..::.. Chapter 48 - Manila ..::..

I look into Mr. Biers' eyes and I'm not quite sure Riley's severed head was a scenario. When Biers sees me walk in behind Edward, his face is ashen. He's standing behind his mahogany desk. Maybe on another day he looks like the boss—today he's a Cullen employee with trouble in his eyes. Edward moves to his desk and sits behind it. The older man is left standing in the middle of his office, speechless.

"Mr. Biers, pleasure to see you again," I say, standing at the door. I didn't realize I'd immediately see him. I know this man. I've been to his home for the holidays and … even an engagement dinner I wasn't aware was an engagement dinner. The last time I saw him was the night Riley hit me.

No warm memories here.

"Bella," he utters, looking from me to Edward. He's … confused.

"Ms. Swan, Stephen. Don't be rude," Edward corrects, as he crosses his leg over the other getting comfortable in his upholstered chair.

The older man corrects his spine and goes to grab a crystal glass, pouring a few fingers high from a decanter. Edward extends his hand, fingers wiggling. Stephen hesitates, but passes the glass, moving to make his own. His blush is plainly visible.

He gestures to me. "I would offer you one, but I know you're not privy," he says to me. Well, he remembers.

"Thank you. I'm fine." I sit in a leather chair facing Edward—who is now flipping through ledgers on Stephen's desk like they're his. I can't help but shake my head.

"To what do I owe this … unexpected visit?" Stephen sips. His eyes to the large windows.

"This, precisely." Edward points a finger on a page. "It seems we weren't so unexpected."

The older man freezes over, but he turns. "Right. I was just looking over the files last week."

"Calculating how much you owe us?" Edward asks.

Stephen sighs slightly. "How much my son owes, yes."

"Yes. Owed." Edward corrects the past tense. I wince. My head feels light and dizzy.

"I tell you what. Ms. Swan here can help you figure out the numbers and I'll give you an extension, no extra interest, since … the debt was partially paid." He means Riley's death. Stephen is even more confused. "She's our new executive and will be managing this account."

Stephen looks at me. I stare back.

"That is preposterous."

It is, but I don't say. "Nonsense," Edward corrects. "Who else but your future daughter in law to help?" There's silence. "Whoops," he adds, humorously.

I glare at Edward.

Mr. Biers keeps his gaze pinned to the window. "I … don't have all the information I need. I don't have the full picture. This was my son's business."

"Worry not," Edward says standing. "Ms. Swan here will iron things out. She'll expect all the paperwork to get acquainted. Please do so by lunch." He walks out without another word.

I'm left here lingering in this dense awkwardness. I stand to leave.

"I don't know how you've become involved, Bella, but this is not a life for you. I know that Riley wasn't good to you, but this is worse. Whatever you do, save yourself." He plops himself on his chair without a look.

I blink in disbelief. This man never showed interest in me, let alone a care to warn. I say nothing because there is nothing to say. If only he knew I've been involved before he or his son ever was.

I just don't know how I'll end it. I'm losing focus.

…

By noon exactly, I get the paperwork couriered to me. Which is insane since we're in the car and at a stop light. The driver rolled down the window and was handed over a folder, which was handed over to me. The biker rode off for his next drop off. Stunned, I cradled the manila folder on my lap.

"Have fun," Edward said. No words of encouragement or of delight, but sarcasm per my insistence in all of this. Touché. I felt the folder heavy. It weighed a ton with its impending outcome over this decision. A failure, or a promise.

The day went by slowly after that. Visits to different locations, all of them disorienting as they were random. One in a factory, the other at a bank I wasn't allowed to enter. I was dropped off at home with no additional touches or attention from Edward. I was glad. I didn't sleep, tearing into the folder brought to me.

It's simple, yet not. Riley Briers was the manager of the neighborhood "tax" collection. It's embarrassing, really. His duties were less than impressive and yet he managed to fuck that up. He died over it. But, I have them; lists of businesses who were bullied to give and how much a year. The amounts are astronomical when they add up. At the end of it, my hands trembled, thinking of all the heartache this caused regular working people.

No wonder Edward took me on the run around the city collecting paper bags. Riley's team did just that, then he'd collect and launder it all through Stephen, his father. Well, not all. He stole a lot of it seeing the proof in Stephen's ledgers.

I look at my phone and I wonder if Stephen is a victim just as much as these business owners.

I wrack my brain remembering that house number. It takes some tries but Stephen finally picks up his landline.

"We need to talk," is the first thing I say. He's stunned into silence on the other end.

…