t return. It was just like everyone said: Mason Campbell only believed in himself.
His unwavering faith in his own abilities had earned him his current position.
There was a question she’d been itching to ask, a question on everyone’s mind. Despite his constant presence in the public eye, little was known about him and the choices he made.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but after your father passed away last year, you built an orphanage in his name and your brother—”
His face hardened. “Ms. Wayne, I’m going to be blunt with you.” His words dropped like bombs.
“I can’t stand reporters because you all think you have the right to know everything.
“Ask me personal questions and you’ll get yourself and your company blacklisted. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Mr. Campbell. I didn’t realize…” Her voice choked as her heart tried to escape her chest. “Please, don’t—”
He waved his hand dismissively, his face a mask. “A simple apology can fix anything.” He glanced at his Rolex. “I think our time is up, Ms. Wayne.”
She couldn’t believe the five minutes were already over, but who was she to argue?
Cynthia stood up and put her recorder in her bag. She extended her hand to shake his. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Campbell.”
He looked at her hand but didn’t take it.
“I shook your hand when you came in because I thought I could trust you, Ms. Wayne.
“I won’t shake it again because you didn’t stick to the questions you gave my assistant. Have a good day.”
He dismissed her and turned back to his computer, leaving her shaking in her shoes.
The door closed.
Three seconds later, the door opened again. Mason looked up from his computer and met the gaze of the man standing in front of him, who glanced back at the door.
“I thought this one would leave in tears.”
“I’ve mellowed out.” Mason returned his attention to his computer, typing out an important email.
Gale took the seat the reporter had just vacated, crossing one leg over the other. “Is that what you tell yourself?” He snorted.
“Just yesterday you almost made poor Wendy cry because she forgot to button her shirt.”
“That was unacceptable and needed to be addressed. How she took it isn’t my problem.”
Gale made a noise. “How does Lauren put up with you?” he asked, half amused and half incredulous.
Mason looked at his friend, a smirk playing on his lips. “Easy. A glass of scotch does the trick,” he told Gale with a hint of sass.
Gale stifled a laugh at the comeback. “So, you turned her into a drinker?”
“Not exactly.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“When it’s your business, maybe,” Mason replied, resting his hands on his desk.
He gave his friend a dark look, and the amusement that had been on his face seconds ago vanished as he continued. “Did you get it?”
“Of course.” Gale pulled an envelope from his blazer and slid it across the desk.
Mason pinned the envelope with a pen.
“Same place as the others. I had some guys search the area, but they didn’t find anyone.”
“They wouldn’t,” Mason said curtly. He picked up the black envelope and turned his chair to face the portrait behind him.
Standing up, he took down the painting, revealing a hidden safe. He punched in the five-digit code.
Inside the safe were dozens of envelopes, identical to the one he was holding. He tossed it in.
He replaced the portrait and returned to his seat.
“Do you think it’s wise to keep this from Lauren?”
Mason’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s for her own good.”
“Those are hers.”
His eyes were bright and sharp. “What’s hers is mine, and what’s mine is hers. That’s how marriage works, Gale. You’d know if you’d settle down and stop acting like a teenager.”
Gale frowned. “You’re avoiding the subject. That’s not like you, Mason,” he said, suddenly amused.
“I’m frustrated and I don’t want to talk about it.”
A tense silence filled the room.
The office was charged with a threatening energy, not directed at each other but at the secret they were keeping.
Gale looked around the office, then back at his friend. “I don’t like keeping this from her,” he admitted, running his fingers through his hair.
“If she finds out, I’ll be in as much trouble as you. I think you should tell her.”
Mason leaned forward and slammed his fist on his desk.
“This is the last thing I would ever tell Lauren, and you won’t say a word about it.
“But if you keep pushing, Gale, I’ll have to limit your time with my wife,” he warned, a dark scowl on his face. “In fact, I’ll make sure you two never cross paths.”
“Okay, okay. I get it. But when this blows up in your face, don’t say I didn’t warn you. If there’s one thing Lauren hates, it’s you keeping secrets from her.”
“Thanks for pointing out what my wife can’t stand,” Mason shot back, his gaze turning frosty.
But Mason wasn’t scared.
He hardly ever was. This was one of those moments where he felt the odds were stacked in his favor. He’d keep this secret from Lauren, just like he’d been doing for the past few months.
All to make sure her little world of joy stayed intact. He didn’t want to pull her back into the dark place she’d been stuck in three years ago.
Never again.
She was his to guard.
If he had to bulldoze anyone who threatened her happiness, he’d do it. Without a moment’s hesitation. Without a second thought. Without any regrets.
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