Posted 2021-11-19; Beta'd by Eeyorefan12
As Edward had predicted, his mother's Labor Day picnic was packed with family and friends. He'd only introduced Bella to a few people, not wanting to overwhelm her. There had been congratulations from all sides, but he could see that she wasn't enjoying the weight of all the attention. At least her pregnancy symptoms were not making themselves known. Announcing their engagement was one thing, but except for family, word about the baby could wait.
He was glad to be out of the limelight himself, and he was hungry too. His mother's cooking was not to be missed.
"Wow," Bella said, standing in front of one of the long tables of food. "This is some . . . picnic."
Edward chuckled. "Yeah, we've pointed out to her that the name is a bit misleading."
"I'll say."
They put food on their plates, moving along slowly. When they got to the salads, Bella put her hand to her mouth and snorted out a laugh. "No way."
"What?" Edward looked at the table, searching for whatever had inspired her mirth.
She waved her hand in front of her face, clearly trying not to giggle.
"What is it?" Edward said again, more quietly. There were people in front of and behind them.
She put a hand on his shoulder, leaning in close to whisper, "There are four kinds of potato salad here." She snickered as she read the labeling place cards out loud: "German, Irish, American, Bacon-Ranch . . ."
He grinned as he nudged her shoulder with his arm and pointed at a bowl to her right. "Don't forget the yams."
"Oh my God!"
Now they were both laughing.
"What are you two going on about?" Esme asked, walking over with a fresh bowl of orzo salad and setting it on the table.
"Inside joke, Mom. Never mind."
She patted him on the back. "It's good to see you laughing again, darling." She smiled fondly at Bella, clearly crediting her for her son's present happiness, and then moved on to greet a late arrival.
Edward watched her go, sighing internally. Yes, he really needed to get rid of the moody jackass thing once and for all—and the woman next to him was already helping with that.
Stepping closer to Bella, he put a hand on her hip and brought his lips to her ear. "Hey, for our wedding, we're wearing our beetle jewelry. And I'm telling Alice we want nothing but potato dishes at the reception. And a giant potato cake."
"Wouldn't that just be . . . a big hash brown?"
Edward let go of her and clutched his chest with his hand in mock horror. "Do not let my half-Irish mother hear you say that!"
A few minutes later, he was only halfway through his plate of food when he saw Mitch appear at the edge of the garden, squinting as he scanned the crowd. When his gaze lit on Edward's father, he moved quickly towards him, nodding to Esme before Carlisle walked away with him.
"Do I need to toss you a penny?" Bella asked.
"Sorry, what?"
"Whatcha thinkin'?" She nudged his toe with hers from her spot on the bench.
"That something's about to blow up," he muttered.
"Wait . . . you're not being literal, are you?"
He frowned. "God, I wish. It'd probably be simpler to deal with. Um, no. Things at work are . . . a little complicated right now."
At the periphery of the party, his father nodded grimly. When he turned in their direction, the expression on Carlisle's face told Edward all he needed to know.
He swore under his breath.
"See you later," Bella said, sighing and waving half-heartedly, having followed his gaze.
He shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Bella."
"I know. Yada yada. I'll go keep Alice company. It looks like we're both losing our men for a bit—or the rest of the afternoon, I'm guessing."
Edward hoped that her words were not prescient in terms of their business dealings, but he had a bad, bad feeling about this.
Slowly, so as not to draw too much attention to their leaving, the summoned family members slipped away. Carlisle first, then Jasper, Edward, and Rosie. They all met up with Mitch and a few others inside the boardroom.
"How bad is it?" Rosie asked.
"Thanks, Al," Carlisle murmured when the man finished setting up the projector. Edward's father pressed a few buttons on the screen, pulling up several still satellite images. There was an audible intake of breath as the people in the room registered their significance.
"Is that—" Jasper began.
"It's ours," Carlisle said.
In the close-ups, they could see the small boat tied beside a dock; beyond it were several larger vessels in the official red of the coast guard.
"This is just off of North Carolina."
Damn.
"How many of our people are on board?" Edward asked. It was usually only one or two, the rest of the crew kept an arm's length away by being on the payroll of well-hidden subsidiaries.
"Two." His father gave the names.
Edward groaned. They weren't high in the chain of command, but they knew enough to compromise several key business areas. They wouldn't have been the leak, but Edward had a pretty good idea where the security hole had been. "Damn Italians," he muttered.
"We don't know for sure yet," Al said.
Edward scoffed. It wasn't on their end that security was lax. "Has anyone found out how the authorities caught this one?"
"I'm on it," Jasper said, standing. There wasn't much more to be done together. They each had their roles to play in this scenario, all well-rehearsed. "Drop by in a few," Jasper murmured only to Edward. "I've got the results you asked about."
It took Edward the better part of the hour to lock down, transfer, and delete any accounts that could be compromised by their loss, this slowed down by the flurry of phone calls his work generated and the fact that it was the long weekend. When the largest potential losses were contained, he headed across the hall to ask his father about the funds they wanted to leave as a decoy; a few small accounts that went nowhere were more likely to curtail digging than inspire it. The DEA could take their little hoard and think they'd hamstrung a drug counterfeiting ring. At least—and here he gave silent thanks—the feds wouldn't know it was theirs. They could, however, figure out that it was in some way connected to the Morandis, and that made Edward incredibly nervous.
When he got to Carlisle's office, though, his father was on the phone, clearly involved in a much longer and more complex conversation. He gave Edward the five–minute sign.
Nodding, Edward walked away, telling himself he was going to check on Jasper's end of things but knowing it was a flimsy pretext. He was itching to find out what the results were.
"Hey, how's it going?" Edward asked from the doorway.
Jasper lifted his eyebrows and sighed, not stopping his typing. "About as good as you can expect, meaning pretty crappy all around."
"Yes." This was a huge loss, no way around it, but at least it wasn't crippling. Still, it had been entirely avoidable. Edward made himself close his eyes and take a deep breath, reining in the frustration that might otherwise overwhelm him. He'd left things in good shape in Italy. All they'd had to do was follow his protocols—
Jasper finished typing. "I, um . . . printed the lab results for you." He held out the paper. "Maybe now is not the time to read it?"
"Why?" Edward asked, glancing at the report.
Ah. That was why.
His dad stepped into the office. "Where are Felix and Demetri?"
Speak of the devil. Edward shook his head at the page in his hand. He wished he'd nailed more than the man's ears to the wall.
"They're onsite," Jasper said. "Crew quarters."
"We need to get them out—now." There was fear in his father's voice.
Edward frowned as he turned to face him. His dad never showed fear—ever. If he was afraid, it was because someone knew something that would endanger them, and there were few candidates that would inspire such concern. They worked hard to stay off government radar, but with this seizure and its sensitive cargo, Edward suspected it meant both DEA and FBI involvement. Someone in law enforcement had put things together. If they were looking for Demetri and Felix, that endangered the Cullens directly.
"Why?" Jasper asked.
"Later," Carlisle said. "I'll call to get the jet ready. I'll send Al—"
"I'll get them," Edward said.
"Uh, I can—" Jasper started.
"No," Edward said, holding up his hand. "You've still got stuff to do. I'm pretty much done." He rattled off the dummy account names to his father, who nodded in approval as he hurried back to his office.
Edward jogged down to the staff quarters, knocking on Demetri's door. When Demetri opened it, Edward was curt. "Pack. Everything. You've got five minutes. Meet me downstairs in the parking lot." Demetri said nothing but nodded.
Then Edward pounded twice on Felix's door. As soon as it opened, he rushed him, dropping and pinning him facedown with a knee in his back. "Our shipment's been compromised, and the feds are on it. Give me one good reason not to permanently eliminate any concern I have about you."
Felix took a few seconds to reply, clearly thinking about what answer was appropriate or—Edward hoped—safe to give. His voice was strained under Edward's weight. "Your father wouldn't like you killing me, and it would be bad if I was captured."
They were good reasons, but it had been a gratifying five seconds of watching the man squirm. "Well then, while I have you here, perhaps you can explain to me why your fingerprints were all over the box of condoms I had in Italy?"
Silence.
Edward twisted Felix's arm and the man grunted in pain. "She was hospitalized because she was so sick, you asshole. She had no idea she was pregnant." He let go and stepped back, watching Felix haul himself up from the floor.
As Felix righted himself, he smirked at Edward unrepentantly. "So Aro was correct? It worked? She is going to have your baby?" Then he laughed.
If Edward had needed confirmation that Aro had been involved in this, there it was. But instead of rage, he felt a strange calm. Looking Felix in the eye, he grinned. "Yeah, it worked, asshole. And I couldn't be happier. You did me a favor."
The satisfaction of watching the smile slide off of Felix's face was worth the subterfuge. No, it certainly hadn't been anything he'd planned but his present happiness wasn't a lie—Aro had handed him everything he never knew he wanted by accident. Felix didn't need to know that.
Time was running short, and he needed to get both Aro's men out of there. He glared at Felix. "Get your stuff. You're leaving in three minutes."
Felix packed quickly, stuffing his clothes and personal effects into a duffel bag. Edward watched him carefully. He wouldn't trust him with an inch of liberty, not at this point.
Leaving the room, Felix spat in Edward's direction—missing by an inch. "Vaffanculo!"
In a heartbeat, Edward had him against the wall, face-first, his arm and wrist twisted up behind him. "Go screw yourself," he muttered by Felix's ear, returning the sentiment. "And stay away from my family, you sick fuck. If you ever come near my wife again, I will nail il tuo cazzo e testicoli to the wall. There will be nowhere on this earth that you can hide from me. You've seen me work. You know what I can do, and I would find you. You wouldn't stand a chance."
He released him for the second time, seeing the momentary flash of fear in Felix's eyes and deciding it was enough. He herded him out of the room.
It was only when he watched the jet take off, Felix and Demetri safely on board, that Edward was finally able to take and release a deep breath. They weren't anywhere close to being out of the woods, but extracting Aro's men was a damn good start in his mind.
By the time he, his father, and Jasper were done, it was closer to morning than evening. Edward tiptoed into the bedroom, trying not to wake Bella, but his efforts were to no avail as he misjudged the distance between the bed and desk, nearly tripping over the chair.
"Hey, Mr. Stealthy," she said, yawning.
"Sorry. I was trying to be—"
"I know, it's okay." She patted the spot beside her in bed. "Everything all right?"
"As good as it's going to be tonight." He pulled off his shoes and shorts, then hesitated with his hands on the hem of his t-shirt, glancing at Bella. Even in the dim light, he could see that her eyes were focused intently on what he was doing. He pulled off his shirt, leaving him in his boxers.
Bella cleared her throat and returned her attention to his face. "That doesn't sound very okay."
He sighed as he slipped under the covers. "It's not, but it will be. It's more of a pain in the ass right now than anything else."
"Aro stuff?"
He turned to look at her.
"A lucky guess," she said. "I hear you swearing under your breath about the Italians a lot so"—she shrugged—"not hard to put two and two together."
He took her hand, pausing before he spoke. It was safe to say this much. She'd see the effects soon enough—because there would be repercussions for all of them with this new direction. "We're parting ways with them for good. I'd already started, but after today"—he blew out a breath—"it's beyond time. They've become a massive liability, not that you haven't gathered as much."
She squeezed his fingers, nodding, the bob of her head barely visible. She ran her other hand through his hair and then laid her head on his chest. "It's gonna be okay."
He smiled, reveling in the feel of her skin against his and welcoming the physical comfort she offered. Yes, with her, he was going to be okay.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.