Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA

Riders on the Storm

Chapter Thirty-Three: Crumbs

Edward POV

The Twilight Club was just as beat—as boring as it has been these past few years, especially with Midnight Sun stealing the spotlight. But I had to show my face. No meetings have been conducted here in a while, as I couldn't trust this joint. None of my guys work it anymore. No one that I am close to is associated with it at all.

Caius continued to run it, while the geese flew to Midnight Sun or Eclipse.

Now that Sonny is going back and forth maybe we can turn this into a moneymaker again.

Earlier, we'd swept the place, so I could be comfortable. In fact, Luke was looking for me, and I said come on down—same with Carlisle and Nunzio.

As a silent partner, Caius would kick up and I'd also get a percentage of the business. If money was slow, I never knew—not until recently—which shows me how dedicated Caius was. Maybe he was a piece-of-shit human being, but that motherfucker paid me—come rain or come shine.

When I reached to sip my second scotch of the evening, I felt bitter about how that all went down. It still doesn't sit right with me, but I had to eat it—had to put it past me. I had Sonny's word; he didn't mean to kill him. Sonny lost his temper, but C-bag's demise was an accident. I have Aro kissing my and Sonny's asses . . . because of Katie.

All in all, everything was okay.

Despite everything that's gone down the past few months, shit was panning out.

I had no cause to complain.

But . . . anyone who knows me well knows that I'll bitch and moan any-fucking-way.

They hauled my ass down to F.B.I. headquarters last night. Bella made chicken cutlets, and she fried them crispy, and I didn't get the chance to finish dinner. My father jumped into action before we left, although he's retired—in more ways than one—and I wasn't under "formal" arrest.

I was questioned about Caius's disappearance, which was expected and yet odd.

In fact, I must be losing my touch since Carlisle brought up a very valid-fucking-point. Joe's whole fucking family just disappeared. Lauren dropped off the face of the earth, and Caius's death makes headway on the wire?

Now, my boys and I are fucking excellent at what we do. Aro cleaned shit up nicely, and there wasn't a shred of evidence—not even a strand of DNA to link Caius to Aro or Sonny, or even me.

Joe's family? Well, Caius took care of that.

Lauren? The only other person who knew about it was killed in a drive-by shooting.

I dot my "i"s and cross my motherfucking "t"s.

But they questioned me about Caius?

They'd ruled his death a homicide . . . blunt-force trauma or some bullshit. However, Carlisle and Aro dropped him off in the South Bronx, a white boy in the South Bronx. All of which likely indicated that Caius was looking to score and got beat to death in the process.

Dead men tell no tales but they make trails, and all fingers pointing to it can't deny that simple conclusion.

Those fucktard Feds let me go before Carlisle even got down there. I wiped my hands clean, expressed my concern, and gave them an answer—something they wanted to hear. They had nothing to pin on me, arrest me for.

Over the years, the Organized Crime Division has gotten increasingly smaller. There's only a select few who bust my balls these days. With terrorism still such a high threat and the economy shitty, there's simply not enough manpower to haunt me.

I'm thankful, but no one turns a cheek when it comes to murder.

Curious, I had Carlisle poke his nose around, needing more answers. I mean, why was Caius such a high priority?

I think—deep down—I know the answer to that already. I just don't want to believe it, so I've been in denial, hoping for the best.

But I know . . .

And yet I find myself hoping it's some freak fluke because of Caius's high profile.

Most wise guys fly under the radar. They're not flashy and don't air their business. Caius wasn't like that—he dug the attention, the women, the expensive cars, and the whole nine. I'm an exception since I'm the boss. My face still gets plastered all over the media when some bullshit goes down—it can be anything. No matter what happens or if I'm truly linked, if there's a suspicion, my picture gets printed.

My face was actually in the papers this week because of who I am, who Caius was supposedly associated with, since he worked for me.

The article was good, too.

Fact-checkers can blow me, but they had a pretty good idea of what's going on, what our dynamic is these days. Sonny's picture was in the paper as well. The headline read "Alleged Mobster Found Slain", and then it went into who he "supposedly" worked for and how—Edward Cullen, Mafia Don of the Cullen empire, will leave his dynasty to his son, Santino Cullen. It also said that we run things as a pair nowadays. That's not true. We're no team. Sonny works for me. When I'm dead, it'll be his. Until then, he's but one of my capos, although still one of my main guys.

Bella went ballistic. She's used to seeing my face in the Times, but Sonny's? Our son refused to hide, says he's got nothing to run from, which is true. But I hear he's got Maggie on a short leash—she's only allowed to leave the house to go to school and my crib, that's it—he's afraid the Feds will go after her to get to him.

Believe it or not, I've slowed down. I don't want to be away from my family—get pinched and do time—but I'd serve out a sentence if need be before I'd sell anyone out. I'd done it before.

Fuckers do my bidding with a smile . . . think it's an honor, so I essentially don't need to get my hands dirty, but I like to.

Some motherfuckers—whether they take the oath or not—start singing as soon as they're asked for a song, as soon as they're threatened with prison time.

Caius was always in this thing and that thing...

One would think they'd be looking to commemorate whoever took him out.

It's funny.

On top of having Carlisle dig around, I called Nunzio here for a sit-down. Just like my brother, Aro, and now Sonny, know almost my every move, Nunz rode along with Caius on nearly everything.

Sadly, while my mind was far removed from my current surroundings, I still had Aro and Luke at the table. Aro can stay, but I wanted Luke gone—to step off. He came out of his way to talk to me about our kids' wedding, or lack thereof, when he needn't have bothered.

Thankfully, for him, my head was too full. I mentally checked out as he droned on and on about shit I didn't want to hear.

I'm standing behind Damion and his decision. It doesn't matter his reasoning or what Amelia did or didn't do, or what Luke just said—shit I didn't hear anyway—or what I'd personally gain from the merger.

None of that mattered.

Damion says he changed his mind, and I'm backing him.

Parents, just like children, sometimes learn from their mistakes. And maybe I didn't support Damion to the best of my ability in the past, but I was going to make up for that in spades—no matter fucking what.

"But if you could speak to your son—"

I put a hand up to stop him. "Enough. The kids had a change of heart. The way I heard it, breaking up was a mutual thing." I wiped my hands clean. "In regards to us—our relationship—I'd like to keep it as is, so there's no problems."

Luke nodded. "I agree. I'm not here to talk about us—business matters . . . father to father, you know?" He gestured between us. "My daughter is heartbroken. My baby girl's not eating, she's not sleeping. Dame's not taking her calls, and it's been weeks—all she does is cry, holed up in her bedroom . . . Skip, I don't want to get into just how disrespectful your son is—"

"What?" I smiled. "Disrespectful? You wanna talk about disrespect?"

"Take it easy," Aro whispered in my ear.

I ignored my friend, staring at Luke. "Do yourself a favor and listen to me carefully—"

Luke sighed. "Forget I said that, please. My bad. I apologize."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Aro cut me off, forever trying to play peacekeeper. "It's understandable. It's a heated topic—talking about your kids," Aro said, nodding his head as he squeezed my forearm.

Luke was fast to speak after Aro. "Bottom line, Amelia disagrees with their separation. She didn't want to call off the wedding. If you could just tell Damion to call her, maybe they can talk this out. Back in the day...it wouldn't have gone down like this, and I know you're a man of tradition. We would have discussed things, like we're doing now, and they'd be married already. My daughter still wants to marry your son. I'd be willing to sweeten the deal, too—that goes without saying."

"Whoa!" Aro laughed. "Even back in our day, arranged marriages were a thing of the past. I mean, I thought it was all arranged. Youse two agreed you'd stay out of it—let the kids meet and connect. Sounds like they've disconnected, though." He spoke the truth, but I did wish my brother was around—he has more finesse, ways of speaking without it sounding like a threat. What Aro said wasn't menacing at all, but if I opened my mouth . . .

"It worked for my parents." Luke shrugged, sipping his drink.

"Mine, too." Aro actually nodded. "But it doesn't always work out. Look at C and Esme—"

"Stop." I placed my hand on Aro's chest, since he had no business speaking about my brother to Luke.

"Sweeten it how, though?" Aro asked, giving me a wary glance.

"Bayonne and Newark Bay—they'd be yours," he said. "I'd pull my guys out. You'd have control of the ports—imports, exports."

"And that leaves you with what?" Aro chuckled.

"The merger still happens—there's peace in Staten Island. We work together like we previously discussed. You'd have my back with moving against those douchebags in Philly." That group is even smaller than Jersey, and yet Luke's worried about numbers. "That's all I want . . . The wedding is back on. If you could convince your son—if they can grant us a grandchild—that'd be an added bonus. It'd solidify things—make 'em permanent." His gaze met mine.

Luke's words about his daughter, only his daughter—while they weren't unreasonable, they grated on my nerves. His presence, him coming here to plead his case, when I know it's mostly for his own personal gain, pissed me off. I had no idea how Amelia was faring, but what the fuck? I bet she was fine.

"No deal." I leaned toward him. "I'm finished speaking about this."

Luke stabbed the table with his finger. "This is the first time I'm able to get you alone, and we can't even talk—we're not even alone." He widened his arms. "I'm here talking to your boy." He gestured to Aro. "This—"

I flinched toward him, which made Luke shrink back. "Get the fuck outta hea!"

"Skip." Aro kept me from flying across the table as he looked to Luke. "You heard him, bro. I'd go—"

"Nah." I waved Aro and his warning away. "Bring this up again, and we'll have problems. It's as simple as that. We said we'd stay out of it. We're staying out of it. The wedding's off...The kids get back together, that's their business."

Luke cleared his throat. "With all due respect—"

"Fuck that!" I shouted. "You don't respect my word or my wishes, you don't respect me. I'm not tryin'a force my kid to marry her."

"Skip, you have a daughter," he pleaded. "Amelia's heartbroken."

I slid out of the booth and walked toward the back. It was the least I could do or else I'd end up bitch-slapping the New Jersey boss around a few of his guys.

And he'd have to take it.

Thank me for it before he left.

Just thinking about that . . . Well, it kind of made me feel drunk with power.

And by walking away . . . Luke will be looking over his shoulder all the time. He wouldn't dare strike first. He may think I need him, need his bullshit tribute, but just like I'd squashed his brother back in the day, homeboy could meet the same fucking fate and I wouldn't think twice about it. I'd just place someone else in his spot, collect the same dough each week.

When I entered the office, Sonny was behind the desk with an adding machine, his fingers prancing along the numbers. He seemed deep in thought about something else, though.

"Yo."

He finally looked up when I slammed the door.

"You busy?" I asked.

He puffed his cheeks. "Just trying to figure out how Caius turned a profit is all. Trying to figure out how to pay you."

I hummed, taking a seat across from him. "There's another mystery to unfold about Mr. Macari."

Sonny chuckled. "Sounds like a movie title."

I raised a brow, noticing he had a little powder by his nostril. "You need to clean up."

"What?"

I hit my nose. "Ease up on that." It bothered me, but he's twenty-eight. He's been busy, and sometimes fuckers need help keeping up. "You hitting the yak every day? What's up?"

"Fuck no...You act like..." He stretched and wiped at his nose.

"People say you can't get addicted to it, but that's bullshit. You can—"

"Jesus!"

"All right." I trusted him, let it go.

"I think C-bag had many a business on the side." He nodded. "How else . . . this doesn't make sense. The numbers don't add up." He hit the paper-tape before he leaned back to sigh, rubbing his forehead. "What'd he give you each week—as profit?"

"Trib or this piece of shit?" I looked around.

"Both—a rough estimate."

I blew out a breath. "I'd get six large a week being a silent partner. It hasn't been that good in years . . . but I still got paid. Kick up? You'd have to confer with Aro about that."

Sonny pursed his lips. "With costs, employees—it looks like this joint clears seven altogether. One can guess Caius—"

"He made sure he paid me." I pointed to myself.

Sonny shook his head. "Something's off."

"Look, how my guys make their bread and butter—Come on, Sonny. He had a hand in a lot of shit. But whatever it was . . . he gave me my percentage. As long as I get paid and my guys are covering their asses, I have no cause to complain. It's as simple as that," I laughed.

"But you also have your hand in everything everyone does."

I shrugged. "The less I know the better, though, overall. I've told you that how many times? As long as it doesn't come back to me—"

"I get it."

I banged my fist down onto the desk. "Don't do that." I hate it when he cuts me off.

"I'm sorry," he was quick to utter.

Truth be told, I wasn't in the mood—not for Luke, not for Aro or Sonny, and definitely not for Nunzio—whenever he shows up. "What time's Nunz supposed to be here?"

Sonny looked to his watch. "In twenty minutes."

"Damn." I hoped to be on the highway and going home in a half-hour. "Do your old man a favor."

"What's up?" Sonny asked.

"Go out on the floor . . . chill out until Luke leaves, make eyes at him from the fucking bar." I smiled. "Make him shit his pants."

Sonny sipped his soda. "Okay."

"Then...some time tonight we gotta talk," I said.

My son furrowed his brow. "Talk to me now. I moved two sit-downs to tomorrow—I'm hoping to leave early."

I heaved a heavy sigh, unbuttoning my jacket and leaning back. "Adriano...he's moving up, right?" I spoke of the half-breed he's got on his crew. He's no knock-around guy, he's earning big, lives out on Staten Island; meanwhile, his cousin's a capo over in Jerz. His family has ties in both states—half-breed, but loyal.

Sonny's lips drew a tight line. "He's the best heist guy I got right now—takes care of a lot for me. I can't afford for you to give him a promotion, unless you planned to have him man C-bag's crew . . . But I'm actually utilizing every head I have. I'm cut in how many pieces as it is—I'm not sleeping. I haven't spent any time with my wife, and you want him? Can I ask when my punishment might be over? I'm earning with three fucking hands here, running C-bag's shit and my own...paying you how much already?"

"First of all, you made your fucking bed. Lie in it," I said.

"But Dame takes out Joe—which in turn killed how many? He gets a fucking pass, and he ain't even in this shit. If his last name wasn't Cullen, he'd be rotting in a ditch somewheres. And I get what?" he asked. "Dad, I agree, all right? If you didn't give Dame a pass, I would've taken the fall for him, 'cause he wouldn't be able to handle the repercussions. But come on already."

"Second, you got five more cats at your disposal." I continued with my previous thought, despite what he said, as I tried to rein in my temper. Sonny was pushing it, pushing me to my limit. "Like you said, utilize those motherfuckers. Spread shit around a little more. Use your fucking head." I pointed to my temple. "Run my businesses. Have the rest do that other shit!"

Sonny nodded, having more on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn't going to say any of it.

"But no, I don't want him for a fucking thing. I'll give you that. Adriano's a capo when you say he is . . . I wanna know what Luke has coming in and out of Newark Bay."

"I could find that out easy." He pointed to himself.

"Well, then..." I shrugged. "Find out when the big shit's coming in. I just wanna know if it's of any value, really," I lied.

"We're moving against Jersey?" he asked. "Dad—"

"No...that's not what I'm saying. I wanna know if that spot's worth anything . . . before we take control of it." Luke made me an offer that I actually liked. He was gonna give that shit up anyway—just because I could put Luke in his fucking place.

"All right. I'll let you know when I do."

I snapped my fingers, thinking of a low-man who used to be on C-bag's crew. "Battista—that kid. Have him and a few others ready to move."

"I'm confused," Sonny admitted. "We're not moving against them, but we're going to find out what comes in and out, and then rob them?"

I winked. "You got it."

"That makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense," I said. "Philly's had their eyes on those docks for how long?"

"You're looking to stir the pot. Say no more. I get it."

"Glad you do . . ." I checked my cell phone for any missed calls.

"I'll—I'll take care of it tomorrow—"

"Tonight. It's just…" I felt badly since he's running ragged, and he looked all hopeful. "Tomorrow's fine . . . Once Luke takes such a large hit, he'll actually beg us to help police that shit. It'll be ours without a struggle, and Bayonne will follow. Now get your big ass out there and scare that motherfucker."

When he left, I called Carlisle. My brother said he'd be here in fifteen minutes; meanwhile, he was late. The twins have ear infections or something. Although he sounded excited to be on his way. Carlisle was either happy to escape his home, or he had some good shit to tell me.

If Caius was up to something shady . . . I had mixed feelings about that.

I know . . . which I keep denying.

What I didn't want was for his possible betrayal to be widespread news. But only because I didn't wanna backpedal and thank Sonny for a job well done. I'd told his ass on more than one occasion not to lay a finger on C-bag, and what does he do . . .

Curious, boredom getting the best of me, I searched the closet we have in here. Tonight's the first time I'm actually out and about, and I wouldn't tell Sonny or anyone else about the hidden cubby under the loose Sheetrock. Back when Jasper ran this shit for Caius, we used to hide money in there. It's concealed nicely, and most fuckers looking to rip the place apart would go for the safe first.

Lo and behold, there were stacks upon stacks of cash in there. Looking around some more, I'd say there was four million in hundred dollar bills.

I smiled to myself, taking quite a bundle to line my waist with, and then another twenty thousand to break up and put in my pockets.

Simply because—the way I saw it—I deserved my piece, too.

The rest, I'll have Sonny divvy up and give to Caius's daughters. Then they'd no longer be his problem or my problem. Just like paying off the widows of those slain, I make sure to take care of the children.

I'm a nice guy like that.

As I was about to stand up straight, I noticed that there was linoleum lining the floor. It wasn't like that while Jasper and I ran it. It used to be wood like the rest of the office. Sure enough, a tile gave way easily with the help of my pocketknife.

It was like I'd won the lottery. There was no way I could count how much was hidden in the floor, but if I had to guess it was another six million.

What the fuck? I thought.

Caius was either ripping me off, not giving me a piece of all his earnings—for real—or he kept all his money, every cent, hidden here at Twilight, like what he'd made throughout the years.

"Fuck it." I emptied the garbage pail and started to fill that bitch up.

Once it's all counted, I'll figure out what his twins can have.

"He left, practically ran outta here." Sonny was back. "What'chu doing?"

"Close the door!" I spat.

He did so quickly to stand at my side, just watching.

"Help me," I said.

My son didn't skip a beat, piling the stacks into the trash can. "Where did this come from?"

I smiled. "Old hiding spot from when Jasper managed."

"How much do you think…?"

"Five million?" I lied.

'Cause I'm a greedy fucker like that, too.

"It was here the whole time? I've been coming here for over two fucking weeks." In this shit, it's easily finders keepers. Sonny could have lifted all this shit, and I'd have been none the wiser. You know what? I don't even think my son would do that. He'd give me my percentage.

"You'll get a piece." I rolled my eyes. "No worries." I'm not that greedy.

Well . . .

Sonny stopped to put his hands up. "I think your friend had more going on here than just drinks and a decent DJ. Where would he get all this money?"

I shook my head. "We'll find out when Nunzio gets here. He or your uncle will have answers. Or it might not be complex at all. You said he was stingy with his crew, and youse didn't find anything tossing his house upside down."

"Not even a quarter in the couch cushions," Sonny confirmed.

"This was likely his one and only stash. Never do this." I pointed down.

"I know . . . I have money floating all over." Sonny nodded. "Some of my money is making its own money." He snorted.

"Good boy."

"I actually opened another account for Maggie yesterday. She doesn't know—it's just in case. God forbid anything happens to me, she's set for life...if I die. I mean, she knows where some of my hiding spots are . . . She's had her own checking account for a while now, for whatever she can't use cash for . . . I'm torn about the other account."

"Why?" I asked.

"Like...should I give that info to Dame? You? Mom? I just—it's a lot of money. Maggie will get all nervous and think something's up if I tell her. If something happens to me—"

"You can trust your brother," I said, trying not to laugh. "Trust. You drop dead, he'll have no beef taking care of Mags."

My son narrowed his eyes.

"I was kidding. Geez." I whistled, getting back to work, filling another bag full of money. "But . . ." I stopped again to stare up at him. "Dame's eased up, with whatever that was, him digging Maggie." I waved a hand. "I used to trust Carlisle to take care of Mom and you guys because he did care for her—always loved you guys like his own. Back in the day, whether he wanted to fuck Bella—I mean, Mom—or not, he still, deeply and truly cared, had genuine feelings, love for your mother no matter where it originally stemmed from. You see where I'm going with this? He cared enough to make sure she'd want for nothing if I was gone. If he put his hands on her after I was dead..." I shrugged. "I'd be dead, haunting his ass, rattling chains, or something." We shared a laugh, the both of us cracking up.

"The point is...is that she's taken care of." I patted his back. "Hey, I get it. My brother can be a douchebag, too, yet he knows when to do the right thing. Have more faith in Dame."

"Yeah," he said.

"You take the bar next month. Then you'll have your own office. You hide a bundle there, hide it in mutual funds, offshore accounts, stocks, and bonds, too...You put them all in Maggie's name. The house is in yours because—well, it was my gift for you. She divorces you, I still want you to have—"

"Divorce is not an option."

"Youse talk?"

He nodded. "I just...you trust Carlisle with your money. If anything happens to you, Unc knows where all your spots are."

"He used to...I still trust him, but Mom knows everything, and now she has you," I whispered, banking on going before him. I have to—have to die before any of them, which was something I pushed out of my head quickly, not wanting to depress myself. "Something happens to me, all your mother needs is moral support. She's taken care of."

"Oh." He pushed his hair back. "It's weird 'cause...I never really cared before, but now I have something to lose."

I stopped what I was doing once more, able to relate to that more than he'd ever know. "Ain't that a mindfuck?" Sadly, I had no advice on how to cope with that, except . . . "Where you are now, at this stage of the game, it's as close as you'll ever come to tenure. There are no guarantees. The mighty fall all the time. To take me down, whoever would go for you and Aro first . . . or someone close will stage a coup. You gotta keep your eyes open, be able to see your enemies. You make your money when you can, and you enjoy life...I was going to say where," I snorted, "but you're married now. Marriage and this shit, it's a balancing act, with loads of temptation thrown your way...many struggle with. I mean, you're not blind."

"I'm not talking about infidelity." He smirked. "I meant...getting clipped, pinched."

"Oh, I know. My thoughts." I poked my temple. "You find yourself taking fewer risks—" I hit his arm "—being more cautious, which isn't a bad thing at all. Just wait. Wait 'til you have kids, though—wanna talk about worry, shit to lose?" I winced, wishing I'd never said that word: kids.

Sonny hummed, not commenting.

"You know, her upbringing wasn't so far from your own." I almost bit my tongue, but thought, fuck it. "Her family's Catholic, very much so, which means...birth control's a no-no. Some Pope made the decree eons ago. You push, and Mags'll get on the baby train. You're the husband. At the end of the day, no matter how much she bitches and moans, you literally have the upper hand. She's also young, likely easily manipulated . . . I'm just being real about it. You do what you can live with." Damn. I really wanted to be a grandpa.

"Force her to have my baby?" He raised a brow. "At what cost?"

"Eh . . ." I didn't know what else to say, having a feeling I'd said too much already, gave him fucked-up advice to boot. But I want a grandchild just as badly as he wants a baby. "If . . ."

"What?" he asked.

I pursed my lips. "We never had this conversation. Understand? I never said any of that, or what I'm about to say. Your mother will rip off my balls, shove 'em down my throat, and light my ass on fire."

Sonny chuckled. "Stop."

"Okay," I sighed. "Listen, like I said, you do what you can live with. You need to ask yourself how important this issue is. If you can wait five, ten years, whenever she's ready, then by all means. But you just said divorce wasn't an option. So, my question to you is, what are you afraid of? If you'll never let her go, if she can't leave you, you'd hunt her down, then...what'll happen if you give her a little nudge? Pull out the husband card?"

"Wow." He shook his head. "You probably think I'm a pussy, but all that just made me nauseous."

I shook my head. "That makes you honest, a good person. Not a pussy. All I was saying was that..."

"I know what you were saying. Have you ever manipulated Mom like that?"

"Nothing too shady." I blew out a breath. "Your mother and I play mind games with each other all the time. I don't wanna do something, she uses reverse psychology." I shrugged. "And vice versa. I do that shit to her, too. When I wanted a baby and she didn't, I made her feel guilty...flipped her words around and played some victim." I remembered that fondly.

"What was the end result?"

I gestured to my son—him.

"Oh."

"In marriage, you basically need to learn how to pick your battles...when to make a stink. Depends on what it's worth."

Sonny poured himself some Jack, gulping that shit. "I miss her like crazy. When I get home, she's asleep. When I wake up, she's at school . . ."

"I know what that's like," I said. "Having kids...you'd just be adding to that, though—always feeling torn if you're mad busy."

He nodded.

"Look at me." He met my gaze. "You held a shitload of grudges against me as a kid, all 'cause I wasn't home, was locked up. I remember it all. I'm telling you to delegate, and you have, and yet you're still runnin' 'round the clock. Granted, shit'll slow down soon—once all this Caius shit is settled, and you'll get back to normal. But just think about that shit, too."

"Right now I don't have a choice, but I'd...Dad, if Maggie and I had a child, no matter what. I'd take a backseat because you taught me that my family comes first. I'd do what I do, but...I want to actually be a father to my kids." He spoke so fucking fast.

"Have another shot...slow down." I poured him some more Jack. "Then you learn from my mistakes." I nodded. "Be a better father than I was." Sighing, I sat across from him. "I loved the fuck outta you guys. Still do. I love your mother more than anything. But when I was younger, I loved this shit too." I widened my arms. "I also worked my ass off to make sure that if anything happened to me, you'd all be set for life."

He nodded. "I know how that is. I love this shit, too...but I love Maggie more."

"I love your mother more, too." I snorted. "You kidding? You know how many times she asked me to leave it all behind?" I frowned, doubting myself, 'cause if I love Bella as much as I say, think I do . . . "Edward Cullen doesn't run."

"Neither would his son," Sonny said.

We didn't talk much more after that. We sat and drank from that bottle of Jack, as I'm sure we both thought about our previous conversation. But then my mind went back to this shit . . . the sacks of money.

Now I waited anxiously, yet ten million dollars richer, for Carlisle and Nunzio—needing answers. I left the money I had on my person right where it was, but I was conflicted as to what I should do with the rest, how I'd get it out of the club without anyone seeing.

Technically, I was robbing a dead man.

What was truly surprising about this whole ordeal? How compliant Caius's crew was when Sonny took over. He was likely a dick to them, a hard-ass, but my son ain't no saint either.

Sonny told me they were happy because now they'd finally make some money.

I'd bet some of this cash that Caius made them kick up a lot more than they should have, withheld money after the jobs they'd pull. Each capo runs their shit their way, and Caius was old school. All spoils traveled to his greedy paws first, and his guys got what he deemed necessary.

Plus, he probably put the fear of God into them so they wouldn't complain to Aro or myself.

Sonny runs his crew the way I taught him—how I ran my shit back in the day. He gets a percentage of each heist, each dollar, knows the numbers, and if he's getting cheated. He gets a piece of each pie, but he doesn't eat half and leave them the crumbs.

I told him, "You treat them well, and they'll treat you better. Use a firm hand when necessary; make examples when you want to. But if you're fair, they'll have more respect. And those examples will instill fear. One hand washes the other, and there's peace amongst ranks."

"Pull your car around back," I said.

"You want me to leave this much cash in my car?" Sonny laughed.

"No. I want you to put this shit in your trunk, and then get one of the kids to sit on it—watch it. Something happens . . . hey." I shrugged.

"Right." Sonny left, hauling all that shit, while Carlisle was about to knock, hand raised and all. "Um." My son looked back to me.

I waved my brother inside. "Nunz out there yet?" I asked.

Carlisle nodded, smiling widely.

When Sonny left, I grinned back at my brother. "What's up?"

"You—" he slammed his briefcase onto his desk "—would not believe the shit Victor found."

"Victor." My voice took a somber tone, as Victor is our F.B.I informant. "Just tell me." Instantly pissed, I hoped it was some bullshit . . . even if my gut told me that C-bag's name was going to follow in some way.

"Well," Carlisle sighed, trying to hide his smile. "You want the good news or—"

"Just fuckin' tell me!" I shouted.

"Jesus," he hissed.

"I swear to Christ . . ."

"All right!" He put his palms up. "I'll start small and then work my way up."

I nodded, hoping he'd get on with it.

"You don't even know!" He widened his arms. "We dodged one huge fucking bullet!" He could hardly contain himself. "They were building a massive RICO case—very hush-hush, only amongst the higher-ups. Multiple indictments that won't stand on their own. They have shit going back a few years—"

"Excuse me?"

"Victor had no idea—not until recently when they had to throw it out, start at the beginning." His leg was bouncing, yet he seemed confused. "Fuck. I don't know where to start."

"At the beginning," I stated the obvious.

"Right." He chuckled. "I don't know what was said on the wiretap they had—"

"Whoa." I held up a finger.

"Let me finish," he whispered. "Fucking Heidi was their cooperating witness—for what? I don't know, but I'm going to guess you slipped one day, were talking about icing this one or that one. There's no statute of limitations on murder, bro. That's why I've drawn that conclusion, which means . . . That bitch is out there somewhere, just waiting in the wings, living off government dime."

Heidi, now there's a blast from the past, a name I haven't heard in nearly thirty years. She'd planted that bitch in Eclipse—the one Carlisle clipped who turned out to be a Fed. Heidi pushed me to hire her, although—to this day—I still have no idea what the Feds had on Heidi to make her cooperate. She was just a manager, but I have no idea what other things she might have been into. If memory serves me correctly, she had kids—a husband, and yet she'd be my ready escort from time to time. Nothing personal, always business, but she never knew what was really going down.

"I want those tapes."

"There's no way." He shrugged. "Plus, even if they have you on tape, it's not like Heidi knows where the body is. It's bullshit, but they were grasping at straws. With the way shit is, they're not going to come at you unless they have some concrete shit. That's why it's been so quiet. I told you. The prosecutor is tired of the Feds coming at them with garbage—shit I get you out of before your bail posts. Understand? Also, they put her into witness protection 'cause those were her terms. She drops dime on you, plants a Fed, she and her fam disappear."

"Go on. What else?" My stomach was in knots, mostly because I was pissed. Fuck the tapes, my best bet was now finding Heidi. Without someone to swear to who's on the wire, it won't hold up in court. Although I wasn't too worried about Heidi at all, to be honest. Just like my brother said, everything else won't hold up in court either. They all signed a contract, which means Heidi was to be protected no matter what she did for them.

Everyone knows my witnesses disappear.

My brother held his stomach as he blew out a slow breath. "You swept, right? Since keeping shop here?" he whispered.

"Of course." I thought that was a stupid question.

"Caius was nabbed a few years back. There was a raid. Feds got wind he was pushing shit right here. It was kept quiet so they could turn him. That's why we never knew about the Feds coming in here. That was years ago, though."

My eyes widened. "You serious?" I knew that was what he was going to say, that Caius was a rat. Denial and all that.

"He'd been feeding them nothing, literal shit, bro. It's a good thing he's gone, but…he swore to very little. C-bag had his freedom for another nine months. That's it. He had a shelf life, had to bring in the big guns—you—but he never could, or maybe he just never did, was loyal to some degree. They know about your arms dealer down south. They obviously know where the coke is coming into New York from. They know about money laundering through Eclipse, although they can't prove that shit."

I groaned. "Now what?"

"They can't use any of it unless they get someone else to testify to it, tell them the same stories, and that's conspiracy. They can't do it. Now we keep our eyes open. We make sure everyone's on the up and up—"

"He was a rat?" Again, I knew it already.

Carlisle nodded. "They have nothing—nothing concrete. If they did, I'd be worried. All they have is Caius's word on a lot of shit. He'd failed to bring them anything solid. So, he either wanted to do right by you, or—"

"He could have done his time like a man instead of turning coats. You dig?" I practically growled, just due to the headache alone. "I'm not in most of that shit. You see where I'm going?" I raised a brow. "The guns, the money, the fucking coke . . . which I told Santino not to push!" I banged my fist down. "That's all Sonny."

"I know. He had a hard-on for him, I guess." He shook his head. "But it's all good. Caius is dead."

"What about Joe?" I asked. "Caius took care of Joe, Marissa, David…He took care of Joe Jr. for Dame." I kept my voice down.

"Well, Nunzio will know about that. They were together, ran together, and they had shit on Nunzio, too." He nodded. "It wasn't much."

"History's repeating itself."

"Doesn't it always?" he asked. "Take a look around. Not much has changed the past twenty years. It's business as usual, but we haven't had a broadcasting problem in a dog's age."

I did the Sign of the Cross. "I wanna know everything—every fucking word Caius said to the Feds."

"I told you. It was nothing solid. He was feeding them crap to get them off his back."

"He had a loot and a half . . . I bet he was planning on running," I said.

"Most likely . . . Bottom line, unless they can come up with a new witness, someone to back what Caius has said without being groomed by the DA, they can't use any of it. It's all hearsay. It's bullshit either way."

"You said they weren't on us because of terrorism!" I shouted. "I should have known better! Fucking al-Queda, my dick." I grabbed it. "You said—"

"I said they had bigger fish to fry!" he hollered back. "They've been after you for fucking years! So, yeah. They have a mini crew set aside who were working with Caius. I bet they disband and go on their way . . . Edward—" he leaned over the desk to place his hand on mine "—if they had anything—any-fucking-thing—they would not have let you leave last night."

I pursed my lips. "You're right . . . but now what? They go for Sonny, which will inadvertently get me. They'd have me by the balls."

"No. Sonny's name—regardless of if Caius blabbed about his shit—wasn't brought up at all. Maybe he said all that because Caius knew that if they looked into it, it wouldn't go back to you—"

"It'd still lead them to Sonny."

"Sonny's not implicated in a damn thing. Your son covers his ass. Trust me . . . My advice." He placed his hand on his chest. "Get the answers you want from Nunzio, deal with that, and then take Bella on vacation. Go away for two weeks. Combined, Sonny, Aro, and I can clean it up a bit. And, for the last time, Sonny's name wasn't on any of those reports at all. Speaking of, Sonny's been wanting to legitimize a lot of this shit. Maybe it's time we sit and listen."

I nodded.

"We'll have shit settled before you come back. Fuck everyone else. Most of all, we need to keep you outta the can. You get locked up, they'll be a split...chaos."

"Vacation's a good idea . . . but before I leave New York, I wanna know where that bitch Heidi is holed up at. Get me that answer." I pointed.

Carlisle chuckled. "Dude, I already have Victor on it."

"How good is Vic if—"

"He had no idea. Now that he does, he can poke around. Understand? He hasn't failed us yet."

"He hasn't," I agreed.

"And if Sonny didn't do what he did, we wouldn't know a fucking thing. They'd still be preparing indictments and whatnot."

I waved that away. "Sonny disobeyed an order—went against what I said. Just because C-bag's death is now justified, doesn't change a thing. But now you got my head spinning—"

"What?" he asked, sounding a bit frustrated.

"First off, watch your fuckin' tone. Second, did Joe turn? Are they truly dead? Are the Feds gonna show up at NYU looking for my son? This is what's swarming my brain at the moment." I twirled a finger by my temple. "C-bag had my blessing but it was to be a joint venture between him and Sonny. Yet, he took care of it by himself—kept Sonny out of it."

"Joe Jr. and David met the ass-end of Ronnie's meat grinder at the deli. I know that because of Ron. He wanted to know who it was and shit. I told the old man to mind his business. Caius and Nunzio took care of Joe Jr. and his brother," he sighed. "Damion's fine."

I nodded. "And C-bag told me he had some Puerto Rican dudes stage some shit for Joe and his wife, and then he took care of them. He led me to believe he covered his tracks. But did he?"

"I think so," he said. "Only because—murder is murder—and no matter what Caius gave them, he wouldn't get away with a capital charge. Furthermore, Caius could have given them enough shit to put you, Aro, and me away for life. He didn't."

"A rat is still a rat."

"I know that. All I'm saying is that you have nothing to worry about." He grabbed my drink to take a sip.

"Go get Nunzio." I jerked my head to the door. "Tell Aro to come back too."

"You're golden." He slapped his hand to mine. "I'm your lawyer, your brother, and I wouldn't lie to you. If I had anything to worry about, I'd be shipping your ass down to Brazil. Fuck. Alex, me, and the kids would be behind youse."

I nodded, not commenting on any of that, but his words did ease my mind.

While I waited for Aro to come back with Nunzio, I called Damion. Usually when I'm in a mood, I'd call Bella. But I didn't want to worry her, and shit was still up in the air . . . Then again, if the Feds knew about my son's involvement in Joe Jr.'s death, they would have picked him up by now. Yeah, my worries were pointless, but I called Dame anyway.

He was chuckling, in a good mood, when he answered. "Hello?"

"You sound happy." I smiled.

"I am." His answer—not matter how jovial he was—was short like always.

"What are you up to?" I asked.

"Oh . . . studying."

"And…?" I tried to get him to elaborate.

"That's it," he said. "We're studying—Jordan's here."

"Hi, Mr. Cullen!" A feminine voice greeted.

"How'd you know it was my dad?"

"I saw his name flash—Dad," she giggled.

"Oh . . . hello?" He was talking to me again.

"Bring her by the house this Sunday." I nodded. "Let Mom meet your new boo-boo."

"Um . . ." He was stuck, that much was apparent. "We're not—it's not—uh...She doesn't know." He practically breathed that last part, which led me to believe he was keeping us—his family—away for a reason, a secret.

"No worries. Bring her by when you're ready. I spoke to Luke earlier." Needless to say, my fuckery aside, I was giving Dame a nine—give him back his heat—at least until Luke cools down. "I want you at the house on Sunday. Whether you bring Shorty or not, that's up to youse."

"What'd, um, he say?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," I lied for the time being. "I'm going to say this, only this . . . I want you to stay low-key."

He didn't have a comment, likely just listening.

"I have nothing to fear unless shit comes back to haunt you. He might seek you out, since . . . Just watch your back. Cool? If I find out you're doing this or that, I'll have someone tail you."

Did I honestly think Luke was going to do something? No, I didn't. But having Dame stay under the radar keeps him out of trouble—from Luke and, God forbid, the Feds.

"I understand," he said. "I'm not about to live in fear, though. I make no apologies for how shit went down. And if Luke needs me to set him straight, then so fucking be it."

I nodded, fucking beaming. "Bet . . . Love you. Get some studying done. Not just anatomy."

"Love you, too." He chuckled, ending the call.

Damion being in a good mood, lighthearted, made me feel all warm gooey inside, like a Toll House cookie.

Still smiling, I went to dial Bella, but then Aro came in flanked by Nunzio and Sonny. "Where's C?"

"He's getting a drink."

I nodded, sitting back and waiting for the three to have a seat. The current setting wasn't lost on Nunzio, who sat on one ass cheek, giving me this pitiful gaze. His eyes said a lot; they said he had something to fear.

"Undress," I said, needing to make sure this wasn't a broadcast.

"Come on." He showed me his palms.

"Easy way or hard way." I shook my head.

Nunzio looked put out, but he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled down his pants.

"Search him," I told Sonny.

When my son was done frisking him, Nunzio put his clothes back on. The lucky fucker was clean, so maybe he didn't know all of Caius's secrets.

"Break it down for me—the Fugiani hit." I spoke of Joe's family.

He widened his eyes, puffing his cheeks to let go of a breath. "C-bag paid off some Spanish kids. It was a carjacking gone bad, and then they lit it up. You know. They had no living relatives to identify . . . none of us got involved. They're probably cremated or in Potter's Field."

I nodded him along. "What happened to those kids?"

"Anton, C-bag, and I . . . we rolled up to their 'hood to drop off the other half. And before we paid them," he laughed, "we capped both of them. We didn't even bother cleaning a thing. Neither one of us heard shit about it." He shrugged.

I hummed, feigning nonchalance as I sent Sonny a text message, telling him to leave and find Bianca—Nunzio's daughter. He knew not to do anything—just stand by—but I needed insurance.

"Oh, I have to go. It's the missus…" Sonny showed me his cell phone.

I waved, biding him farewell. "How's Bianca?" I asked Nunzio. "She like living in Brooklyn now?"

"Skip…"

"Just tell me. It's polite conversation." I smiled, looking down to text Sonny again. He was to drop that money off with Bella.

"She's—she recently got a job with a realty company on 85th Street." He seemed uncomfortable, which was expected.

"Leave us for a second." I looked to Aro and my brother, who weren't contributing to the conversation anyway.

As they left, I rose from the chair to walk around the desk. "You sure? That's all that happened?"

"Skip, about Joe Jr., you have my discretion—your son has my discretion just as, as—I spoke to Bianca. She never saw a thing."

"So you've said." I nodded; we'd had this conversation before. "But you see my predicament? I just found out that your boy, C-bag, was ratting to the Feds. Can I trust you? Well, I thought I could, but now I'm not so sure. What would you do…? If you were me, and someone might know something about your child . . ." I trailed off, toying with a letter opener.

He slid himself and the chair back slightly, and I followed his gaze with my own.

"Hmm?" I asked.

"I took an oath," he said.

"Eh . . . these days." I shrugged. "What does it mean? Not a fucking thing since all you pussies can't do a fucking bid!"

"I'd die before I'd—"

I waved a hand, as all the dramatics weren't necessary. "I have ways . . . You know I have connections. If I find out—"

"You won't 'cause I'm not." He rushed out.

Meanwhile, at this point, I couldn't afford to lose another big earner. I couldn't afford to have another body slain in the street, or another fucker gone missing. But Nunzio doesn't know that. So, while my threats were only half-empty, he was going to heed my warning.

Plus, I hadn't done anything yet and he was already scared shitless. That was when I knew . . . Despite taking a back seat, regardless of slowing down, I still had their fear, their respect.

"One step outta line—" I shook my head, placing the letter opener to his throat "—I'll gut you and your daughter like fish!" I ran the blade along his neck, swiftly and smoothly, making him jump and cry out. But I never broke the skin.

"Skip, I-I—"

"You…can leave." I backed off, leaning my ass against the desk again.

Nunzio scrambled to his feet to get out of the office. And it was all a little disheartening, while it also squelched my fears. I still had Nunzio's word. He wasn't doing anything behind my back, only following what his superior—Caius—told him. It was sad because the poor fucker practically crumbled in fear before me.

I could either take that as a compliment—since I know he truly has balls of steel—or worry that he's gone a bit soft.

Alone again, I sighed and sent Sonny another text message. This time, I told him to abandon his plans—forget about Bianca—drop my cash off to his mother and then take the night off.

He'd earned that much . . . saving me a huge-fucking-headache in the future.

As for this dump—which is what it was nowadays—I thought about placing it on the market. They could make it a parking lot for all I cared. It couldn't stand on its own. Caius kept it open as a front for all these years—that much was apparent now. The drinks are watery, the talent isn't what it used to be, and . . . I think Caius just stopped caring.

Again, I'd always gotten paid, so I wasn't looking into it that much, nor did I chill here anymore.

Fuck. Maybe Jasper could turn it around. Maybe Sonny can, but I had no interest in it at all.

By the time Aro came by to seek me out again, I was ready to leave.

"Sonny's not coming back," I said. "I can stay and close, or—"

"I got it." Aro patted my shoulder. "You have enough worries."

I nodded, reaching for my waist. Aro actually flinched, like I was going to shoot his ass or something. But I took out a wad of cash, likely ten Gs easily. "Thank you."

He looked relieved, taking the money. "Thank you."

I laughed, leaving the office.

"Skip!"

I turned back to my friend.

"I'mma close at like one. Cool?"

I nodded, going to meet up with Carlisle. He stood near the back, where his car probably was. "Dad, I told you . . . Look, I can find you a great place. No, that's not what I'm saying." He was on his cell.

"What's that old fuck bitching about now?" I asked.

Carlisle turned to me. "He said, 'shut the fuck up'."

"Oh!" I grabbed for the phone. "Wait, old man!"

My father was still shouting into the phone when Carlisle hung up on him. "He doesn't want to stay at my house. He doesn't believe me. Your place is quieter."

I nodded. "He's got cabin fever, but he's planning this big night out—wants me to throw him a party at Eclipse."

"Yeah, Sonny said it's all set for next Saturday," he laughed.

"Drive me home?"

"To the corner. No need for Dad to chase me down the block." We were both in hysterics as we went out the back exit. Carlisle's whip was parked in the alley, and he took off fast. "I'm glad this isn't a late night."

I didn't have much to say, finally able to relax in the car. "Saturday night, we'll have Dad's party. But before that, I want a big dinner—no beef." I briefly glanced at him.

"Hey, Dame came over on New Year's Eve. There were no problems."

"Exactly," I said. "He's coming next Saturday, too, I think. Whether he wants to or not. He hasn't seen much of Dad because . . . I mean, he's busy with school." A part of me didn't even want to force Damion to come to Eclipse. Maybe the farther he stayed away the better, especially since he's doing so well—being so far removed from it all.

Carlisle didn't reply.

"Then, that week, I want you to take both Kylie and Dad. A vacation does sound nice. Maybe Kylie will want to stay with Sonny. Either way—"

"I get it. You deserve time away."

"Cool." I grinned, content to sit back while he drove.

It's true. Once the thought entered my mind, I couldn't shake it. Bella and me leaving the winter behind, leaving everything behind, going someplace warm—just the two of us.

But then another sneaky thought came to mind. "Before I go anywhere, I wanna know where Heidi is."

"I told you. I'll do my best."

"No, do it."

"Okay," he agreed.

/=/=/=/=/

To my surprise, Maggie and Sonny were still at my crib when I arrived. My father was nowhere to be found. But Bella, Kylie, and the rest were in the kitchen.

"Hello, wife." I kissed those lips, wanting a lot more, but restraining myself.

She turned up to smile, Uno cards in her hands. The three females were playing while Sonny stuffed his face with food, sitting on the counter.

"Daughter." I kissed Kylie's hair. "Maggie-Mags." I squeezed her shoulder, making her giggle. "Where's my money?" I looked to my son.

"The garage—still in my car."

"Go get it." I jerked a thumb.

He hopped off the counter, went to walk out of the kitchen, but then he turned back for his plate of linguini—by the smell of it—with clam sauce. "Think I don't know..." He guarded that shit.

Sonny was right; I'd planned to hijack his meal.

"I'll heat you up a plate." Maggie offered.

"Thanks." I sat at the head of the table, watching Kylie throw down a Draw Four before Bella slapped another.

"Draw Eight!" Kylie shouted to her friend.

"Shhh." Bella scolded. "Grandpa's sleeping."

"No, he's not," Maggie said.

"Where'd he go?" Bella and Kylie asked in unison.

Maggie shrugged. "He left with Vito when Santino arrived."

I laughed but was quick to compose myself when Kylie's large, worried eyes met my own. "Don't worry. Vito will look after him." He was probably on his way to get a blow job or something—knowing him—and he'll be a sport, buy Vito one, too.

"Screw this, then." Kylie tossed her hand away. "Let's do something. Who wants to do shots?"

Maggie and Bella were quiet, and so was I.

"No one? You guys are no fun."

"I have school tomorrow," Maggie said, taking my dish out of the microwave.

"Thank you."

"I just…" Bella looked from me to our daughter. "I'm exhausted."

"From what?" I was curious.

"You act like I do nothing all day—"

"No fighting...Daddy?" Kylie got in my face.

I twirled the pasta around my fork, scooping it up with my spoon. "It's late. When Sonny comes back up, he's leaving. Your mother and I will be going to bed shortly."

"No, you're not. You're home early!" Kylie gave me some look. "That means—"

"Go to your room." I pointed my fork.

She folded her arms across her chest.

"Kylie, don't upset your father . . . Please." Bella did sound tired, which made me wonder what she'd done today. I'd had a full day and left extremely early. My wife had still been sleeping. "I'll be back…I have clothes in the washer," she told me.

I squeezed her hand as she passed me. When she was gone, I reached for my waist again. "Here's a hundred bucks." I slapped it into my daughter's hand. "Go to bed."

She grinned. "My daddy…" Kylie opened her arms to hug me.

"That's all you're getting," I said with a mouth full of food.

Kylie pouted but then left the kitchen with Maggie following her.

I managed to eat most of my plate before Sonny arrived with my money, his mother hot on his heels. "How much is all that?" Bella had bug eyes, looking awake now.

I chuckled. "I haven't counted it yet."

The garbage bag was full of money as was the pail and another shopping bag . . . Sonny didn't dump it onto the table. All I planned to do tonight was leave it in my office and lock that door.

"Where did it come from?" Bella asked.

"Just a big payday." I scooped more food into my mouth. "I won it."

Bella rolled her eyes.

"Maggie with Kylie?" My son was rubbing his hands together, likely thrilled at the prospect of being home—with his wife—before midnight.

And Christ, I knew that feeling all too well.

"Yeah…I'll see you tomorrow." I gave him a fist pound before he kissed his mother goodnight.

In a matter of minutes, my son left with his bride and Kylie was in her bedroom. It was quiet, and I was able to finish my meal in peace. Bella was fast to rinse the dish, but I caught up to her at the sink.

"Leave it," I whispered, nuzzling my nose to her ear.

She smiled, leaning back against me. "What do you have in mind?"

"Help me put the money in my office?" I was joking but my wife turned to slap my arm. "I'm kidding."

Bella furrowed her brow. "Where'd it come from?"

"I found C-bag's hiding spot." I swayed us, stealing another kiss. "And to celebrate, we're going on vacation. I don't know when or where exactly. There's shit I gotta take care of first."

"Why?" My wife sounded wary.

"It's just business stuff."

"No, why are we leaving?" Her nails dug into my bicep, tears welling in her eyes. "What happened yesterday, for real?"

"Nothing." I smiled, giving her an Eskimo kiss. "I told you. I wasn't arrested or anything. They asked some questions."

"I was so relieved—Kylie was at the salon. We haven't spoken about it. All day…Edward, all day, and all last night, I was—" She started sobbing.

"Shhh." I placed my lips to hers. "Nothing's wrong. Okay? I wanna go on vacation 'cause we both need one."

She shook her head, wiping her eyes. "We can't. What if we leave and they decide they need to ask Sonny something? We can't—"

"Bella." I palmed her cheeks. "Listen to me. Do you think I'd leave if Sonny was in hot water? No fucking way. I'd never. You know that."

She sniffled, nodding slowly.

"Sorry for that remark before." I bit her nose.

"Oh, garlic clam breath." She swatted me away.

"You love it." I bit my lip, getting two handfuls of ass. "Can we go to bed?"

"Then there's Kylie. Since Peto left, she's back to being mopey and sad . . . I don't feel right leaving her either."

I groaned, leaning away. "We need this—you and me. We need a vacation. Just us, just us chillin' by a pool or on some beach. They'd be able to contact us, and we'd be on the first flight home from wherever. Okay? Aro and Sonny can take care of business—both outside and in."

"Our plates are always so full. A couple of days somewhere close is cool, but actually going away?" She winced. "I'm surprised you're so cool with it…just leaving everything."

I shrugged. "I want time away, so I can devote every minute to you." I fucking meant that shit, wholeheartedly, and Bella giggled. "I'm serious."

"I know," she sighed. "We just haven't…focused on each other, really and truly, for a while."

"That's exactly my point." I nodded. "And we'll talk. Being away . . . it'll give me the opportunity to . . . safely elaborate."

"I knew it."

"Nothing's wrong." I never knew taking my wife on vacation could be this difficult. "We don't have to be away a whole week, although I was hoping for two."

"Two whole weeks?" she laughed. "Edward." Bella grabbed a dishrag to wipe down the counter. "Seriously?"

I tore the washcloth out of her hand and made her face me. "We're leaving. And we'll be back whenever-the-fuck. Understand?" Sometimes my wife—like my business associates—only listens to commands and/or demands. "All three of our children are adults . . . Damion looks out for himself nowadays. I have no reason to worry. He's doing well—however, whatever he's doing. Sonny? Sonny looks out for Maggie and vice versa. Also, Aro and Carlisle have Sonny's back, no matter what. And everybody looks out for Kylie. Come on, baby." I swayed her from side to side.

She smiled. "You're right. But who are we going to leave here? Your father? He'll sleep with hookers in our bed—God knows what. I'd sooner let Kylie throw a keg party. Your father is like . . . Ted, the bear from that old movie?"

I threw my head back and laughed. "No one will stay here. We'll lock it up like Fort Knox, have Vito or Sal keep an eye on it. We'll have it swept when we come back. It's business as usual. My dad can stay in a hotel."

"Okay." She nodded. "We're doing this!" She took it so seriously. Then again, sharing her life with me has groomed her to take everything seriously. Well, Bella's still a goofball at heart. Lately, she's had a lot on her mind.

We all have, which was why going away is coming as a godsend. I know that once Bella is relaxed and having a good time, staying out of Dodge an extra week won't be that big a deal.

She'll see . . .

"We'll go anywhere you want." I kissed those happy lips.

"Anywhere?"

"No Harry Potter whatever." I waved a finger.

"Don't be silly . . . Besides, the girls and I were planning on Orlando for Spring break. We'll stay at a Disney resort." She nodded. "Maybe Damion will come, too. It'll be big, like the vacations we used to take as a group? I mean, we actually have a group again. Our family has grown."

I smiled, nodding. "That sounds nice."

Suddenly she frowned, turning back to me. "What did Luke say? Elena won't answer my calls…"

"Stop calling her. You owe Elena nothing." I wiped my hands clean. "In fact, I don't want you talking to her at all."

"But how'd it go?"

"Fine," I said.

"Really?" She wore a hint of a smile. "There's no—"

"Really," I sighed, taking off my jacket.

"But why can't I talk to—"

"Can we go to bed?" I gathered as much shit as I could, hoping Bella would get the rest as we walked down the hall.

Once she plopped the grocery bag of money on my desk, she left, saying she was shutting off the lights. I followed after, locking the door, making sure all the doors and windows were locked—making my usual nightly rounds.

I set the phony alarm, too, to be a fuck—just in case Dad came back here.

He wants to sneak out, he can stay at a hotel or at Vito's, or shit his pants when the alarm sounds.

It was almost midnight by the time Bella and I got into bed. I was exhausted and so was she.

"Where did you wanna go? You hate long plane rides." She snuggled into my side.

"Wherever you wanna go." I kissed her cheek, inhaling her. "The past few months have been rough. I wanna go someplace we can relax." A groan escaped me as I ran my hands down her body.

Ever since she brought up my lack of eating pussy, I've been doing a lot more of it. Sadly, I haven't received more blow jobs. I'm not complaining. After I eat it, I hit it, and then we're both happy. But tonight . . . I wanted sleep, or to have my wife.

Last night, when I got home from being questioned, we had some crazy sex. Yet, we didn't speak at all about what went down—we spoke of nothing F.B.I. or business-related. We hit the sheets, and then we danced under them.

No, tonight . . . Tonight I was content to hold my wife, relax within her embrace. Thank God for luck—for being so lucky these past few years. Thank someone for me being able to keep Bella, my children, and my business going for as long as I have.

"I love you." Bella's voice was filled with emotion.

When I nudged her cheek with my nose, I knew my eyes were likely glassy as well. "More than . . . you know." I smirked against her lips.

"Say it," she whispered.

"More than there are stars in the sky." I rubbed her cheek with my knuckles. "You're beautiful." After all these years, her beauty astounds me. Now that shit is something to be grateful for: a wife—a gorgeous, knockout of a wife—I can't keep my hands off of. I never said I was Don-Fucking-Juan or Romeo, spewing lines and all that sappy shit.

But I do well . . . Edward Cullen holds his own.

"More than anything," she replied, kissing me deeply.

My wife became overzealous, and we made love . . .

I was able to hit it before I'd licked it.

No matter, she lost herself on my cock and came mad fucking hard.

When we were spent, both of us staring up to the ceiling, I knew I was going to be a hundred dollars poorer in the morning.

Our daughter likely heard us, and she was never going to let me forget it.

A vacation never sounded so fucking good . . .

Thank you for reading.

Please leave me your thoughts.

The mighty will fall.
The strong will break.
The courageous will cower.
The proud will die.

All will succumb to the power of love.

The mighty will fall with or without love, but with love they will have the strength to climb higher.

The strong will break with or without love, but with love they will have the courage to rebuild themselves.

The courageous will cower with or without love, but with love they will proudly face their fears.

The proud will die with or without love, but with love they will have a reason to live.

- Unknown

That has nothing to do with anything...just something I saw on the net, and if you smart mofos know who wrote it, enlighten me. Thanks!