I bet you guys weren't expecting to see me so soon ;) But good news, I've got another chapter for you!
BIG DISCLAIMER: THIS HAS NOT GONE THROUGH BETA YET.
My fabulous Beta reader is unavailable for a few weeks, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting. I will update with her edits once she's able to make them. So please be kind and understand that I usually have one more round of editing before I put my work out there.
This chapter picks up where chapter 19 left off, and I think I posted that in July, so below are a couple of excerpts from that chapter as a refresher.
Enjoy!
oOo
Excerpt one:
Bella sighs and disappears into the walk-in closet poised across from mine. Hoping to get a glimpse of her naked form as she changes, I slip my boxers up my hips and walk over, perching against the door frame.
But the image that meets me causes an ache in my gut. Bella crouches over the damn duffle bag she's been using to bring clothes back and forth between her apartment and my penthouse. No matter how often I've told her this closet is hers, that she can keep anything she wants here, she won't unpack.
"I've got to go home tomorrow morning," she says, pulling panties and silky sleep shorts from her bag. "I have an early shift at the diner."
"Bella." Groaning, I rake my palm over my face. "We've talked about this."
"I can't quit my jobs, Edward."
"Why?" My question is brash—my frustration showing through.
I can't understand Bella's determination to drive herself into the ground. I've offered her the world. Money for rent, a car—hell, I'm feeding her most of her meals, yet she refuses to accept my generosity. Is my support not good enough for her? Is she waiting for a better man to come and save her from my wretched grasp?
She stands and fidgets, bunching her clothes in her fists. "I just… can't."
Gripping the doorframe hard, I turn my back to her and push away. Rejection courses through my veins as my anger grows. I need to hit something, break a nose, knock out a tooth.
I need to hold her and never let go.
"Edward, please." She's dressed when she appears back in the bedroom, although her sleep set leaves little covered. "I have to stand on my own. I have to know that I can."
Ignoring her, I return to the chaise, lifting and stepping into my slacks. "I have work to do downstairs." My gun waits in my dresser drawer. Bella's eyes divert when I place it in my waistband.
"You're leaving." In my periphery, I see her expression fall. It's not often I leave her to sleep alone, and the decision guts me, but I know I'm too volatile to stay.
"I'll see you tomorrow." Once I button my shirt and slip my jacket over my arms, I lay a short kiss on her temple. Cufflinks in hand, I exit the room without a second glance.
Excerpt two:
"There's a body," Emmett answers simply.
I can't elaborate. I don't understand. I was in that security room most of the night. No one noticed a thing. We have every inch of the property covered. How could a body wind up in our alley without our knowledge?
We're outside in minutes, the putrid air smelling of hot garbage, forcing us to breathe through our mouths.
"She was over here," Emmett turns right, the rest of us following cautiously, guns drawn.
We take cover behind a tall dumpster, lining up, ready to fight. Emmett goes first, followed by Stefan, then me.
Eyes fixed on the sights of my Smith and Wesson, I sweep my arms across the open space where no enemy waits to attack.
"Oh, shit." It's Ben's curse that has my weapon falling to my side and my focus turning to the frail body stretched across the filthy floor.
She's far too young for the tight dress and glitter-covered heels she wears. Thick makeup cakes her bruised face. It doesn't hide the dark patch of pooled blood under the skin of her jaw or the split above her eyebrow that drips crimson onto the concrete.
"Her arm's broken," Stefan says, crouched over her form.
Never has violence made me sick, but this child, beaten and abused, has my stomach rolling. "Is she dead?" I replace my gun and hover over the body.
"Her pulse is weak, but she's alive," Emmett says, holding her uninjured arm and pressing two fingers against her wrist.
My jaw ticks, and my fury grows before I bark orders. "Get her upstairs into a suite, now. Block the hallways and use the staff elevators. No one can see her."
Let's continue...
EPOV
"Mr. Cullen, there's been a security breach at the entrance of your garage." A Masoni associate stands in the doorway of my father's office. I pick up on his nerves only in the way his voice cracks. His concerned stare holds mine as the gravity of what he said sinks in.
"Fuck." I'm up in an instant, digging my phone from my pocket. I have three missed calls from my valet and multiple from my security team. "What the hell happened?"
"I'm sorry, sir. All I know is that men in a blue sedan chased one of your cars to the garage." His face is set in a grim line as I unlock my phone and call my valet.
One of my cars?
Who the hell was driving one of my cars?
"Mr. Cullen," Paul, my valet, a man with many years of service to the Masoni's, answers after the first ring. "Sir, there's an issue I had to handle."
I drag my fingers through my hair, demanding he continue.
"Miss Swan took her Audi for the first time this morning." My brows rise. Bella finally gave in and accepted my gift. "She was gone for just over an hour before she came racing into the garage with someone in pursuit of her."
With a sharp intake of breath, my blood runs cold. "Who the fuck was chasing her?" I ask, although I already know.
"I'm unfamiliar with the car, and it's difficult to make out the men inside on the security footage. I have asked the tech team to send you the video. Perhaps you will recognize them."
Thanking him, I end the call and raise a finger to my father, who raptly listens to my conversation. At the top of my emails, I open a message with a video file attached. The nondescript sedan gives little information, but as it reverses and turns from the closed gate, I catch a glimpse of the man in the passenger seat.
Vladimir Petrov.
"Mother fucker!" Pacing in front of my father's desk, I mutter under my breath, cursing the son of a bitch.
My father watches with raised brows, waiting for my tantrum to settle. "Edward?"
I clench my hands into fists as my eyes close. "Vladimir went after Bella. He chased her back to my garage, but she made it inside just fast enough to escape."
"Shit," Emmett hisses, eyes widening.
"Unacceptable." My father's palm slaps against the desktop, his ire growing. "Jasper, get word to every Masoni associate. Vladimir Petrov is to be captured at first sight. A hefty bonus goes to whoever finds him."
I'm not listening as my fingers scroll my contacts. Bella's number quickly appears on my recent log, and I push call. My jaw clenches tight as I wait through four rings before it goes to voicemail. "God damnit." I try again with the same result. "I can't get a hold of her."
"Edward, I'm sure she's safe in the hotel," Jasper says. His calm demeanor balances my panic. "Felix is overseeing security. I'll ask him to check on her." Jasper begins texting before he finishes his sentence.
"So what now?" Emmett perches on the seat of his chair, eyes gleaming with nervous excitement.
"We haven't had a war since the eighties." My father leans back, swiveling his chair to the side. "But it seems we have no choice."
"The Petrovs already started one." I return to my seat, fuming.
Jasper's phone buzzes with a message. "Felix says she's in the penthouse."
Slightly relieved, I mutter my approval.
"We need to get the Petrovs alone, on our terms," I muse aloud. "Somewhere out of the public eye."
"They won't meet us anywhere they feel is a threat," my father says, his tongue clicking at the roof of his mouth as he considers our options. "I have a thought."
I wave my hands for him to continue, eager to hear his proposal.
"Pharo's Temple."
I huff. The thought of willingly opening my developing property to the enemy is less than ideal, but it would give us an advantage. "We know the layout, they don't."
"Exactly."
"Jasper, get Vladimir Petrov on the phone," I demand, taking charge of the plan.
Jasper quickly places the call, sets his phone to speaker, and sets it on the desktop.
"I was wondering when I would hear from the Masoni family." A voice with a thick Russian accent answers after the third ring. "Although I expected a call from the boss, not his advisor."
"And you got one, Vladimir." My tone is cold as ice, and my muscles are tense, ready to fight.
"Ah, Edward," he chuckles. My father's eyes meet mine, his expression dark. Vladimir continues with amusement lacing his words, "Perhaps my message to your showgirl got to you? She's beautiful. Such a lucky man you are."
"She's not part of this," I snap, my palm slapping against the hardwood of my father's desk.
Vladimir laughs. The idea of a bullet slicing through his brain becomes extraordinarily appealing. "Ah, but she does. See, my friend, you don't listen."
"I want to meet," I say through gritted teeth, pulling him away from the subject of Bella. "I want to discuss terms. Maybe we can find a way to work with each other."
Emmett's eyes flash to mine in question, and I raise a palm. I know what I'm doing.
"I always said you were sensible," Vladimir answers. "I don't want to cause trouble in your casinos, Cullen. But Las Vegas is good business. We will do our work here regardless of your wishes."
"I have a new hotel," I say. "It's in the early stages of construction and empty at night." My father nods his approval. "We can meet there. Tomorrow. Eleven P.M."
Vladimir snorts and says something in Russian before addressing my proposal. "What assurance do I have that you will not ambush me and my men? It is your property."
"There's construction going on all day long," I counter. I'll have no time to set up an ambush. Besides, I want to work out an agreement. How would an ambush benefit me? I doubt your father in Russia would look favorably on an attack. I don't want a war."
He blows out a breath, thoughtful for a long moment before answering. "I will bring my crew along."
"I would expect nothing less."
"Then it is set. Tomorrow night. Eleven p.m."
"Then it's set." My lips curl at the side as I plan an offensive attack.
The phone call ends without farewells. Neither of us cares to give into pleasantries.
"Alright, Edward," My Father says. "What's the plan."
"Tomorrow night…" I grin. "Vladimir Petrov dies."
oOo
True to my word, I assemble a team of only my closest men, my brother, Felix, Stefan, and my father— who I can not talk out of reliving his glory days. Jasper is set to take charge of the tech aspect, watching our meeting from a hidden corner and feeding information into earpieces as we go. My father and I alert our soldiers, telling them they must stay close to La Bellissima and the new build tomorrow night and be ready to fight at our signal. I spend the day deep inside La Bellissima's underground recesses, reviewing our game plan and assembling weapons. We decide that Jasper will visit Pharo's Temple as construction wraps tomorrow and set extra artillery around the site. As my preparation for battle continues, my confidence grows.
Around three in the afternoon, I get word that the unconscious girl we found by the dumpsters is awake and talking. She's weak and dealing with excruciating pain, but Doctor Jenks has yet to leave her side and quickly administers pain medication. He casts her arm but is adamant she needs a hospital to check her orbital bone and jaw for further fractures. I need her story first.
After Ben successfully interrogates the girl at my father's casino, I dispatch him to the suit on our twenty-fourth floor. I am pleased when he returns to the basement and provides valuable information.
"The girl was kept in a small house East of the city," Ben tells me. "She says there's at least ten more, all underage."
"Russian?" I ask, searching for a box of bullets in my armory.
"A mix. A couple of Americans, one from Mexico. She's vague on the rest. The injuries and medication have her dazed."
"Tell Jenks to get her whatever care she needs," I dismiss him. "I'll cover the bill."
"Yes, sir," Ben nods, turning to rush back upstairs.
"Hey, Ben." I find the box I'm looking for and begin loading my rifle. "Good job."
He grins wide before schooling his features and clearing his throat. "Thanks, boss."
I chuckle as he runs off with a new sense of pride, holding his head high. He's a good soldier. For once, Emmett was right.
I'm notified about Bella's departure from the penthouse to the theater right before dinner appears. Ravenous, I grab a slice of margarita pizza and set an alarm for ten-thirty. I don't know how late my battle preparation will run, and I need to see her before the night ends. When I checked in on her early in the afternoon, she was fast asleep, curled under the covers in the middle of my bed. With a gentle kiss, I left her be, placing a note on the nightstand, letting her know I'd be downstairs if she needed me.
"We'll arrive at Pharo's Temple first, around ten, to be safe," I tell the men gathered around our makeshift dinner table. The wooden slab is meant for weapon prep. "I want us to take up a clear view of the front entrance, but we need to be able to find cover quickly if needed."
"What if we wait near the check-in desks?" Emmett asks, not bothering to swallow his fettuccine first. I scrunch my face in disgust and shake my head.
"They're not close enough. The floorplan design has patrons walk through the casino as soon as they enter."
"Some of the gaming tables arrived yesterday," Jasper says. "We can set them up behind you. They're not ideal cover, but you can flip them and crouch behind in a pinch."
My father grumbles his agreement as I sip on a large Americano. As my adrenaline wanes, my lack of sleep catches up with me. "I'm on board with that. Felix and Stefan, you'll flank us. There are pillars to the right and left that you can use. That will give us an advantage if we have every angle covered."
"Do we know how many men Vladimir has with him?" Felix asks.
"All our intel says he's got a team of six with him." Jasper clicks the keyboard of his laptop and turns the monitor towards us, displaying surveillance photos of the men in Vladimir's crew. "Most of them are known Bratva, but these two…" He scrolls and points to a picture taken on the strip in front of the Twilight Hotel and Casino. "Are new to us. They're young and inexperienced. They are his weak links."
"He's going to have to leave a few men behind to watch over the girls he has in captivity," I remind everyone. "We may outnumber them, but he'll bring his best fighters. We can't underestimate."
I stifle a yawn and reach for my coffee.
"I'll get a map of the stashed weapons to all of you tomorrow afternoon," Jasper says. "I'll do my best to hide them in beneficial places."
"Just don't make them obvious," I remind him. He gives me an "I'm not stupid" look that I'd probably smack off anyone else's face.
My yawn breaks free.
"Edward, go get some sleep," my father chastises me. "You'll be no good to us if you're exhausted."
"Yeah, Ed. I think we've covered everything." Emmett stands, lifting his empty plate of pasta. "We can finish the prep. It won't take much longer."
I acquiesce, picking up my coffee and lifting it toward the group. "Good night. I'll see you all in the morning."
A round of "good night, Edward" and one "Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite" from Emmett follow me into the concrete corridor.
I chug the remainder of my Americano as I wait for the elevator, then spend the ride to my security hub rubbing my exhausted eyes. A few men greet me as I exit the elevator bank, and I nod in return. My night shift team has clocked in, and I'm sure they're all wondering if they're stuck with my brooding ass tonight. Lucky for them, I've put in enough work today.
Tossing my cup in a trash can, I enter the casino. The ringing of slot machines and groans from a nearby roulette table set the soundtrack. Despite my fatigue, I'm jittery with anticipation combined with caffeine.
I'm at a point of delirium in which I know I need to settle down before I can sleep. As I check my watch, my feet lead me to a far corner where sets of double doors are just starting to close.
Calling out, I wave toward an usher, halting him. I slip inside the theater lobby and hand a fifty over, thanking the young man for waiting. He smiles and says, "Any time, sir."
My regular table isn't reserved for me tonight; instead, a high roller occupies it with his wife and teenage kids—a perk for spending too much at the poker tables.
A couple of seats are open in the back row, so I take one and settle in just as the lights dim.
The curtains rise after a few seconds of darkness, and a golden hue washes over the stage. Girls in sequined costumes and feathery angel wings saunter across. Despite the number of times I've watched her, my pulse accelerates when Bella enters with a glowing smile illuminating her face.
God, she's gorgeous.
As numbers pass, I lose myself in the music and glamour. Bella hypnotizes me with her movements. Awakening urges that I'm too exhausted to act upon.
Soon enough, the singer croons his final notes, and the audience gives a standing ovation. I clap along with them as I discreetly sneak toward the exit, slipping out before the crowd spots me.
All I want is to find Bella and fall into bed. My nervous energy from earlier has subsided, and it's become a struggle to keep my eyes open. I make my way into the back hallways of my hotel, ready to collect my woman and end the night.
The walk to the dancer's dressing room is short, so I prop myself against a wall to wait while the girls change. Just as my head lulls to the side and my eyelids drop, the door swings open, bringing with it excited chatter and sneakers squeaking against the polished floor.
"Oh! Mr. Cullen!" A girl I recognize from when Bella and I were caught after our recent tryst grins and giggles, batting her fake lashes. "I didn't expect to see you here. God, I must look like such a mess." She smooths a hand against her ponytail, combing her fingers through the curls. I don't have the energy for this.
Struggling to remain polite, I nod in greeting before my attention shifts to the beauty rolling her eyes over the girl's shoulder.
"Enough, Jess. Go home." Bella nudges her friend to get her moving, earning a scowl from "Jess."
Unable to keep from touching her, I hold my arm out, encouraging Bella to squeeze into my side. Her cheeks tinge pink, but she accepts my invitation. As she curls into me, her hand grabs the fabric of my shirt and holds on tight.
"Where have you been?" She whispers, urging us away from the theater and out of earshot of the other dancers.
I shake my head as a pair of waiters pass by, their curious stares stuck on us. "Come on. We can talk upstairs."
She doesn't fight, following my quick steps through the halls and casino. With hands linked, we ignore groans from a blackjack table and skirt between slot machines. A weighted sigh slips from my lips when we're finally in the confines of my private lobby.
Bella's teeth tug at her bottom lip as her gaze falls. She opens her mouth as if to speak but shakes her head before muttering, "I'm sorry."
"What?" I'm not following. My brain is too sleep-deprived to comprehend. "What on Earth do you have to be sorry for?"
"Last night," she says, stepping into the elevator when the doors open. "I should have at least listened to you. Heard what you had to say."
She leans against one mirrored wall while I take place against the other. I frown at the humility written in her expression while I search through the recesses of my memory, desperately seeking a conversation I've forgotten.
"Bella, you're going to have to be more specific. My brain is kind of shot at the moment." I rub my forehead as if to accentuate my state of mind.
Head cocked to the side, she steps forward. "The diner. I… maybe I should quit."
And it comes back to me. Bella is unwilling to rely on me. Her still-packed bag sits in the closet, and she insists that she keeps both her jobs, working herself to the bone. She doesn't trust me to provide for her.
"Right." I huff as my head tilts, hitting the mirror behind me. Defeat and weariness weigh upon me as my insecurity slips out. "I'm not enough for you."
Her hair sweeps against her shoulders as she shakes her head, dismissing my claim. "God, that's not it. Edward, I never said that. I never thought that."
"Then let me take care of you. Stop fighting this… us."
Her voice drops so low I can barely hear her when she says, "Okay."
The elevator doors open to my foyer, and despite my urge to force her to elaborate, I know this conversation is better suited for inside my penthouse. With a hand low on her back, I guide her, unlocking my door and ushering her inside.
More coherent but still exhausted, I detour into the kitchen and pull two cool water bottles from the refrigerator, handing one to Bella. She places it on the counter, her finger tracing circles around the cap while I chug half of mine in one go.
My thirst quenched, and emotions swirling, I close my eyes, willing my words to align into complete sentences. "Bella, what the hell happened today? This morning at the diner?"
Gaze fixated on the countertop, Bella's shoulders drop as she blinks away the tears that threaten to fall. "The Russian man, the same one that approached me in the lobby weeks ago, was waiting for me when I arrived."
"What did he say to you?" I step closer, my palms flat on the counter as I stand opposite her.
"He threatened me, saying the same things he did before. He wants you to stay out of his business." Her eyes meet mine, and an ache builds in my chest at the fear that resides in her expression. "He chased me, Edward. I had to drive like a maniac back to La Bellissima. I didn't think I was going to make it."
I'm around the counter, sweeping her into an embrace before the first teardrop trickles down her cheek. "I've got you, baby. You're safe now."
Clinging to the lapels of my jacket, she buries her face into my chest. Her quiet sobs have my jaw clenched and my inner demons hungry for Vladimir Petrov's blood.
"I don't want to go back to Carmen's, Edward. Not alone."
"Then don't." Trying to diffuse my fury, I rub circles against Bella's back with shaking hands. Petrov has hours left to live. He leaped over a boundary I will not ignore. "Stay here, stay with me. I can provide everything you need."
"But eventually…" She pulls away, wiping at the remaining wetness underneath her eyes. "Well, I mean…"
"You mean what?" I prod, unable to understand her hesitation.
"I'm a showgirl, hardly the kind of woman a man as powerful as you will end up with. Eventually, you'll have to move on. You'll want to move on. What happens to me then?"
The vulnerability in Bella's watery eyes as she watches my reaction guts me to the core. How could this wonderful creature believe I would ever leave her? I'm the lucky bastard who should thank God every day that he brought her into my life. If anyone, he knows I don't deserve her.
I break. My chest rapidly rises and falls. Anxiety over the thought of losing this woman who has become the counterpart to my soul drives me to a near panic. "Bella, if there is one thing I can promise you, it is that I will remain by your side until the day you tell me we're through. You enamor me. I'm stupidly in love. Never question my want or my need to protect and care for you. I'm yours. I'm begging you, tell me you're mine as well."
A hesitant smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she searches my face for any hint of insincerity. "You mean it, don't you?"
"On my life," I swear because I would gladly die for her.
With hope, she begins to answer my plea. Her grins grows before she opens her mouth to speak— and the blaring of my cell interrupts the words I'm desperate to hear.
"Shit." Pulling the phone from my pocket, I grimace at the caller I.D., Emmett. "I have to take this," I apologize, turning and pacing toward the living room as I answer the call.
"Hey, bro." Emmett's voice is apologetic yet tense. "We've got an issue. Petrov called in reinforcements. Jasper tracked at least a dozen bratva soldiers flying into the city. They're arriving tonight."
With a muttered, "I'll be right down," I turn to Bella in apology.
"I get it. Go. I'll stay here and wait for you." She promises, lifting to her toes and kissing my cheek.
"You swear you won't leave the penthouse?" I hold her cheeks, keeping her face inches from mine.
"Only for rehearsal and the show. Until you tell me otherwise."
"One of my men will escort you to the theater." She nods, accepting my demand.
With a final kiss, I drop her from my hold and turn toward the door.
"Edward," she calls, running to catch me as I hold up my key card. "I can't find my phone. You'll have to call the penthouse to get a hold of me."
I nod and step through the door.
It's time to prepare for battle.
A/N: Will there be war? Will Bella stay safe at La Bellissima? We'll have to wait and see...