Thanks to Ninkita, 2browneyes and Sunshine for everything they do. All mistakes are mine!

Gore rating—0

The vibration of my cell on the table top ceases all conversation from the people gathered in my office. "Talk to me," I bark into the line.

"Boss, Special Agent Swan is here and he's asking for entrance to your penthouse," Riley replies, his tone unsure.

"Send him up," I snap and end the call, turning my attention to the curious eyes of my men. "Let's see if he has any new information before we admit how much we know." I motion to the laptop as I circle to stand behind Emmett. "Play the fucking video again."

The scene hums to life. Emmett has taken the parts specific to this incident and merged all the camera feeds into one single video that basically shows every move the thug made. At the door, he shows ID to a couple of guards—who're getting their asses fired—but they fail to check for weapons. When the metal detector shrills an alarm, he lifts to show his large belt buckle—one I recognize—and they wave him on through like the fucking idiots they are.

The camera changes as the street scum takes a seat at the bar and orders a shot. His eyes are shifting around, and I can spot he's up to no good even in the black and white image. Lucky for us, the guys who monitor the cameras were suspicious also, because one of them left the booth and requested our security check on the fuckwit. The footage goes split screen here so we can watch simultaneously as everything unfolds within a blink of an eye.

In the same frame with the street scum is the hallway leading from the liquor storage area. Our newly hired manager appears and I watch for it—that one single knowing glance she gives the gunman as he slips a revolver from an ankle holster and stands. She braces, making no move to try and get away, but their plan goes haywire when my hired guy sweeps into the room and fires a shot, taking down the scum who fires an errant shot before hitting the floor.

The bitch manager goes into hysterics—either a good act or she knew him personally—as security piles into the room while patrons and dancers get as far from the scene as possible. The rest of the footage shows what it's supposed to; my hired guys taking control until the cops get there.

My eyes snap to Caius. "She was a plant and this was a carefully constructed plan. I want someone on this! Send a few people down to the staffing agency and give them carte blanche to do whatever the hell it takes. I want to know how the fuck she got into this position."

"Got it, Boss," he says, turning and whipping out his phone.

"Demetri," I bark, cutting my hard gaze to him. "I need you to reach out to the Wolfpack. That fucking punk was one of theirs. Let them know they're a member down, and if they don't tell you what you want to know I'll wipe them completely off the map and gladly auction off their territory to the highest bidder." I jab my pointer finger in his chest and give him a hard gaze as I pass. "Don't accept any answer that isn't the truth."

He nods, but I've already moved on, turning back to lean over Emmett's shoulder. "I want that clip of the moment the manager enters the room separated into its own little video. Then I want a second clip with a closeup of her face. Charlie will be h—" I'm cut off by the chime of the elevator.

I leave Emmett to his fucking task and start up the hallway, already hearing the murmur of voices. Bella and her father are standing just inside the foyer area, speaking to each other with serious expressions.

I pause and clear my throat. "Rosalie, could you get us a drink." As she scatters toward the kitchen, I join my life and her father, placing a fucking possessive arm around her waist and drawing her into my side. "This conversation looks too serious for my liking."

Charlie's eyes narrow. "She's my daughter, and I worry about her."

"I understand." I nod once. "But she is mine to protect. I can't have a rogue agent doing rogue things in the name of protecting the most important thing in my world. We work together or not at fucking all. Got me?"

Bella places her hand on my chest, drawing my sharp gaze to hers and it softens slightly. "I've made it clear, Edward. There is no me without you."

"As much as I hate it," Charlie mumbles, smoothing his fingers across his mustache, "I have no choice but to accept it."

"Then we're on the same page," I reply, motioning toward the sofa. "Have a seat and fill me in on the shooting."

Agent Swan snorts but does as I ask. "Is it possible for me to tell you something you don't already know?"

"Try me." I shrug, doubting it very fucking seriously.

He opens his mouth to fill me in, but Rosalie appears that second with a tray of drinks. I smirk when I see my usual glass of Glenfiddich along with two bottled waters. "Thank you, Rosalie," I say, lifting the waters and passing them to Bella and Charlie before taking my glass. "Go tell Emmett to store the file on a flash drive and join us."

After a sip from the water bottle, Charlie begins sharing everything I already fucking know. The name of the shooter, his affiliation, no apparent motive. He also informs me that the security guard has been released with no charges and the manager is terrified and begging for protection from the FBI.

"How hard have you pressed her?" I ask, taking another sip from my glass.

His eyes find mine and the look in my fucking eyes tells him all he needs to fucking know. "You think she's a part of this."

"She fucking knew he was coming for her."

"Are you sure, Edward?" Bella asks, searching my face.

"Positive."

"Fuck." Charlie sighs. "You can't kill her, Edward."

"I can do what the fuck I want." I lean forward and slam my glass onto the coffee table. "But in this instance, I suspect outside forces put this in play, which is why I'm leaving it up to you to find out her part."

"She's already been questioned and deemed a believable witness." Agent Swan shakes his head. "Unless I find something new, I'm no—"

"Here ya go," Emmett says, striding into the room with the flash drive. Instead of handing it to Charlie, my brother sticks it into the side of the TV and grabs the remote. "You already have the security footage, but this is Grizzly Armor footage. Clearer, sharper, better quality video all around."

There are two files on the screen: All Footage and Close Up. Emmett selects the latter and tosses the remote back on the coffee table, standing silently as we collectively watch the five seconds play on a loop. Each time, the manager bitch's face is clear and decidedly incriminating as she eyes the shooter.

"Give it here," Agent Swan says, holding out his hand. "I can press her with this, and it makes you look more cooperative for turning it over. I'm going to need to get a statement from you also, Emmett, since you're the owner." He cuts his eyes to mine. "If I can get a confession, she's off limits."

My lips purse as I consider his offer—because that's all it is, I'm the fucking Boss around here. "I'll allow her to live if you bring me a copy of the interrogation tape."

Agent Swan's mustache twitches and he jabs a finger my way. "I don't like this, and it won't be the precedent for our future interactions, but I'll bring you a copy." His eyes flash to Bella before they come back to me. "Something bigger is going on here, and I want to know what it is."

My eyes, too, go to Bella, and because she means everything, I turn back to Agent Swan with a sharp nod. "Give me a few days to get all the facts and we'll schedule a meeting."

He stands. "I'll be in touch."

Bella gets up to walk him to the elevator and I keep my eyes on her gorgeous retreating form. Charlie's and my relationship was shattered before it ever got off the ground, but that's all changed now due to the same reason it was broken in the first place. We both love Bella. With her safety as a shared goal, the lines become blurred and the lengths Special Agent Charlie Swan will go to assist will become limitless.

"Boss," Demetri says as he steps into the living room. "I have information."

I motion him over as I grab my glass from the coffee table and take a swig of the smooth whiskey. "Anything good?"

"Yes." He straightens his suit jacket as he sits. "The girl was a plant; a cousin of one of the members who had managing experience. They were contacted by an unknown entity and paid a million dollars, upfront and in cash, to run the set up."

I take another swig of my whiskey as I digest this information. "So let me get this straight, this fuck was stupid enough to run a scam on my property for someone he doesn't know?"

Demetri shakes his head and blows out a heavy breath. "Look, I get it. It was a stupid move, but a million dollars is big time for a nothing crew like theirs. The way they saw it, all the risk was on them. The girl was willing to take a non-deadly bullet for a hundred grand, and the shooter thought he'd get away. Now they're a man down and a poor woman's life is probably ruined."

"Probably?" I lift a fucking brow. "I just sent Agent Swan with evidence to get a confession."

"Shit." Demetri turns his wise eyes in my direction. "You need to stop him, Edward. I know we're a cut-throat organization, but this woman had no idea what she was getting into when it comes to the Outfit. She probably has kids."

My eyes narrow, and I kill off my whiskey. "You want me to let her off clean?"

"I want you to take down the real offenders here," he counters, lifting a daring brow. "This has to be a Miami stunt, but what worries me is how did they know about the hiring agency? Where are they getting this info? That needs to be our focus, not punishing this nothing crew." At my hardened expression, he holds up a hand. "Think about it, Edward. If all goes to plan, we think it's Miami trying to get to Rosalie, but if anything goes awry, as it did, we turn our attention to our own streets and become distracted with punishment. Either way, our focus has been interrupted. We can't let them lead us around by a string."

My jaw is clenched so fucking tightly my teeth feel like they might shatter under the pressure. Lenience is not my forte, and it goes against every particle within me, but I chose Demetri as Consigliere for a reason. He's a wise old man who's been in this game for a long fucking time.

"What kind of message does that send to the other wannabes in Chicago?" I ask, slamming the empty glass on the coffee table. "If I let this pa—"

"I've already thought of that," he breaks in, earning a harsh glare. "Use this, Edward. Let's get the word on the streets so if they try it again, the next crew will come to us instead of making a move against us."

"The Outfit rules from fear, Demetri," I snarl, standing to pace off some of the angry energy before I use it against him. "Death and destruction awaits if you chose to go against us, and you want me to give someone a pass?"

"That's my counsel," he says, standing. "Just think before you act, son. I'm heading home and we'll meet again tomorrow. We'll be in Boston in two days. We can end this as long as you keep your cool."

Before I can reply, Caius enters from the hallway. "Boss, nothing new from the agency. They say they sent the most qualified candidate they had available. We pressed them hard."

I growl, tugging on the ends of my hair. "I know who's responsible. Tell our guys to back off."

"Tomorrow." Demetri tilts his head in approval and moves toward the elevator.

"So who're we going after?" Caius asks, plopping down on the sofa.

I shake my head and pace several more times before lifting my empty whiskey glass and slinging it into the wall, shattering it into a million tiny shards. "No one. For now, anyway. This shit is on Miami and our focus needs to remain there."

Caius stands, his eyes questioning. "Are you sure about that?"

"No," I snap, kicking the fucking coffee table. "But this is my decision … for now."

"Eh, you're the Boss," he says with a shrug. "Call me if ya change your mind and want some skulls cracked."

As Caius leaves, I turn to the three bodies in my peripheral vision. Emmett, Rosalie and Bella are all standing around, looking on with wide eyes. "What?"

"Everything okay?" Emmett asks, taking Rosalie's hand and moving toward me.

"Is it ever?" I scrub my fingers through my hair and sit in the closest chair with a sigh. "It will be. I want you to go find out how Miami knew I'd be calling a hiring agency for a new manager."

"You think this was them?" he asks, baby blues wide behind his glasses.

"Who else." I shrug, fucking over it all.

Rosalie clears her throat. "I've used that hiring agency many times in the past for Midnight Sun."

My eyes narrow as I consider this shit. "How much of Esme's deceit have you been able to dig through?" I ask Emmett, my mind working to form a likely scenario. "It's possible the name of the company was passed along by her, but that still doesn't tell us how they knew about the manager position."

"Not all of it," he replies, shifting his glasses. "I can run a search using the hiring agency's name, and if it's there it'll come up." He pauses, his extra-large brain working overtime. "Do you think it's possible they didn't care which position? Any employee shooting would send us a message."

"No." I shake my head. "Demetri's intel proved they knew it was the fucking manager position. Pore over Esme's last few communications. If she was the source of the info, it had to be right before her death. I need answers before I leave for Boston on Saturday morning."

"I'm on it," he replies, dragging Rosalie toward the elevator like a man on a mission, and he better fucking be.

Bella perches on the arm of my chair and smooths down my tug-crazy hair. "Anything I can do to help?"

I run my hand up her smooth thigh and grip her slender waist. "Why don't you get ready for bed. I need to make a couple of calls and I'll be in shortly."

She palms my cheek and her dark chocolate eyes pin me to my spot. "I love you, Edward." She replaces her hand with her lips and then softly skims them to my ear. "Don't make me wait too long."

I sit, slack-jawed, and watch her sway across the room, disappearing down the hall. Mother of fuck. A surge of adrenaline spikes through me, and I quickly dig my phone from my inside pocket and pull up Agent Swan's number.

"Edward," he answers.

"Cut the broad loose," I say, quick and to the point. "No charges. As a matter of fact, have her send her resume to Grizzly Armor."

Charlie snorts. "What, you looking to give her a job now?"

"I think I might," I say thoughtfully. "She could be a good replacement for Rosalie in the future. Now that she's aware of who she's fucking with, I don't see her being stupid again."

"If you think I'm going to just hand her over so you can take care of her, you've lost your damn mind," Charlie says incredulously.

"Good old Agent Swan." I bark a laugh. "I give you my word, she's in no danger."

"What in the hell is going on, Edward!" he hisses into the line. "I want answers!"

"We'll meet next week," I say, ending the call.

The next call I make is to Jenks. During it, I demand he compile all the Miami information he's collected since I asked him to investigate and get it to me … tomorrow.

Tonight, I have other plans.

I stand and stalk toward the master suite, loosening my tie as I go. My hands are fucking jittery and my heart is racing inside my goddamn chest. I know an invitation when I hear one, and I'm not about to turn down the opportunity to show Bella everything I feel for her.

We had beautiful once, and I was too fucked up to embrace it, but not this time. It won't be instant lust in an alley fucking against a nasty brick wall. It won't be possessive angry fucking for all of Chicago to witness. It won't be a man hiding in dreamland to deny what he feels.

It'll be pure fucking worship.

As I enter the bedroom, my feet come to a pause. Bella's clothes are littered across the floor, leading to the open bathroom door where the sound of running water and the sight of billowy steam beckons. I'm frozen where I stand, digging deep for the courage to follow her lead, and it only takes a handful of seconds.

I strip as I go, dropping my pants and briefs at the threshold and inhaling a huge gust of Bella-scented steam. The vapor turns to water droplets and settles on my tongue giving me the first taste of her wet skin. My swollen cock throbs, and my hands ache to roam the nude body on the other side of the glass.

Each step is measured as I approach the enclosure, restraining. I know how to fuck, to possess, to make a woman scream my name, but using my body to show her she's everything is new and foreign. It's an experiment of the heart, and I don't want to fuck it up. I can't fuck it up.

I don't say anything as I pull open the door to step inside, and she doesn't react to my presence. My eyes burn across her flesh, following the countless rivers that trail down her sinful body. Without a word, I lift the shampoo and squirt some in my hand, motioning for her to turn around. Her ass brushes against my cock and it jumps, seeking her body like a divining rod, but I tamp down the urge to slam her against the wall and take her right fucking here.

As gently as a lamb, I soap her hair, massaging deeply into her scalp and fucking biting my bottom lip at her hums of pleasure. I almost give into my baser instincts, but sanity prevails and I push her under the rainfall spray. Using her momentary distraction, I wet my hair with one of the side jets and wash my own hair. When she steps away from the spray, the full length of her body comes flush against mine, and I groan before getting myself under control and spinning her again.

This time it's conditioner I apply, working it in thoroughly and piling her hair atop her head in a squishy bun. As it sits, I grab her favorite body wash and use my hands to torture her silently. My eyes remain on her face as my hands roam her perfect skin. The bliss reflected there is almost enough to bring me to my knees. Her folds are slick with want and soap, allowing my fingers to glide effortlessly against her. Only enough to entice, never enough to satisfy.

Her thighs tense, warning me of her building ecstasy, and I pull away abruptly, steering her back under the spray. She rinses in dissatisfied bewilderment, and I use the small amount of time to soap my own body as quickly as possible. A hiss escapes as I fist my cock, drawing her eyes to the act, and they become predatory. Knowing playtime is over, I step under the spay with her, pushing our bodies together and holding her tightly against me as the rainfall washes everything away.

I hit the off button and the pouring water diminishes, leaving two bodies that need no instruction. I wring her sopping hair without a word, and her fingers dance around my sides to clasp at my lower back, holding me impossibly closer. My cock pulses and throbs between us, but the holy grail is in for a long wait tonight. There's so much more worshipping to be done.

When her hair is sufficiently less-sopping for what I have in mind, I sweep her off her feet and into my arms bridal style. She gasps at the sudden movement and grips tightly onto my neck but otherwise, she doesn't question me until I approach the bed.

"What are you doing?" She looks to the bed and back to me with slightly panicked eyes. "We're soaking wet. It'll ruin your comforter."

A husky chuckle escapes before I can stop it. "It's not a comforter, it's an eiderdown duvet, but fuck it. I can buy another. Right now, I intend to spread you across that eight thousand dollar luxury and lick every tasty drop of water from your delectable fucking skin."

"Fuck," she whispers, her breaths heavy.

I prop my knee on the bed and move toward the center, depositing her gently against the pillows. A drop of water rolls down her cheek, and I swipe my tongue across it and continue to her mouth where she opens eagerly and takes me inside. The dance is deep and erotic and hungry. Too much, not enough and just fucking right.

I pull away abruptly and hold up a finger. "One second."

Her skin is pinkened with heat and she squirms, rubbing her thighs together. I quickly turn off all the lights and lighten the window shades. The bright lights of Chicago provide a scenic backdrop and allow just enough light so I can see her beautiful expression as I pleasure her to the ends of the Earth.

By the time I return to the bed, my cock leading the way, she's already palming her breasts as her hips swivel to the movements. I move in from the foot, capturing one long leg and burning a trail with my tongue from her ankle to her thigh. With every second that passes, the droplets disappear as I inhale her very essence.

"Dimmi come ti paice," I murmur against her skin, begging her to tell me how she likes it, but she has no idea what I'm saying and she doesn't care. The Italian drives her fucking mad with want and she writhes beneath my tongue. Her stomach, breasts, neck and arms all receive the same attention as I worship at the altar of my goddess.

"Sono pronto per te," I'm ready for you, I mumble between licks and sucks.

Her hand fists my hair and she pulls me up to face her. "Please. I can't …"

I move in for a kiss to quell her desperation and break it off abruptly, my tongue trailing downward as I make the journey to her center. The water droplets have all evaporated in the heat, but wetness is everywhere and I want to inhale every drop.

I mumble random thoughts in Italian between long, slow licks and harsh nibbles. Her thighs have me pinned in place and this is where I want to die. She tastes like a fresh kill feels, igniting a new kind of adrenaline within me and I lose it for a second. Riding the wave, I thrust and lick and tug at a frenzied pace until she falls into the abyss around my tongue.

The atmosphere settles around me, and I come back to my senses. With slow, languid licks and nips, I work my way back across the flat panes of her abdomen and up her chest, between her breasts, as she fights to gain control of her breathing. I continue up her neck and to her lips where I place a soft kiss before bracing myself above her.

"Farò l'amore con te, solare," I whisper, my lips near her ear, informing her that I'm going to make love to her now.

I fist my cock, propped on one elbow. "Amore lento e dolce." (Slow, sweet love)

Her wetness coats me and her heat envelops me as I push inside. Her thighs clamp onto my legs and her arms settle on my sides. Her dark eyes are open and on me as I start to move within her at a slow and easy pace. Each action is met with her own reaction and even as there's nothing frantic in our movements, the passion builds with each pass. Never in my life has something so basic felt so fucking good.

"Ti amo più della vita," I grunt out, telling her I love her more than life as the tightening in my stomach begins to build.

"More," she pants, her eyes falling closed.

"Sei tutto per me," I mumble, telling her she's everything to me. "Voglio passare il resto della mia vita sepolto dentro di te." (I want to spend the rest of my life buried inside you)

Her breathing stutters and low moan escapes between barely parted lips. "More."

"Sei una dea," I utter between nips to her jaw. (You are a goddess)

"Mi fai sentire complete." (You make me feel complete)

"La mia vita è tua." (My life is yours)

Her nails dig into my flesh as her back arches, and my pace quickens. The moans and mewls are steady now and her legs have locked around me like a fucking vise. She's only holding on by a single thread, so I place my lips to her ear.

"Vieni per me, solare," I beg in a harsh whisper, pleading for her to come.

Her walls start quivering and pulsating around me, and she clings to me like a lifeline. My vision goes fuzzy as a rose hue creeps in and begins to surround us. I don't question it. I don't think I'm imagining anything. I know it's real and it's coming from within. Our love is palpable, filling the air with beauty.

My own thread snaps and suddenly I'm falling into an oblivious wasteland of emotion. Time has no meaning. Life has no meaning. The only things that matter are me, the love of my life and this blissful ecstasy.

I never want it to end.

Full circles for our lovers, and it feels like the quiet before the storm.

See you in 2 weeks :)