Chapter 7 - The Interrogation of Judith
The private VIP lounge at the back of the country club was designed for bridal parties to decompress, but tonight it functioned as a makeshift federal debriefing room.
Federal agents milled about with clipboards, while Aunt Judith sat on a floral sofa, sobbing dramatically into a monogrammed handkerchief, surrounded by two shaken bridesmaids who looked like they were ready to faint.
When the heavy oak door opened and Maya walked in, arm-in-arm with Mason Reed, Judith’s tears stopped instantly.
Her red, blotchy eyes locked onto Mason with the fury of a cornered tigress.
“You!” Judith shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at Mason. “You brought this—this federal circus to my daughter’s reception! I knew the moment I saw you that you were bad news! Who are you?! What did you do to Richard?!”
Maya stepped forward, instinctively positioning herself slightly in front of Mason—a laughable protective gesture given that Mason looked like he could bench-press a minivan, but she didn't care. “Aunt Judith, stop it. Uncle Richard was laundering cartel money through commercial real estate. Mason had nothing to do with it.”
“Oh, and you would know, wouldn't you?!” Judith spat back, standing up and towering over Maya. “You show up out of nowhere with this mysterious, arrogant billionaire—yes, I noticed the watch, Maya, I’m not blind—and suddenly the FBI is kicking down our dessert cart! You ruined Chloe’s wedding!”
“Chloe is currently upstairs eating chocolate cake in her bridal suite with her new husband, completely oblivious to the federal raid,” a calm, authoritative voice intervened from the doorway.
Agent Vance—the federal lead investigator Maya had seen on the stage—stepped into the lounge. He didn't look at Judith; his eyes went straight to Mason. He gave a sharp, imperceptible nod of professional respect.
“Mr. Reed. The perimeter is secure. The suspect is in custody, and the federal warrants have been executed without civilian casualties.”
Judith’s jaw dropped. She looked from the federal agent to Mason, her brain visibly short-circuiting as the terrifying implications began to align. “Mr... Mr. Reed? Agent Vance, why are you calling him Mr. Reed like he’s your superior? He’s just... he’s Maya’s boyfriend!”
Mason didn't flinch. He didn't blink. He simply looked at Judith with a polite, aristocratic detachment.
“Mrs. Bennett,” Mason said smoothly, “your niece is correct in her assessment that I am currently occupying the role of her boyfriend. However, my primary professional engagement is the oversight of private capital and critical logistics infrastructure.”
Agent Vance cleared his throat. “Ma'am, Mr. Reed’s private security firm assisted the bureau in tracking the illicit wire transfers for six months. If it weren't for his logistics network, your brother-in-law would have liquidated your family’s entire estate and fled to Zurich by Tuesday.”
The room went dead silent.
Judith stared at Mason as if he had just transformed into a dragon. The color drained from her face, leaving her looking remarkably like a deflated mauve balloon. She lowered her hand very slowly, sinking back down onto the floral sofa without uttering another single syllable.
Maya turned her head, looking up at Mason with an expression of utter, disbelieving awe. “You tracked him for six months? That’s why you were at my café? You were using my neighborhood as a staging ground?”
“My office is three blocks from your café,” Mason corrected gently. “Stopping for espresso was a logistical preference. Meeting you was... an unexpected variable.”
May you like
“A variable,” Maya repeated, crossing her arms with a wry smile. “Is that what I am to a billionaire intelligence-logistics mogul? A variable?”
“You are the only variable on my ledger that I have no intention of closing out,” Mason replied quietly, his slate-gray eyes softening with an intimacy that made the surrounding federal agents suddenly find the ceiling fixtures fascinating.
