Chapter 8: Moments Alone

The gallery hummed with life, a carefully curated blend of high society and true art lovers, all drawn together by one thing, Isabella Swan.

Edward stood near the entrance; his posture relaxed but his mind hyper-aware. The space was immaculate: pristine white walls, dimmed spotlights illuminating each painting's rich colors and textures, the occasional clink of champagne glasses and murmured conversations filling the air. The gallery buzzed with an energy that only New York City could create. If you didn't know any better, you'd never guess that the artist responsible for all of this was the daughter of one of the most feared men in New York.

But Edward did know better.

The crowd was an eclectic mix: seasoned collectors discussing brushstrokes with hushed reverence, models in silk dresses sipping wine, men in tailored suits pretending to care about art while their eyes lingered too long on Bella. He clenched his jaw slightly at the thought.

He had no business being distracted tonight.

He stood near the entrance, his eyes scanning the room, though they frequently landed on Bella. He wore a tailored black suit, blending in seamlessly with the crowd of high-society patrons. Charlie had made it clear: nothing could go wrong tonight.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but this wasn't it. The crowd was an eclectic mix of New York's elite—art collectors in tailored suits and cocktail dresses, socialites with sparkling jewelry, and critics who gestured animatedly as they dissected the meaning of each piece. But there were also people who didn't fit the mold. A young woman in ripped jeans and combat boots stood near a painting, her expression thoughtful as she tilted her head. A man with dreadlocks and a sketchpad moved quietly through the room, jotting notes and occasionally sketching in the margins.

"Looking cozy, little bro." Emmett's voice crackled through the earpiece.

Edward smirked slightly, keeping his gaze moving. "Stay focused."

"You're the one staring at her."

Edward forced himself to shift his attention, but it was impossible to ignore her for long. She was magnetic; gliding between guests, her laughter carrying softly, her expressions shifting seamlessly from polite interest to genuine amusement. She knew how to command a room. She was wearing black—simple, elegant, devastating. The dress hugged her in all the right places, stopping just above her knees, her bare shoulders exposed under the dim light. Her dark waves cascaded over one shoulder, her lips painted a deep red that had Edward swallowing harder than he'd like to admit.

"She's a natural," Emmett's voice crackled in Edward's earpiece. Edward didn't respond, but he couldn't disagree.

Edward couldn't help but notice how everyone seemed drawn to her. Men and women alike leaned in as she spoke, captivated by her charm. She moved through the crowd with practiced ease, her laughter carrying softly over the hum of the room. At one point, she stood beside two of her friends, both women dressed in designer outfits. They laughed together, sipping champagne as they spoke to a couple of older men who seemed captivated by whatever Bella was saying.

At one point, their eyes met across the room.

Bella tilted her head slightly, lips parting just a fraction as if she was trying to place something about him. He broke the stare first, looking at his watch. A pointless gesture.

His focus needed to be anywhere but on her.

As the evening progressed, Edward moved along the gallery perimeter, keeping his attention split between the artwork and the security of the event. The paintings were striking, each one carrying an undercurrent of emotion. Passion. Rage. Longing. He wasn't an art guy, but he could appreciate something real when he saw it.

Edward caught snippets of conversations as he moved through the room.

"This one," a woman in a deep emerald dress mused beside him, pointing at a painting with bold strokes of gold and white. "It feels… alive, don't you think?"

Edward paused near the painting, tilting his head to study it. The layers of paint seemed almost alive, the golden streaks catching the light like they were in motion.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Bella's voice startled him. Her voice was soft and knowing.

Edward turned slightly, finding her watching him with quiet amusement. Up close, she was even more distracting. A faint floral scent clung to her skin, her light brown eyes filled with something he couldn't quite place.

"It is," Edward admitted. "I didn't expect to like it as much as I do."

Bella smiled, stepping closer. "You didn't seem like the art gallery type."

Edward chuckled softly. "Just here for the job."

Bella tilted her head slightly, studying him. "You're Masen, right?"

His chest tightened slightly. She knew his name.

"That's right."

"I thought so." She tilted her head as if assessing him. "My father doesn't bring just anyone into the fold. You must be good at what you do."

Edward's smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. "Something like that."

Bella let her gaze linger on him for a second too long like she was seeing through him in a way that made his stomach tighten.

"Well," she said, her voice light, "you seem good at your job. No one's gotten past security tonight, so I guess I should thank you."

Edward inclined his head slightly. "No thanks necessary."

Her lips quirked. "You're very serious, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "Comes with the job." His brain could not wrap around the fact she was that close and talking to him. All he could do was give a short answer and he did not want to give her the impression that he was dry.

Bella exhaled softly, looking out over the crowd before turning back to him. "I hope you get to enjoy some of the evening. My father doesn't exactly make it easy for people to relax, does he?"

Edward studied her, weighing his words carefully. "No," he admitted. "He doesn't."

Bella looked like she wanted to say something else, but before she could, someone called her name. She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him.

"Duty calls," she murmured, before disappearing into the crowd.

Edward exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

Fuck.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of champagne glasses clinking, and conversations murmuring. Edward spent the rest of the evening keeping his distance, but his attention kept drifting. Every so often, he'd catch Bella glancing in his direction, and every time, his pulse kicked just a little harder.

"She's something, huh?" Emmett's voice pulled him from his thoughts. His brother had joined him at the edge of the room, a smirk playing on his lips.

Edward didn't answer, keeping his eyes on the crowd.

Emmett chuckled. "You spent a lot of time staring tonight."

"Shut up," Edward muttered, taking a slow sip of water.

"Hey, I get it," Emmett continued, clearly enjoying this. "She's smart. Stunning. Way out of your league, obviously."

Edward shot him a look. "You done?"

Emmett laughed, shaking his head. "Just saying. Don't let it get to you, little bro. You know what's at stake."

Edward's jaw tightened.

Yeah.

He knew exactly what was at stake.

As the last few guests trickled out, Edward overheard a quiet conversation between Bella and one of the gallery staff.

"Most of the pieces sold," the staff member said, sounding impressed.

Bella's eyes lit up. "Really? That's incredible." Edward allowed himself a small smile. It wasn't hard to see why. At this moment, he realized that she did have a little Italian accent. Sexy.

Edward observed as Bella greeted him with an easy familiarity—no tension, no hesitation. It was so different from how the world saw him. She whispered something that made Charlie laugh, a rare, genuine sound that Edward had never heard before.

Charlie's gaze flicked to Edward, and he gestured for him to step outside.

The night air was cooler than before, crisp and heavy with the lingering scent of the city. Edward followed Charlie to the curb where a black car idled.

"You handled yourself well," Charlie said, his tone unreadable.

Edward nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Charlie studied him for a long moment, then nodded toward the car, where Bella was already climbing into the backseat. "You'll continue to keep her safe from time to time. Tonight was just the beginning. Capisci?"

Edward's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Yes, sir."

Charlie gave him a lingering look before stepping into the car. The door shut, and the vehicle pulled away, leaving Edward standing alone on the curb.

A cigarette lit up beside him.

"Well?" Emmett exhaled smoke, watching the taillights disappear.

Edward didn't respond right away. His mind was still on Bella—the way she had looked at him, the way she had known his name, the way he knew he should keep his distance but wasn't sure if he could.

"We've got work to do," he muttered, turning away from the street.

Another week, another chapter! This is their first encounter. And what vibe are you getting from them? Also, I want to thank everyone who added this story in their favorite and for following. It means a lot to me. Leave your comment :)