Chapter 17: The Test

When they got home after the bar, they continued talking in their small kitchen. The clock on the microwave blinked past 2:00 AM. The fridge hummed. The overhead light cast everything in that dull, gritty yellow that made the whole place feel smaller.

Edward broke the silence.

"It's already too late."

Emmett's brows drew together. "What the hell does that mean?"

Edward swallowed hard. His beer sat untouched, sweat beading on the glass like it couldn't breathe either. He met his brother's gaze and forced the words out.

"I kissed her."

The silence that followed was immediate. Emmett didn't blink at first. He just stared at Edward like the words hadn't landed. Like he'd misheard.

"You what?" he said, voice low.

Edward exhaled. "It just… happened. At the club."

"You kissed her," Emmett repeated, slower this time. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

Edward didn't answer. They'd fought before, over stupid shit, over dangerous shit. Once, years ago, Emmett had put Edward through a drywall for ditching backup on a raid. They'd made up with beers and food. But this? This was different.

Emmett pushed back from the chair, rubbing his hands over his face, pacing in the small space between their table and the wall.

"So, you kissed the boss's daughter." He let out a broken laugh, like he couldn't believe the words had to come from him. "Jesus, Ed. That's Charlie motherfucking Swan's daughter. The one person in this whole fucked-up world we're supposed to stay away from. You know that. You know that better than anyone."

"I know—"

"No, you don't know!" Emmett snapped. "Because if you did, you wouldn't have let it happen. You wouldn't be sitting here looking like it meant something."

Edward's jaw clenched. "It did," he said, voice low. "And that's what scares the hell out of me."

Emmett froze. "Jesus Fucking Christ." He stared at Edward like he was trying to find his brother in someone else's face. "It meant something?"

"Wait, at the club 3 nights ago? You've been sitting on this for days?" he continued

Edward nodded slowly, no hesitation this time. "I tried to fight it. I swear to God, Em. I tried. For fucking long."

"You don't get to try," Emmett snapped. "You don't get to feel. That's not what this is, Ed. This is a fucking takedown. And you're out here dreaming about pillow talk and paintbrushes?"

"I'm still doing the job," Edward said quietly. "I haven't stopped."

Emmett leaned across the table, voice a sharp whisper. "You compromised yourself. You compromised her. You could get us killed."

"I know," Edward raised his voice. "Don't you think I know?"

Something in Emmett's face shifted. The anger didn't disappear but something older rose up beneath it. Something heavier.

"You're my goddamn brother, and I'd die for you. But this?" His voice cracked. "This is how people get carved out of walls, Ed, in this business."

Edward looked down, jaw tight. "I didn't mean for it to go this far."

"You think Charlie will care about that?" Emmett shook his head. "You think they won't eventually notice the way you look at her?"

"I'm careful—"

"Not careful enough."

Silence settled between them. Finally, Emmett let out a breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose like it physically hurt to process.

"I hate that you're in this position," he said. "I hate that you're feeling this and can't do anything with it. And I hate even more that I have to be the one to tell you this, but…"

He met Edward's eyes, raw and honest.

"You need to end it. Now. Whatever it is."

Edward didn't answer. He couldn't. Because a part of him already knew he wouldn't.

Emmett didn't say anything else. He just stood there watching him. Then he turned and left the kitchen. The kitchen was quiet again. The fridge hummed again, and the kind of quiet that only shows up after truth detonates and leaves everything raw.

The beer bottle was still in Edward's hand when the knock came. The conversation with Emmett circled his brain like a broken reel. He hadn't even realized he'd drifted off in the chair until the sound jolted him upright.

He blinked, hand already moving toward the gun at his back as the fog cleared. The clock on the stove glowed 3:47AM. Too late for a social call. Too early for anything good.

Edward rose slowly, muscles coiling with instinct. Then another knock. Same rhythm.
He exhaled, steadying himself, and moved toward the door.

He pulled it open.

Simon stood there, hands in his jacket pockets. Stance easy. Eyes sharp.
His expression gave away nothing, but the slight tilt of his head made Edward's stomach coil.

"You're needed. Caius is waiting." Simon's voice was flat. Unreadable.

Edward forced his face into neutral.

"Now."

Edward nodded once, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on. He thought of mentioning something to Emmett. But the way Simon was watching him, this wasn't the moment to stall.

Simon had already turned, heading down the hall, down the stairs.
Edward followed, each step heavier than the last, toward the quiet car waiting at the curb.

He slid into the passenger seat. Simon took the wheel. No words were spoken.

The car pulled into the warehouse district. Rusted steel, shattered windows, and the stink of old rain caught the glow of distant streetlamps like a warning. Simon killed the engine without a word. Edward stepped out, his boots crunching against the gravel and broken glass. They slipped through a side door, the metal groaning behind them.

Inside, it was cold. Industrial.

Caius was already there.

He stood near the center of the space, leather jacket slung over his shoulder. He looked like a man with nowhere better to be, but every inch of him said otherwise. His sharp blue eyes cut to Edward as he entered.

Victoria leaned against a support beam nearby, casually dragging on a cigarette. Two other guys stood off to the side, mid-tier enforcers Edward had seen at collection meets. Not posturing. Just ready. No one in this room was off duty.

And then there was a man in the chair.

He was slumped forward. His face a ruin of bruises and split skin, his breathing ragged, a swollen eye sealed shut. Blood crusted at his temple and trailed down his neck. His breathing came in slow, uneven gulps. His wrists were zip-tied behind him. His shirt hung in shreds, and he wasn't moving.

Caius spoke first.

"Masen," His voice was calm. "Thought you might appreciate a little hands-on instruction."

Edward gave a nod."Boss."

Caius smiled faintly, then flicked his hand toward the man in the chair.

"We've got a problem," he said simply.

Edward didn't respond. He knew exactly what this was: a test. Not for the guy tied up. Caius didn't need Edward here. James could've handled it. Simon. Hell, Victoria had probably already done most of the damage. But instead, he'd called him.

"Word is," Caius continued, "he's been talking to the wrong people."

Victoria pushed off the beam and blew out a thin stream of smoke. "Took a little convincing, but he finally admitted it," she said, nudging the man's shoulder with her boot."Didn't you, sweetheart?"

The man groaned. Barely lifted his head. His voice cracked. "…Please."

Caius ignored him. He was still watching Edward.

"I need you to remind him what happens when people forget their place."

Edward didn't blink. Didn't shift.

This wasn't a request.

He stepped forward slowly, he could feel every pair of eyes on him. The man flinched as Edward approached. His breath quickened. Edward's fingers flexed. Caius didn't just want brutality; he wanted loyalty displayed.

Edward crouched low. Voice quiet. Icy. Playing along.

"Who were you talking to?"

The man whimpered. "No one! I swear to God, I didn't—"

CRACK.

Edward's fist slammed into his ribs. A clean shot. He was not a small man, at 6 feet 2, with his background, he knew exactly how much force he carried, and where to place it for maximum damage.

The man gasped, choking on the pain, legs kicking weakly beneath the chair. One of the soldiers let out a low grunt of approval. Victoria's cigarette paused midair.

Edward's voice didn't change."Try again."

The man coughed. Cried. "P-police. Just...just the local cops! They...they asked questions, I..I didn't—"

Edward grabbed him by the collar and yanked his face up, ignoring the blood on his knuckles.

"That's not what I asked."

His voice dropped to a near whisper.

"I asked for a name."CRACK

It went on for a while. The man sobbed. Shaking. Then finally:

"Detective Mendoza!"

Edward's breath caught. Just for a second.

"Detective Mendoza!" he sobbed, his entire body shaking."It was once, I swear! I didn't give him anything. He just asked if we moved product through the docks—I told him no!"

Mendoza. NYPD's Organized Crime Task Force. Active investigations are tied to Swan ops in Staten Island and the docks. Too close.

He didn't glance at Caius. Didn't need to.

Caius handled informants, loosening his grip just enough. The man slumped back in the chair, barely conscious.

Edward stood. Adjusted his sleeves. His face was unreadable.

Caius was still watching. His expression hadn't changed, but something in his eyes had sharpened. Then he nodded.

"Good."

He stepped forward and clapped Edward on the shoulder.

Edward gave a tight nod back. "He won't forget it."

Caius turned to Victoria. "Get rid of him."

Edward didn't watch what came next. He turned and walked out, the cold warehouse air clinging to him like smoke. His breathing was steady. His body is calm. But inside, his pulse was still hammering. His fingers still throbbed. He had done what was expected. And he had passed. Also, at the same time, I could not wait to report this.

Behind him, Caius exhaled slowly through his nose. He tilted his head, watching Edward's retreating form. The smirk at the corner of his mouth didn't reach his eyes.

"You did good, very good, Masen."

Edward stopped at the door. Caius called after him, voice almost amused. "But you know what they say…"

His tone darkened. "Once you're in, you're in."

A pause.

"No second thoughts."

Edward turned slightly. Held his stare. "No second thoughts, boss."

Caius nodded once. Without breaking eye contact, he motioned to Simon, who stepped forward, reached into his jacket, and tossed a thick white envelope onto a nearby crate.

"Your cut."

Edward walked back. Picked it up. Caius' voice dropped, quieter now. "Get yourself something nice."

He would report every word at the next check-in. Let Leah make of it what they would.

Edward forced a nod. A smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "Appreciate it, boss."

Edward turned to go, his steps slow, controlled, but just as he reached the warehouse door, Caius spoke again.

"Oh, and Masen…"

Edward stopped and turned. Caius lazily flicked the ash off his cigarette.

"For whatever reason…"Caius exhaled smoke, tilting his head slightly."My niece feels safe with you around."

The words were calm, almost conversational. Caius watched Edward carefully. Edward's jaw stayed still, his breathing even, but he felt it—that split-second spike of adrenaline, that quick, involuntary tension in his fingers before he forced them to still.

"You know how much she means to me, right?"

Edward's jaw tightened slightly, but he nodded."Of course."

"Good."Caius took another drag, letting the moment stretch before continuing."Because if she ever gets a bad feeling about you…"

The cigarette was still between his fingers.

"I don't care how useful you are. I'll put a bullet between your eyes myself."

The words landedlike a hammer against steel. The two guards by the walldidn't even lookedbored, but amused.

Edward met Caius' stare head-on.

"I'd never let anything happen to her." And that was the honest truth,

Caius let the words hang. Studying, slowly, he smirked.

"Smart answer."

He took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away, watching as the ember faded against the concrete floor.

"See you soon, Masen."

Edward gave a short nod before finally turning.

Edward didn't go straight to bed.

He showered. Changed. Sat on the edge of the mattress, towel still damp around his neck, fingers laced like he was bracing for the next hit. The warehouse was behind him, but his body hadn't caught up. His knuckles still ached. His mind hadn't stopped moving.

Then the burner lit up.

Simon.

Edward's jaw tensed. He hadn't even been home fifteen minutes. No sleep. No food. Just steam, soap, and silence. He let the irritation sit in his chest then picked up the phone.

"Masen," Simon said. "You busy?"

Edward's voice was flat. "No."

"There is a drop tomorrow. Midtown. Just eyes, no muscle."

Edward straightened slightly. "Details'll be on a slip. Same concierge as last time."

"Got it." The line clicked off.

The door creaked open. Emmett stepped in, arms crossed. "You were gone a while," he said.

"Warehouse," Edward replied.

Emmett shut the door behind him. "What happened?"

"It was a test. An informant. Tied to Mendoza."

That stopped Emmett mid-step, and he stepped closer. "You sure?"

Edward nodded. "He cracked after a few hits. Dropped the name. Caius didn't even blink."

"Fuck." Emmett dragged a hand down his face. "Did he react at all?"

"Just watched," Edward said. "Victoria finished him."

Emmett didn't ask what that meant. He already knew.

"Did he say anything after?"

"Gave me a payout," Edward said. "Told me I was one of them."

Emmett exhaled slowly. "So we're really in."

Edward shook his head. "No. Not us. Just me. I feel like they're isolating me now."

Emmett stiffened. "How?"

"I got a solo assignment," Edward said. "Tomorrow. Midtown drop. Eyes only."

Emmett muttered something under his breath, pacing now. "That's skeleton intel. Internal movement. They don't give that to anyone unless they're grooming you."

"I know," A long beat passed.

"When are you reporting it?"

"In the morning. Dead drop. Coded transcript only," Edward said. "Leah will pick up the Mendoza flag."

Emmett nodded slowly. Then added, "We might need to get him out."

"If Caius suspects he said more than he did? Mendoza's already dead. Even a whisper from the wrong guy and he's in the ground."

Edward gave a tight nod. "I'll flag him discreetly. Just enough to trigger a rotation."

"And don't mention the payout," Emmett added.

Edward frowned. "Why?"

"They'll flag it. Say you're too close. Start questioning if you're compromised," Emmett said. "Too early for that noise."

Edward didn't argue. He knew Emmett was right. He knew how the Bureau worked. One wrong tone, one over-read line, and they'd pull the plug before he ever got close.

"Just stick to the facts," Emmett continued. "Name drop. Role shift. And that Caius is calling you by name now. That's enough for the Bureau to sit up."

"Done."

Emmett looked at him for a long moment. Then his tone softened. "About earlier…"

Edward met his eyes.

"I've known you your whole damn life," Emmett said, quieter now. "You don't get reckless. You don't chase. You've never let your personal shit bleed into the job."

Edward stayed silent. But something in him eased.

"So if you're feeling something, for her, it's not noise," Emmett pressed on. "It's real. I might not like it, but I believe you."

"I just need you to remember what's at stake," Emmett continued. "This thing goes sideways, it's not just your neck on the line. It's everyone. Me. Rosie. Mom. Dad. Everyone."

"I know what it costs," Edward said.

"Good," Emmett replied. "Because I meant what I said. We will figure it out. Together."

Edward's voice was steady."You still trust me?"

"Always," Emmett said, without hesitation.

They held each other's stare.

"You alright?" Emmett asked.

Edward nodded. "I'm focused."

Emmett's shoulders dropped the slightest bit. "Great work, little bro."

Edward gave a faint smirk. "Didn't feel like work."

"That's how you know it mattered." Emmett left quietly, the door clicking shut behind him.

Edward sat in the dim room. The silence wasn't empty, it was full of everything he couldn't say. The hum of the fridge just outside. The faint sting in his hand.

And, like always, his mind circled back.

Bella.

The kiss.

Her mouth. Her breath. The way everything in him had gone, still and alive at the same time. His body reacted like it always did. He'd walked out that night. Left her standing there after all of it.

(FLASHBACK)

"I want this," he said finally. God, I want this. But I can't afford to want it. There's too much at risk."

Bella's expression softened. She nodded."I understand." She stepped closer, fingers grazing his arm as she leaned in. Her breath was warm on his skin as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. When she pulled back, her eyes held a quiet confidence.

"Your move, Masen," she said and turned.

(END OF FLASHBACK)

Now, sitting alone, all he could think was:

I have to fix this.

Mid-week update :) A little bit on the operation side, the next one would be about that famous kiss and Bella.

You know what to do :)