Once again, Edward was back to having a committee deciding what steps he took next. He couldn't charge out there and meet with Dylan on his terms; instead, he had to wait until everyone had hashed out a plan, talking ad nauseam about safety and secrets.
Since Stephen was in charge of transportation, he procured a limo with a heavily tinted divider between the front and back portions. Tapping his fingers on his knee, Edward waited in the back for the reporter to show up. He’d sent her instructions on where to find the car and to enter through the back passenger side door. Facing the back window, he waited for her arrival with zero patience.
Finally, he saw her approach. After the mistake of assuming she was a male, he’d done some research so he knew what to look for. Her byline picture was a few years old, but she basically appeared the same. Her hair hung to her waist, twisted into intricate braids and gathered at the nape with a colorful scarf. She wore sunglasses big enough to cover her face, so he couldn't make out her facial features.
As instructed, she entered the back and sat across from him. When she took off the sunglasses, her eyebrows rose over deep chocolate eyes. “Planning to rob a bank later?”
Resisting the urge to touch the balaclava obscuring his face, he replied, “Some monsters prefer to hide in the dark. Besides, all the Phantom of the Opera masks were taken.”
Dylan smiled slightly, shifting the folder she held and offering her phone to him. “I regularly check for bugs, but I’ll give it to you anyway.”
Taking the phone, he scanned it himself, satisfied she was telling the truth. “Do I need to have you searched, or should I assume we’re on the same team?”
“For all you know, I could be recording this entire conversation in case anything ugly happens to me.” Resting her hands in her lap, she waited for his response without further comment.
“You’re not my target.” Moreover, Stephen had signal blockers and scramblers temporarily installed in the limo, so anything she tried to record would sound garbled. But she didn’t have to know that.
“After this conversation, I’ll text the pictures I have to your phone. Along with proof of the affair, we have discovered that Derrick Blithers is accepting money to an untraceable foreign bank account under a pseudonym. Regular payments, way too much money for the position he holds, and coming from an as-yet untraced account.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s pretty damn serious. If he’s being bribed, then who is he blackmailing?”
“Since the pictures we found are of him and Vice President Barrett’s daughter, it’s entirely possible Blithers has dirt on him.”
“Wouldn’t that be the story of the decade?” she murmured.
“Congratulations, I guess, on becoming a star.”
“But I can't leak pics of the vice president’s daughter without having my head served to me on a platter.”
“One could argue she's a public figure.” Though he realized she had a point, he wouldn't allow this to be swept under the rug. If Dylan wasn’t prepared to help, he’d find someone else.
“No, her father is the public figure. However, I'll either use a pseudonym or blur her face when I drop the pictures on the internet.”
“Blurring her face would negate the purpose of the leak.”
“Not necessarily. Just being a cheating asshole would destroy his reputation.”
Leaning forward, Edward clasped his hands between his knees. “I need more than simply destroying his reputation. I need to see his entire life in ruins.”
“What's it to you, anyway?” Dylan leaned forward as well. “Why do you care if he fucks someone who’s not his wife?”
“It goes much deeper than that. All the dirt you’ve found so far is child's play compared to what I know.” His knuckles tightened. “The man was arrogant enough to touch what's mine, and I cannot allow that to go unpunished.”
She shivered visibly. “When you say it that way . . . you sound dangerous. How do I know you won’t target me next?”
Leaning back, he stretched his arms across the seat. “It’s simple, Ms. Anderson. You’re an innocent, and I would never touch an innocent. Unlike Director Blithers, who sees little children as targets for revenge.”
Her jaw dropped open. “Who are you?”
“Just think of me as the devil. As long as you don’t cross me, you have nothing to worry about.” Sensing she was ready to flee his presence, he handed her phone back to her.
“My desire to ruin a corrupt man outweighs whatever issues you have going on.” Scooting closer to the door, Dylan turned back at the last minute. “Do you have a wife?”
Dipping his head, Edward replied, “Yes.”
“I sincerely hope she’s strong enough to endure your demons.”
Watching her exit the limo, Edward thought she was pretty fucking astute; a perfect trait for a reporter.
Since he promised, he sent the pictures to her phone, giving her twenty-four hours to figure out the best way to leak them.
In the meantime, Bella and Leah were posing as Tandee and Rowana again. Ripping off the mask, Edward put his earpiece back in to listen to their meeting.
“We focus on ensuring everyone has access to quality healthcare.”
“Noble work,” Leah murmured.
“We’re happy to have you both, honestly.” Natasha’s voice was now familiar to him, but he couldn't tell if she was sincere or not.
“And when is the next charity event scheduled?” he heard his wife ask.
A phone notification went off, quiet but audible. Then, several went off at the same time, and Edward’s eyebrows went up.
Dylan Anderson worked fast.
There were gasps, plenty of murmurs, and then Natasha trying to get their attention.
“Ladies, we’re in the middle of a meeting. Why does everyone have their phones out?”
“Oh, the pitying glances,” Bella whispered. “Brutal.”
“Who is that—what the fuck?” Natasha screamed.
“Oops,” Leah said. “Looks like the meeting is over.”
“Get that off your phones! Don't you dare save that! There must be a mistake, Derrick would never—”
“Mrs. Blithers—”
“Take your hand off me!”
“Please, Tash, maybe we should get some air.”
“I don't need air, I need answers!”
The shouting quieted down, and Edward sent a text to Bella asking if it was safe for the two of them to meet up with him.
He waited for fifteen minutes, and then they climbed in the back of the limo.
“That was interesting,” Leah said.
“She was rightfully furious,” Bella said, stretching her back and pressing closer to her husband. “I hate to hurt her in this process.”
“Can’t be helped.” Edward tapped on the glass so Stephen would head back to the safe house.
“I think the payments must be connected to the VP,” Bella said. “Natasha spoke of Andrew Barrett often, touting his generous donations to her charities and all that.”
“Wouldn't be surprised if he visits them at home. Pretends to be a normal friend.” Edward thought back to the mess in the PEOC a few years ago and how the president had been reelected shortly thereafter.
“I can see the gears turning,” Bella said. “What are you thinking?”
“What if the whole thing with Zion wasn’t their plan, but ours?”
“Ours who?” Leah asked.
“The US. The politicians and the bureaucrats.”
Bella linked her fingers with his, resting their hands on her knee. “You mean Barrett setting it up so he could take over?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean.”
“Well, fuck.”
They waited until they’d returned to share their thoughts with the others. Holden, Wilhelm, Dara and Ben, Jasper, Jake, Emmett, and as many mercs as were present all gathered in the dining room. Seamus walked in a few minutes later, sending a pointed look at Edward.
“The pictures have dropped, and Mrs. Blithers is understandably devastated.”
“Wait until they’re in the same room alone,” Seamus said. “Maybe she’ll kill him and save us all the trouble.”
“It would be too merciful.” Sensing that Seamus had something to say, Edward met his gaze and kept it.
Clearing his throat, Seamus said, “I think we should contact Tito and use him as a mole.”
“What the actual fuck?” Bella snarled.
Seamus held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Dead serious, cousin. They brought his arse into the fold, did they not?”
“That’s the info I have,” Dwayne confirmed. “They didn't exactly reprimand him, rather they gave him a cushy desk job.”
“Seems fair,” Edward muttered.
Holden spoke up. “I can reach out, get a feel for where his loyalties lie. Pretty sure the answer is with whoever has the most money.”
“So now I have to pay that chuckle fuck an exorbitant sum to buy his loyalty, after all he did to me?” Bella demanded.
“As much as I hate to say it, yes, I believe so.” Holden dodged Bella’s flying fist right before Edward snatched her up.
“Easy, tigress,” he mumbled in her ear. “We still need him.”
“Like it or not,” Ben said, “I think it’s the best option if we want info on what’s going on inside the office.”
“That’s all I want from him,” Holden said in defense. “Not to make best friends or to expect much from him.”
“Updates on how much Blithers is freaking out would be perfect,” Jasper said. “We haven’t had any luck hacking into their mainframe.”
“That’ll take more time than I think you want to give this,” Dara said.
“Fine, whatever. Make him a millionaire.” Turning on her heel, Bella left the room.
Edward didn’t follow; not yet, at least. “Clearly, Dylan can follow through on her promises. The pictures are all over social media, and she didn’t blur the faces. She just created a fake profile.”
“Blithers will blame the girl,” Nigel said. “No doubt about it.”
Emmett said, “She knew the risk she was taking when she got involved with him.”
“Then Barrett will be breathing down Derrick’s neck.” Jasper rubbed his hands together. “Two birds, one stone.”
“Speaking of which.” Edward looked at each of them in turn. “I believe Barrett hired Zion to take down the president so he could conveniently step into the highest political position in the country.”
“Oh, that makes perfect sense.” Dwayne grabbed a laptop, typing in a few things before speaking again. “We need to prove that too.”
“We’re in agreement then. Blithers and Barrett both go down?”
“Once we have the proof.” Jake shrugged when Edward glared at him. “Your gut feeling isn’t proof.”
“Then get me what I need,” Edward snapped.
He left them to figure out their next move, finding Bella upstairs removing her makeup.
“I don’t even get a chance with the blonde, huh?” Stepping up behind her, he kissed her neck. “Too bad.”
“That didn’t seem to bother you when you were fucking me yesterday. You left marks, if you need to feel like a brutish conqueror.”
“Show me.”
She removed the dress she’d worn while posing as someone else. Fuck, her entire body was covered in bruises. Considering the way she’d been beaten in the fight, he was surprised she didn’t have more. They were in various shades and hues, but they’d both pretended they didn't exist. For him, it was because the man who put them there was dead. He had no one to punish, no outlet for the rage he felt when he saw her perfect skin so badly marred. For her, it was surely to forget about the horror. The trauma. As she’d had to do so many times in her life—since he came into her life, he corrected himself—she’d done what she had to in order to save herself.
Fortunately, she was damn good at it.
He’d never wanted her to become a killer, but it was inevitable in their world. Maybe once they had the answers they needed, they could have the peaceful life they’d worked toward.
For the time being, he found the mark she referred to behind her ear. Pressing his mouth to it, he kissed it gently. “Mine,” he growled in her ear.
It seemed she couldn't resist him, because he caught her smiling.
“I know how much it sucks to consider relying on Tito, but it might be the only chance we get to infiltrate the CIA offices.”
“Considering that the rest of us are supposedly dead?”
“Yeah, that.”
Trusting that dipshit not to blow their cover might be a risk. Holden was presumed dead along with the mercs and the Cullens, and now he would reach out to the man they’d sent packing.
“We’ll send an anonymous email.”
Bella nodded. “That’s a good start. Offer him untold amounts of money to be the slimy sneak. After all, it comes naturally.”
“Exactly.” Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her neck again. “For now, we have to figure out how to feed a houseful of ghosts.”
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| Dylan Anderson |
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| Signal Scrambler |
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| Seamus |
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