Summary : AH. Edward. Anthony. Masen. Cullen. Whatever you called him didn't matter. Because the last thing you see before you die.....is his face.

Stephanie Meyer owns all things Edward, Bella and every sordid characteristic.

What I DO own is a battered mobile and a second hand edition of a book.

Please don't sue me, I beg of you.

"Fifty thousand."

The man before him was sweating like a pig, his armpit stains reeking of pheromone. For a second, Edward let a small smile play on his lips. Pheromones was traditationally a hormone discreted by a male when he was sexually aroused.

The man before him looked anything but.

"I think you misunderstand me," Edward lent forward on his elbows, "When I say my services don't come cheap."

The air hung tense with his warning, but the man not wanting to prolong the meeting longer than necessary, nodded once. "Fine, sixty thousand," he said shortly. And then continued staring at the young man with a denim coat and bright green eyes, before him. He shivered.

For a second, the pair stared at each other in a fixed suspension of time before Edward shifted in his chair and pulled out a firearm from within his waistband. Almost lovingingly, he flicked open the firing chamber and watched the overhead light bounce of the fully loaded cartridges.

"I would reconsider the offer, if I were you."

At last, Edward looked up from the weapon and their eyes connected. There was no love lost in his eyes, but yet his smile spoke of a dedicated man. His client gulped and trembled when Edward closed the firing chamber with a palm in an upward movement. His eyes remaining transfixed on the gun as it began bouncing up and down on his folded knee.

"Hundred thousand, final of-ffer."

Gared Jenkin's voice broke at the final word and therefore looked up, expecting to see Edward's face twisted into amusement. Instead two cool eyes watched him reach under the desk to pull out a suitcase and push it towards him. "It's all there," he said hastily. "You can check."

This time, Edward looked pissed. "You mean, you had a hundred all along and was trying to see if you could rip me off?" The safety clutch clicked off with a resounding note of anger. "I don't appreciate the gesture, Mr Jenkins." Gared looked ready to poop into a box, but instead released his bladder into his pants as he found himself staring deep into the depths of a barrel.

"Please don't kill me," he begged, looking petrified. "My boss just wanted to see if you'd lower-"

The gun was removed from his face in an instant. If Edward had noticed that the smell of urine was mingling with the pheromones in the air, he didn't mention it. Instead he nodded at the paper thin file before Gared and tucked the firearm back into his pants.

"My philosophy never did include "Don't shoot the messenger," he laughed, but when seeing the fear heighten a notch in his oppenent-- stopped. "Or did it?"

The room had resorted back to it's awkward silence held earlier. Both parties stared unblinkingly at each other, and Gared began to fidget when he noticed that Edward's arms was locked so tightly by the side it looked un-natural. The way he held his head so.....still was another enigma altogether. Whoever had trained this young killer before him was good, and not in a bad way.

"Your target is in here and don't-" Gared hissed as Edward lent forwards to pick up the file. "Open it here. This place is swarming with CCTV." He threw a pointed glance at the camera situated at the far corner of the room and cursed his boss for ordering him to say that line when they went over the brief earlier. It was strange what concoctions you can agree too, before facing the actual person itself....

Edward cracked his knucles ominously.

"I'd let that slide," he said smoothly, "Because it is clear your boss is speaking through you. However," he added sharply as Gared began to look relieved. "I would urge you to tell your boss that I do not react well to people patronising me. Think you can manage that?"

Boy, was Edward clever. In making a warning about not being patronised in the future, he'd done a bit of patronising himself. But the man before him, nodding so dumbly, would never twig onto the fact that his intelligence had just been insulted. This was perhaps the very reason why the boss chose him in the first place.

At the door, with the file now zipped in his jumper and the suitcase in one hand, Edward pressed open the door to enter the cool open air. Gared, finally relieved that this young man with jaded eyes and a threatening aura had finally exited, muttered, "Freak," under his breath.

He didn't even have time to look up before a bang richocheted into the air, and he cracked into his seat before finally slumping onto the desk. A neat little bullet hole deforming his otherwise pretty nape.

But then, Gared always had been a stickler for a good haircut.

Next chapter is in first person and BPOV. This story is going to alternate between 3rd person Edward and 1st person Bella. Never tried anything like it, so fingers crossed, eh?

And this is rated M for a reason! (Smut galore.....though that'd probably be the later chapz)

Reviews will promote a quick (and bigger) update....