Detonate

DETONATE BENEATH THE MASK SERIES BOOK 2 LUNA MASON Copyright © 2023 by Luna Mason. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any for or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the us of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Cover Design: Coffin Print Designs. Editing: Zainab at Heart Full of Reads. Formatting: Books and Moods. AUTHORS NOTE Detonate is a dark, standalone mafia romance. It does contain content and situations that could be triggering for some readers. This book is explicit and has explicit sexual content. It is intended to be for readers 18+. For a full list of triggers please visit the authors website: luna-mason-author-tr6ads.mailerpage.io Or visit the authors Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlunamason This book is dedicated to all my readers who deserve to be treated like a princess, but don't want the prince to sweep them off their feet. Who want the villain to tell them to grab the headboard and take it all like a good girl. Villains fuck better. Grayson is ready for you now… CONTENTS Prologue 1. Maddie 2. Grayson 3. Maddie 4. Grayson 5. Maddie 6. Grayson 7. Grayson 8. Maddie 9. Grayson 10. Maddie 11. Grayson 12. Maddie 13. Grayson 14. Maddie 15. Grayson 16. Maddie 17. Grayson 18. Maddie 19. Grayson 20. Maddie 21. Grayson 22. Maddie 23. Grayson 24. Maddie 25. Maddie 26. Maddie 27. Maddie 28. Grayson 29. Maddie 30. Grayson 31. Maddie 32. Maddie 33. Grayson 34. Maddie 35. Grayson 36. Maddie 37. Grayson 38. Maddie 39. Grayson 40. Maddie 41. Grayson 42. Maddie 43. Maddie 44. Grayson 45. Grayson 46. Grayson 47. Maddie 48. Grayson 49. Maddie 50. Grayson 51. Maddie 52. Grayson 53. Maddie Epilogue Devoted Sneak peek About the Author Acknowledgments PROLOGUE GRAYSON August 2015 Ten years, I’ve breathed, survived, and lived the war. It’s all I know. Hunt, shoot, kill. I walk toward the derelict building. Intel confirms the two terrorist fuckers we’re hunting are in here. I tighten my fingers around my M4 Carbine as I trudge in the scorching heat of Afghanistan. Casper, my lifelong best friend, follows on my left. We joined the Marines and climbed the ranks together. Hell, if it wasn’t for us constantly getting in fights when we were teenagers, our parents would never have shipped us off to the military. I have him to thank for that. Where else would I embrace my overwhelming need to outlet my anger? Legally, anyway. The wooden door hangs off its hinges. Two of our guys, Chase and Paul, are coming in fast from the opposite side of the building. These terrorists are responsible for the Kabul airport bombings, which killed hundreds of innocent people. They have been off the grid for the past three years since the attack. Kicking open the door, I aim my gun forward as I take in my surroundings. To my left is a set of rubble stairs, and to my right, is what remains of this shithole. Pieces of foam flatten under my feet from the shredded remains of a sofa in the room. There’s paper scattered everywhere, busted books, and debris of destroyed household appliances. How the fuck has anyone been living here for so long? “We have heat markers live upstairs,” intel confirms in my earpiece. “Copy,” I respond, pointing up at the stairs to Casper. I edge up the stairs and lean around the corner to scope out the area. When I get to the top of the stairs, the overwhelming stench of a bathroom nearly makes me gag. There’s only one closed door. That must be where they are. With a signal to my friend, I smash it open. In the right corner of the room, a frail-looking woman cradles a small child to her chest. Their screams ring in my ears. Something isn’t right. What is this—a decoy? Shit. I pace around the room, checking for any hidden spots, but nothing. Shit. “Out! Now!” I bellow to Casper, who stands on guard by the doorframe. Where the fuck are Chase and Paul? Casper sprints down the stairs, and I follow behind. As soon as the realization hits me, I shout, “Casper, Stop. Don’t go out th—” The gunfire drowns out my words. I duck under the hole in the wall. More gunshots echo, and one whizzes past my head and strikes the crumbling stone behind me. Movement in white catches my eye across the room. I crouch and make my way over to the far end of the room, past the ruined sofa, and wait. One of them is bound to come out soon. The M4 has a visual of a man in a white robe carrying a firearm. I pull the trigger, and the fucker collapses on the ground. Chase and Paul peer round the corner. They motion for me to go back as more gunshots ring out. Casper…I need to find Casper. I crawl toward the entrance, keeping the gun ready to fire. The sunlight blinds me when I step outside. It’s a desert. I haven’t had fun like this in a while, and I love a good hunt. My world crashes around me when I spot my friend lying in the sand with a pool of blood spilling out from his stomach. His hands compress over the wound, and he struggles to lift his head up. I run to him and drop to my knees. “Fuck, Casper.” I grab the trauma kit from my vest. Paul and Chase surround me. Paul stays on guard while we help Casper. “We have three confirmed kills. No movement spotted,” Paul reports. I rip open Casper’s jacket in search of the source of the blood. My hands tremble as my best friend