Chapter 11: Tangled Secrets

"Another casualty in the city's ongoing power struggle," the anchor said, voice smooth but impersonal. "Authorities confirm that Anthony Vega, 42, was found shot to death late last night in his car outside Russo's Diner. Vega, a local businessman with alleged ties to organized crime, was under investigation for financial fraud. No suspects have been named."

Edward barely suppressed a scoff. "Businessman" was a polite way of saying mid-level informant. And "no suspects" meant nobody was talking.

"It's definitely a cleanup job," Emmett muttered from the couch, his arms crossed as he scrutinized the footage. "We knew it was coming for him."

Edward nodded grimly. The Swans were sending a message. Vega must've talked, or someone thought he might. Either way, he was dead now.

"Any chance this was James' work?" Edward asked, lowering himself onto the couch beside his brother.

Emmett shook his head. "Nah. He was running point on the warehouse deal last week." He exhaled, rubbing a hand across his jaw. "They wanted it really loud. He probably had one of his foot soldiers do this for him."

The screen cut to crime scene footage, flashing red-and-blue lights, detectives circling the area, crime scene tape fluttering in the night. A figure stepped into the frame, and Edward stiffened.

Detective Mendoza.

Edward's stomach tensed. He hadn't seen Mendoza in years, but the guy hadn't changed, same hard-set jaw, same sharp eyes scanning the scene like he was already connecting dots.

"Shit," Edward muttered under his breath.

Emmett glanced over. "Oh, that is Mendoza."

Edward's jaw tightened."Worked cases with him in the past."

Emmett sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Yeah, well, let's just hope he doesn't get too curious. 'Cause if he starts sniffing, he'll be next."

Edward didn't respond. He didn't have to. He flipped through the morning edition of the New York Times, his eyes locking onto the headline:

"THE SWAN DYNASTY: A LEGACY OF POWER AND BLOOD"

For decades, the Swan family has ruled New York's underworld with an iron fist. What began as a small smuggling operation has transformed into a multi-million-dollar empire with ties to international crime syndicates, law enforcement, and high-ranking politicians. Despite multiple investigations by the FBI, no Swan has ever seen the inside of a prison cell. The message is clear: In New York, you don't cross the Swans and live to tell the tale.

Edward folded the paper. If only the city knew what the government planned for the past few years. They just had to make sure they stick to the plan.

They went back to playing video games and just disconnect while they could and spent time together.

Later that night, Edward locked the door and pulled the blinds. He moved to the small, unassuming desk in the corner and ran his fingers under its edge, feeling for any disturbances. A bug sweep was routine now for him and Emmett. Edward headed to the small, unassuming desk in the corner. The laptop sat there, a burner model wiped clean of any personal data. A second later, Emmett plugged in a secure signal scrambler, ensuring no one could trace their call.

Satisfied, he powered on the burner laptop, a cheap model wiped clean of any personal data. Emmett stood beside him, arms crossed, watching the door like a sentry. A second later, he plugged in a secure signal scrambler, ensuring the call couldn't be traced or intercepted.

The screen flickered to life, and the FBI's encrypted comms line connected with a barely perceptible. Seth appeared tense. Behind them, the dimly lit operations room hummed with activity. A whiteboard with pinned photos and case notes loomed in the background, red strings connecting names like a web.

"Status?" Leah's tone was clipped. No time for pleasantries.

Edward leaned forward, voice low. "No exposure. We're inside deeper than ever. We just got looped into a major operation, product moving through the docks. Swan's giving us direct orders now."

Leah exchanged a glance with Seth. That was big.

"We've got movement on our end too," Seth said, fingers flying across a keyboard. "Financials confirm that Aurelio Imports is dirty. We traced wire transfers; money's funneling offshore, probably for laundering."

Emmett exhaled. "Enough to move?"

"Not yet." Leah's voice was edged with frustration. "We need a hard link like a proof that directly ties them to a felony. Right now, it's circumstantial. But we're close."

Emmett cut in, his voice even. "How close? Because the more we're involved, the more eyes are on us."

Leah's gaze sharpened. "Close enough that if you find anything, ledgers, coded transactions, we can for sure lock this down. You get one piece of evidence we can take to a judge, and we move."

Edward and Emmett exchanged a look. This was the worst part, knowing one wrong move meant they wouldn't be extracted, they'd be silenced. All he could think about was his parents and Bella.

Then, Seth leaned back and smirked."And what about Isabella Swan?"

Edward went rigid. He kept his expression blank, but his fingers curled into a fist on the desk. It had been a couple of days since he'd seen her. And if he was being honest with himself, he missed her.

Before he could respond, Emmett cut in smoothly, his voice even. "So far, so good. Nothing to report; it seems like she is nowhere in this. Bosses trust him. We're staying in the clear."

Leah wasn't convinced. Her sharp gaze flicked to Edward, assessing."Just remember the rules," she said, voice edged with warning. "We're close, but this isn't over yet. Don't let personal distractions get in the way."

"Definitely not," Edward said flatly.

A heavy silence.

Finally, Leah leaned back. "Check-in 48 hours from now. If anything changes before that, use the emergency line." Her eyes met Edward's. "And if you feel like you're compromised, say the code phrase. We'll get you out."

Edward knew what that meant. A burn notice. If he used that phrase, the FBI would pull them out immediately, but it would also mean they'd blow their entire cover.

He nodded once. "Understood."

The screen went black.

Edward sat back, exhaling slowly, dragging a hand through his hair.

Emmett was already watching him, arms crossed. "They're not wrong, you know."

Edward didn't respond. He didn't have to. He just stared at the dark screen.

"I know," he said quietly.

Over the next few weeks, he and Emmett got involved in much more. They were now trusted to be part of much more high-level discussions. They even were now trusted to handle specific operations like Simon, Victoria, James and so on, and do things like moving product, securing shipment, and handling collections.

Fair to say that not a lot of people were happy about that shift, but there was nothing they could say or do about it, especially when these directions were given to him by Caius Swan. The thing about this fact was scary because the closer they were to the bosses, the higher the risk. And the moment someone disrespects the family, Caius would be the first to send a warning or bullet.

At one such meeting, Simon was going over logistics with Dominic, and he was a seasoned capo, leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. His sharp gaze flicked to Edward."Kind of odd, isn't it?"His voice was casual, but his eyes weren't."We've got guys who've been around for years, and suddenly this new guy gets handed the boss's daughter?"

The room stilled slightly. Simon just smirked and took a slow drag of his cigarette before answering.

"Boss' orders. That's all you need to know."

Victoria, who had been quietly flipping through documents, finally glanced up. She didn't speak often, but when she did, people listened.

"The Boss doesn't make decisions on a whim," she said, studying Edward with cool detachment."So, either Masen's done something impressive, or there's a reason none of us know."

Dominic exhaled sharply through his nose. "Must've done something big," he muttered, still watching Edward. There was suspicion in his voice.

Edward kept his face neutral, his body language relaxed, but inside, his mind was already calculating. Simon didn't know the full truth; it seemed that no one did. And from the looks in the room, he wasn't the only one questioning it. It did not help that right after this shindig, he was scheduled to go pick up Bella at a function.

Edward spotted Bella engaged in conversation with a well-dressed man, their exchange smooth and professional. He lingered near the doorway, unnoticed at first, but when their eyes met, recognition flickered across her face.

Jesus.

Edward had seen Bella before; he had seen her dressed up and seen her in casual clothes. But somehow, tonight felt different. Maybe it was the way the black lace top clung to her, delicate but revealing. Or the way the neckline dipped just enough to frame the thin chain resting against her skin, drawing his eyes lower before he forced himself to look away. Too long. He looked for too long.

His jaw tightened as she turned, the low lighting catching the sheen of her dark hair as it cascaded over one shoulder. And then there were the jeans. High-waisted, .The belt cinched her waist in a way that made something coil in his stomach, something sharp and restless. Everything accentuated her curves, and he wondered what he would give to just put his hands on her hair. Her neck. Her waist. Her….

Get it together.

Edward flexed his fingers at his side, releasing the tension before shoving his hands into his pockets. He was here for a job. That was all.

She smiled before leaning in to press a polite goodbye kiss on the man's cheek. The man followed her gaze, tracking it straight to Edward, and Edward didn't miss the subtle shift in his expression. A flicker of disappointment. If only he knew he was there to do his job. But Edward wasn't about to correct him. Let him wonder. The idea of being someone significant in Bella's orbit wasn't such a bad one.

Bella smiled, but as she approached, her gaze flicked over him with quiet amusement. "You do this thing where your jaw clenches when you're trying not to react." Her gaze flicked over him, and she tilted her head slightly. "Annoyed, maybe?"

"Didn't realize you were studying me that closely." His voice was amused, but the warmth in his chest betrayed him. He liked that she noticed him. Thatshe blushed.

"Not annoyed. Just doing my job," Edward continued, smirking slightly.

Bella let out a soft laugh, the sound richer than before, more comfortable. "You might want to mix in some fun, or people will think you're a statue."

Edward smirked. "Duly noted."

"You are very good at this guard thing." She took a sip of her drink, eyes steady on him. "But I can't tell if you actually like being here or if you're just good at pretending."

"Maybe I just don't hate it as much as I thought I would."

He held her gaze, something unreadable passing between them before she set her glass down with a knowing smile. "Interesting."

Edward arched a brow. "What is?"

She didn't answer, just let the moment hang between them before the spell was broken by the sound of her friends approaching.

As the evening wound down and the guests trickled out, Bella's friends lingered just long enough to tease her.

"Your bodyguard looks like he hasn't smiled since the Stone Age," one of them joked.

Bella rolled her eyes, but Edward caught the way her lips twitched, suppressing a smile. "He's just focused," she said smoothly, then, almost as an afterthought, "besides, I think he smiles more than you think."

Edward felt the corner of his mouth tug upward, but he stayed silent.

Once the last guest left, the gallery grew quieter, the energy settling. Bella turned to him, arms crossed, a playful glint in her eye.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, casual but pointed.

Edward blinked. "I'm fine."

Bella studied him for a second too long, then smirked. "I'll take that as a yes. Come on, take me somewhere you actually like."

Edward hesitated. "That's not exactly how this works."

Bella was already moving, waving a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "It's not a demand. Just an invitation."

He should have shut it down. He needed to. Remind her that this wasn't part of the job, that they weren't supposed to do things like this. But when she looked back at him, expectant, like she already knew he'd say yes… his refusal caught in his throat.

This is a mistake, he told himself.

He still opened the door for her

The drive was quiet, save for the soft hum of the car's engine. Bella sat relaxed in the seat in the back, her fingers idly drumming against the window frame.

"You always follow the rules this closely?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Edward's jaw ticked before his lips twitched. "Depends on the rule."

Bella let out a small laugh. "That's the most non-answer I've ever heard."

He allowed himself a small smirk. "It was an answer."

She huffed a quiet laugh. "Right. The kind that tells me absolutely nothing."

Before he could respond, the car slowed in front of a small Italian bistro tucked into a quiet side street, its golden glow spilling out onto the pavement. Hoping she would like it.

Edward stepped out first, moving to open the door for her. Just as she reached for the handle, her fingers brushed against his. It was light but enough to make his pulse jump. Bella didn't acknowledge it, didn't react, just slipped into the seat with a small, unreadable was nothing. Barely a shut the door a little too firmly.

As they approached the host, he started to say, "Table for one—"

"Two," Bella interrupted smoothly, her voice as easy as if correcting a minor mistake.

Edward glanced at her, brow raised, but Bella just smiled, utterly unbothered. She walked ahead, leaving him no choice but to follow.

They were led to a table in the back for privacy. Bella motioned to the seat across from her. "Sit. You can be on duty and eat at the same time."

Old habits die hard. His eyes flicked around the room, assessing exits, scanning faces. But no one was watching. No one except her.

Bella leaned forward slightly, resting her chin in her hand. "Come on. What do you think's gonna happen? I make you try the breadsticks, and suddenly the whole place bursts into chaos?"

Edward exhaled, something between a sigh and a quiet laugh. "You have a habit of making things difficult."

She grinned. "And you have a habit of overthinking everything."

His jaw ticked slightly, but after a beat, he sank into the chair.

Bella beamed, clearly satisfied. "See? That wasn't so hard."

Edward shook his head, smirking. "You have a way of getting what you want."

She lifted her menu, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Only when it's worth the effort."

Another week, another chapter. :)

My goal is to be as accurate as I can, so I make sure to do my due diligence on how crime organization operates. And I hope it is being translated as such.

What are your expectations for the next chapter? Title: A Seat at the Table

Don't leave without letting me know your thoughts.