Devil Incarnate Chapter Seventeen

Blinking awake, Edward turned his head to watch Bella sleep. Bruises in varying colors covered her body, reminding him of why he had to put his plan in motion immediately. Her behavior had become erratic, and though part of him couldn't blame her with all the stress they were under, he knew what had to be done. It was his chef who'd told him of Bella's meltdown in the kitchen the previous day. She'd gone to Rose, hoping to find a sympathetic ear. Instead, Rosalie and Tyler were scared for her mental health. It pleased him to know they remained loyal to him, alerting him when something was amiss. Even if that something was a someone—a member of the family. 

Easing from bed without disturbing his wife, Edward went through his usual morning routine before heading downstairs for coffee. It was early enough that no one except Tyler moved about, but Edward knew it would only be a matter of minutes before he found the person he sought. Sipping his coffee while staring blindly out the kitchen windows, Edward tried to be patient. It didn't come naturally to him, not in the slightest. He’d honed the art of faking patience, of slipping on the mask and waiting until his opponent squirmed and gave up in defeat. Sometimes, the greatest weapon was silence. When held against another person, they would often cave because they couldn't bear the weight of it.

When he heard familiar footsteps behind him, he waited. The sound of the coffee pot scraping against the warming plate greeted him, then the liquid splashing in the cup. He gave it another beat to permit the first gratifying sip, then he spoke.

“I need to meet with you in the basement. Alone.”

Without another word, the two went to the secret door and down into the bowels of the mansion. Pacing the length of the room, Edward let his companion settle on the couch, one ankle propped on the opposite knee and arms stretched along the back. 

"I don't like the direction Bella is headed," he began. "We need a plan. One separate from the others'."

"Agreed."

"No one else can know."

His companion's brows went up. "Not even—" 

"No one."

They nodded. "Understood."

Edward allowed himself a tiny smile at the automatic compliance. "Zion needs to know they'll get the product as demanded. The agency wants to ensure they don't. Where does that leave us?"

"The agency plan is fairly solid, with one exception. Having to steal the bomb after delivery. Since we don't want to blow up, we either take the risk we've already discussed, or we come up with something else."

"I'm not against something else."

"Hmm." 

"Spit it out."

"Are we sure we should . . . come up with an alternative without telling anyone? What if it goes wrong?"

Edward contemplated that point. "If it looks as though we'll need to bring someone else in on it, we can make that judgment when the time comes."

"We could just offer to partner with Zion separately. Tell them what the consequences are if they don't agree."

"Isn’t that too simple?"

"Simple can be best."

"You're right. Still, I'd like to think about it." Especially since it would mean betraying his wife. 

"Of course."

"Tomorrow morning, same time."

"Affirmative."

Alone, Edward considered the suggestion he'd received. He couldn't believe it had come down to this. On one hand, he could follow along with the agency's plan and hope Bella didn't decide to go rogue. On the other hand, he could get ahead of them all and make a new deal. 

Without coming to a solid conclusion, he made his way upstairs. Others would be awake, looking for breakfast. It would appear odd if he didn't show his face, and he didn't need to give the family cause for suspicion. When he stepped into the kitchen, Bella stood there pouring coffee. She’d covered the bruises on her face with a layer of makeup, but he knew where every single one of them were. And he wouldn’t forget.

Looking up from her mug, she gave him a tight smile. After a brief moment of hesitation, he inched closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. For a second, she leaned into him, and he inhaled her familiar scent. 

Then their children entered the room, and they were drawn in different directions. 

"Family meeting in the living room after breakfast," Edward announced. If the meeting location surprised anyone, no one verbalized it. Kiernan had returned to the house the previous night, and Seamus, Jasper, and Emmett had presumably taken care of Jamal.

When they'd gathered on the couches and chairs in the vast living room, Edward stood in front of the fireplace and nodded at Seamus. 

"The target was eliminated?"

Seamus nodded, a wolfish grin on his face. "With proof. Zero difficulties."

"Good." Gazing around the room, Edward settled his sights on Garrett. "Any communication from Zion?"

"Eleazar had a letter demanding the delivery of the package. Or redelivery, I suppose."

"We have yet to decide how to make that happen. Considering the ambush from the previous drop, none of us are eager to stick our necks out again."

Kiernan spoke up. "Why did they send the request to Eleazar instead of you?"

"The back channels are the same," Garrett said. "The envelope had Eleazar Denali typed out, but the salutation on the letter was addressed to Edward Cullen."

"Strange, don't you think?" Kiernan said. 

"All they've ever done is play with us," Bella pointed out. "This is nothing new."

"True." Edward stared into the empty black depths of the unlit fireplace. "So, Kiernan, do you have any specific ideas about the redelivery?"

Kiernan took a second to respond. "Well, we could go back to the warehouse and simply drop it off."

"Without knowing who's lying in wait?" Jake asked. "Been there, done that."

"Got the scars to prove it," Bella mumbled. 

Kiernan said, "That's the only idea I had, but feel free to come up with something of your own."

Edward understood the underlying message. The agency was out of ideas. Interesting, since it was their idea to bring the bomb back after the disaster of a drop. Edward wasn't even sure what Holden had done with the thing. "Considering what Zion plans to do with the bomb and that they intend to kill us either way, maybe we'll just hold on to it a little longer."

"Why would we do that?" Jasper asked. 

"Leverage. They don't know where the bomb is, so they can't kill us all without losing what they so desperately needed us to find and we now possess. And they can’t blow up the world without the bomb. I do believe the ball is in our court—or the bomb is in our court."

"That's a dangerous game to play."

Edward faced the room, locking eyes with Bella. "The entire game is dangerous. Every single thing about this game has been dangerous from the get go. There's nothing we can do to change that."

"Right, and this isn't about you stopping me from going in there by never delivering the package in the first place. They’ll simply find another bomb, and then they’ll wipe us all out for defying them. You've chosen to risk all our lives so you can control me."

It pained him to hear the anger in her voice. "That's not what this is. We need to decide on a new drop off time and location where we can have the upper hand."

Her lips thinned to a fine line as she tucked them between her teeth. 

When she didn't reply, he tried to focus on someone else. Anyone else. "Quinn, do you have a suggestion?"

After staring at his mother for an inordinate amount of time, their oldest responded, "Give them what they want. Wipe our hands clean of this mess. See what we can do to save our asses when the time comes for them to detonate the antimatter bomb."

Swallowing thickly, Edward wondered if Quinn was smarter than them all. "We haven't found a sufficient bunker. We're not important enough to have access to something bomb proof."

"Maybe we call up the pentagon, give them a friendly heads up." Emmett scratched the back of his head. "Ask politely if we can room with the president."

Seamus snorted. "Yeah, that's how that works." 

"Boss."

Automatically, Edward glanced up at Phil standing in the living room's entrance. "Yes?"

"We have a major issue at the gate."

Everyone moved at once. Through years of training, they knew where to go in an emergency. Most headed to the kitchen in case they'd have to hide in the basement. Jasper, Emmett, Ben, Seamus, and Jake stood with Edward and the guards. Bella and the other women tended to split up; those uninterested in fighting moved to the kitchen while the others hid in the hallway in case they were needed in an ambush. 

"Who is it?" Edward demanded as everyone dispersed. 

Phil replied, "She said her name is Mrs. Demov. She's here to represent Zion."

"She's alone?" Jasper asked, pulling his gun and checking the magazine.

"Wait, I know that name." Kiernan pulled out his cell phone, tapping away on the screen. "Yes, it's Gianna. She married Nikolai Demov, Ivan's man."

Edward frowned. "She's here to represent Zion in what manner?"

"She wouldn't say, sir. She appears to be alone, unless there’s a car hiding on the road, and she's unarmed. But she's unwilling to leave until she's spoken to you personally."

For half a second, Edward chewed on his cheek. "Let her in. She comes no farther than the front steps until I have the chance to assess the situation."

"Boss, are you sure—"

Ben cut off when Edward glared at him.

The men made their way outside, watching the black sedan crawl up the curved front driveway and stop at the steps. A woman emerged, someone Edward had never met but knew from photographs. He was once engaged to her, after all. 

"Edward."

"Gianna."

Wearing all black and hiding her hair under a scarf, Gianna epitomized the part of a Russian mafia wife. She removed her giant sunglasses, revealing poorly concealed black eyes.

Inwardly, Edward winced. Outwardly, he remained stoic. "What brings you here?"

Gianna tilted her head to stare at the mansion's façade; a bit longingly, if Edward were to hazard a guess. 

She met his gaze. "I'm the reason Zion targeted you."

If she expected a gasp of revelation, she would be disappointed. "And?"

"You knew?"

"It's not that hard to find the players in the game," Ben responded. "When you're a computer guy."

"Why though?" Emmett asked. 

Gianna took several steps closer. Nobody moved; nobody saw her as a threat. "Once upon a time, a vastly different future was laid out for me. My mother would tell me every night how I would become the most influential woman in Seattle as soon as you and I married."

Edward scoffed. "Your mother is delusional."

Tears wavered on her lashes. "Why did you break your promise?"

"I never made a promise. My father and your father worked something out. Once I took over the business, I made my own decisions."

"Because of you, I've spent every day for the past eighteen years perfecting the best way to cover bruises with makeup!"

She wasn't doing that good of a job if he could still see them. He wanted to feel sorry for her, but he refused to fall into her trap. "How is that my fault?"

"Because you married some whore you accidentally knocked up instead of honoring our arrangement!"

"Be very careful about what next comes out of your mouth," Edward ground out through clenched teeth. "Blame your parents, not me and my wife."

She moved forward again. "Without you, I had no choices. My mother forced me to marry a monster for the money and prestige after you killed my father. I was in love with you and you threw me away!"

Stunned at her stupidity, Edward shouted, "We've never even met! You were never in love with me, you were in love with the idea of me."

As Gianna picked up her foot to stand in Edward's face, Seamus stepped between them. "You're utterly mad, you are. You've made your bed, now bang what crawls into it."

Through her tears, Gianna screamed, "You deserve to feel at least a fraction of the misery I've gone through!"

"I can't help you. I never could. Get the fuck off my property."

As Edward turned to go inside, Gianna had one last thing to say. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I can make this all go away."

Living Room

Seamus

Kiernan

Gianna