Chapter 295: ID. (1)

[Edward POV]

"You want a short escape to clear your mind. We're similar in that way. But you can't sail by yourself since you don't have a license, so you'll need someone to go with you." My dad said through the phone call.

"I'll ask Dwayne if he can do it," I mumbled.

"Or I can do it," he suggested.

"You have two trips today. Don't play hooky. Do your work properly," I admonished him. As I stepped into the living room, I was surprised to find someone sitting on my couch.

"Why are you here?" I asked, taken aback. "Should I call the cops and tell them there's an exhibitionist inside my house?"

Brenda Song grinned as she stood up and walked giddily toward me. "You're finally back! I've been waiting anxiously for you!" She grabbed my arm and jumped slightly, pushing her body closer to mine.

Taken aback, I moved my head back slightly and shot her a weird glare. "What are you doing? Also, answer my question first."

Vanessa ran into the living room, shouting triumphantly, "I found my… um," She waved a black lacy bikini in the air before hurriedly hiding it behind her back upon seeing me. "Ma– MAGGIE…um, give me the key." She forced out an explanation. 

Although I already realized that Vanessa had let Brenda inside, Brenda answered my question. "She let me in to wait for her to get ready. We're going to a party! P.A.R.T.Y! A grand! Luxurious! Elegant! PARTY!"

I chuckled a bit at Brenda's energetic reply. She kept holding my arm throughout all of it. Suddenly, she turned to me, leaning in closer; she had to look up as she was almost a foot shorter than me. "I hoped I would run into you. Do you still have the chocolates from your party? Or do you have the number for the vendor? I want to bring some of those to the party I'm going to."

Finally understanding her intention, I chuckled and said, "Ah, that. Sorry. Even I can't decipher what's in that chocolate, so there's no way to replicate it."

"Really? You didn't add any drugs or anything?" Brenda asked, confusion and disappointment evident in her voice.

I shook my head and chuckled. "Do you really think I'm an idiot enough to drug everyone at the party? I'm not Diddy."

Brenda suddenly froze, and Vanessa approached us after hiding her bikini in her bag. Having only heard the last part of the conversation, she grinned and said, "Oh, how did you know we're going to Diddy's party?"

My eyes widened in shock and I turned to Vanessa, "You're going there? Why?"

Vanessa was confused, "Is there something wrong?"

Brenda caught on, but she was way off the mark. "You want to come to the party too? I can get you in!"

I shuddered and shook her hand away. "I'm NEVER going to a Diddy party. Not after I know what happens there."

Brenda giggled, dismissing my concerns. "What are you talking about? Let's go together! It's the hottest party in Hollywood! Everyone our age wants to get in!"

I held Brenda's shoulder and looked into her eyes. She became bashful at first. "Why are you touching my arm?"

"Do you know what happens there? And who invites you?" I asked seriously. Brenda looked shocked at first before mumbling, "One of the executives at Disney. He said he wants to get to know me better."

"Well, you better block that guy from your contacts and never get involved with him," I warned her earnestly. Vanessa, puzzled, asked, "Ed? What happens there? Why are you so spooked?"

I released Brenda's shoulder and turned to Vanessa. "And you! You're at the center of an ongoing movement right now. Do you really think it's a good idea to go to a party?"

Vanessa was flabbergasted. "I'm going to ask you first! If you said no, then I won't go!"

"Who am I, your father? Why do you need my permission?" I shot back.

Vanessa looked bewildered, her mind short-circuiting. "THEN WHAT THE HELL SHOULD I DO?"

I disarmed her concern with a casual tone. "Well, you should know what happens over there first and make the decision for yourself. First of all, let's talk about the baby oil and its functions…"

I took ten minutes to explain what could happen at a Diddy party—everything from drugged-up, nonconsensual sex to being blackmailed into signing contracts. I shared everything Eminem had warned me about and explained why no one did anything about it, and how deep those issues really go.

As I spoke, Brenda and Vanessa's faces grew paler. "Oh my god! That's so scary!" Vanessa exclaimed, rushing to hug me for comfort. Our bodies bumped for a moment, but she quickly released me, stepping back and looking at me with disgust.

Confused, I turned to Brenda, who hugged me next, but the same thing happened again. "Save me, prince—wait," she gasped excitedly. "Did you have a boner?"

"What? No, I don't!" I replied, bewildered.

"Really? Because I swear I felt something hard!" Brenda teased. "AND TINY!" She burst into laughter.

I checked my pants and pulled out a pill case from my pocket. "You mean this?"

Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief. "AH! Thank GOD! I really thought you were a freak who got turned on by messed-up stuff."

Flabbergasted, I asked in disbelief, "WHAT?!"

"I don't believe it!" Brenda hugged me again, trying to confirm. "Yeah, he's not hard. But it feels quite big—"

"Get off me." I pushed her away with a grimace. "Go on, go to the party. I don't care. I'm going to play on my boat." I turned and walked away from the giggling girls.

Vanessa whispered to Brenda, "Is it really?"

"Yup. Um, So, I guess we shouldn't go to the party," Brenda said, slightly disappointed.

"Of course we shouldn't! Or Ed will actually kill Diddy," Vanessa replied.

Brenda scowled at the delusional Vanessa. "He protected you once. He won't kill a guy for you. Besides, aren't you two friends?"

Vanessa looked taken aback and embarrassed. She decided to change the topic. "Wait. Ed said he's going yachting. So he's taking his ship out?"

As I entered my room, I checked the label on the pill bottle I was holding. It was an anti-anxiety medication that Linda had prescribed for me. I popped a couple into my mouth and swallowed them.

"Diddy, huh? That was surprising," I mumbled to myself before taking a sip of water. The pills worked quickly, and I felt a bit better already. I could finally listen to what my body was telling me: it needed food and some rest.

"I'll just sleep on the boat and make it an overnight trip," I muttered before calling out to my personal assistant. "Robin, can you notify Pepper and Harvey? Tell them I'm going to stay on my ship tonight."

"Sure thing, sir," Robin replied. "Should I contact some staff to prepare refreshments for you on your trip?"

"I think I'll just pick up some pizzas," I replied casually while packing my toothbrush and a change of clothes. Robin chimed in, "Sir Saltzman said, 'About time! Go and enjoy yourself!' He also texted you to bring some friends with you."

"I—"

Before I could finish, my perimeter alarm sounded. Robin immediately pulled up the footage of an intruder scaling the seaside cliff to reach my house. "Should I launch the defensive missiles, sir?" she asked in a cold tone.

I recognized the figure and relaxed a bit. "Nah, don't worry. I know her." It was Agent Sarah Walker from the CIA, Chuck's partner. She had crashed a party before and owed me a favor after I helped her escape.

I returned to the living room, but before I could face Sarah, Vanessa and Brenda stopped me in my tracks. Brenda asked, "You have a yacht?"

"Yeah," I replied curtly.

Brenda was momentarily speechless before asking, "You couldn't piece together what's going on here?"

"I can, but I don't want to bring you," I said casually.

Brenda gasped, offended by my words. "WOW! There are two cute girls here who want to enjoy the evening with you, and you reject them before they can even—"

"If you want to come, it's an overnight trip," I interjected, which made Vanessa's eyes widen. "Really?" she asked.

Brenda was excited. "Woo-hoo! Party on a yacht! Can I invite more people?"

"No," I replied, dampening her enthusiasm. She pouted and inched closer to me, poking my arm flirtatiously. "Can I really not invite anyone? It's too bad partying with just the three of us."

"And if I let you, what's in it for me?" I flirted back, holding her chin and forcing her to gaze into my eyes. Brenda was taken aback, and even Vanessa looked surprised. But then Brenda became excited. "Well, we can talk about that later. It is an overnight trip, after all—"

Vanessa immediately pushed Brenda away and looked at me with concern. "Ed? Are you feeling okay? Should I get a doctor to check on you?"

"Huh?" I was confused. "Why do they need to check up on me?"

Vanessa stammered before replying, "You know, um, lately you seem—um, how should I say this? Like there's a wall around you. You won't let anyone in. You didn't flirt at all—with anyone! Not me… and you've been brooding all the time."

"I did?" I was shocked by her observation. Vanessa nodded, and I started to see it when I remembered what the last few weeks had been like. 

'Did my anxiety really change my personality that much? Is it really that easy to fix, just with a couple of pills?' Complicated thoughts swirled in my mind.

"Now, it seems more like the 'you' I knew from the beginning." Vanessa giggled. I scowled and said, "Go pack up. I have a guest now, climbing through the cliff. You shouldn't see her face otherwise she'll tranq you."

Vanessa and Brenda giggled, thinking that I was joking. But, when they saw my serious face, their expression froze.

"For real?" Vanessa asked.

I nodded casually, "Yeah, CIA. I really thought you guys had left. So, just hide somewhere, and make sure not to peek at any of it."

"Stop joking–" Before Brenda could finish her words, Vanessa clung to her arm and pulled her away quickly. Brenda said with disbelief, "Wait! He's not for real right?"

"It's real! R.E.A.L! Real!" Vanessa said, and for the first time ever, I saw her act like an entitled rich girl, which made me chuckle a bit.

"Come on up, Agent Walker," I called toward the balcony facing the sea. A woman wearing a black leather jacket and ski mask climbed over the railing after scaling the 50-meter cliff without any climbing gear.

Sarah panted slightly as she crouched on the floor, then removed her mask. "How did you know it was me?"

"I saw some blonde hair sticking out from the mask, and I recognized your eyes and teeth," I replied, taking a seat on the couch and pulling out a bottle of Euphoria and a bottle of whiskey hidden in the compartment. I packed three Euphoria bottles into my bag as I was planning to bring them on the trip.

"So, you finished your novel?" I asked her teasingly. Sarah suddenly held up her arm, gesturing for me to stop talking. "Can you give me a second… to catch my breath and reevaluate my skills as an agent? I really didn't think I could be recognized just by that."

I poured drinks for both of us, adding the Euphoria solution for flavor enhancement. "Don't feel bad," I said, shaking my hand dismissively. "That's not a lack of skill; it's just tremendous luck."

"Oh, how so?" Sarah asked, finally standing up.

I shrugged. "If I hadn't recognized you, you'd be dead already. Falling off the cliff while trying to rob my house would be a clean way to cover it all up."

Sarah was momentarily speechless, her heart racing as she realized how close she had come to death during what she thought would be an easy mission.

"Here, to help you calm down." I handed her the whiskey.

"Thanks." She quickly accepted it and took a drink. Her eyes widened in euphoria, even though she was trained to handle literal poison. It took about five seconds for her to recollect herself.

"What's in this drink?" she asked, shocked.

"It's something I cooked up," I replied dismissively. "Can you not waste my time? I'm trying to go on a trip."

"Oh, right." Sarah reached into her backpack and pulled out a stack of papers. "The favor. My top ten most interesting missions as a spy. I changed the names to protect the parties involved, but the rest is true."

The trio who had infiltrated my house before—Chuck, Casey, and Sarah—were all blackmailed into owing me a favor. I had used Chuck's favor to stop a party, and Sarah and Casey played their parts since Chuck was a civilian.

For Sarah, I had asked her to compile some of her missions so I could understand what a real spy's experience is like.

"You know you can't release that," Sarah said with concern as I began to read the papers. "That would be treason, and I'd be hunted down."

"Don't worry. I'll burn it all after I read it. I just want to know what it's like to plan for the next Black Widow movie."

"For a movie?" Sarah asked, disbelief evident in her voice.

"Yeah—" I looked up and asked her, "Did Chuck read these and approve them?"

"No, he didn't. Why?" Sarah asked, confused.

"It's a mess, to be honest. You can take it back home and work on it with Chuck. He's watched a lot of movies, so he'll understand what I'm talking about." I handed the papers back to her.

Frazzled, Sarah accepted the papers. "Um, I—"

"Now that that's out of the way, why don't you tell me the real reason you're here?" I asked, crossing my legs and leaning back on the couch. Sarah's eyes widened slightly as she took out a USB drive.

"I'm actually here to ask for your help," she said, her face turning serious. "We need to crack the password-protected file on this drive, but it'll take too long for us. The person asking you for the favor is in dire straits. He can't hold the line much longer."

"Stop talking in riddles," I interjected, my tone flat. "But let me be clear: I'm not interested. What's in it for me?"

She tried to reason, "He's someone in a high position in the government. Him owing you a favor won't be detrimental."

"Oh, I would strongly disagree," I replied, my gaze steady as I sipped my whiskey. "Given that he's in a precarious situation—let's say there are individuals targeting him for his position or even his life—if it were to come out that I assisted him, I would become a target as well."

I continued, "So why would I involve myself with an anonymous man who MAY owe me a favor when I would undoubtedly find myself in a perilous situation by stepping into this mess?"

Before she could respond, I added, "I'm sorry, Agent Walker. I've had enough of dangerous situations for one day." I made my rejection clear.

Sarah lowered her hand in disappointment. "It might be too dangerous for you after all. I understand what you're saying. I won't push the matter anymore."

"The door is on the right. If you choose to jump from the balcony, make sure you have your parachute," I said, finishing my drink. As I walked away, I paused and called out, "Wait."

Sarah had started to open her paraglider but stopped abruptly. "Yes?"

"He's not the President, is he? Because if he is, I have a moral obligation to help him." I asked casually, my expression unchanged.

Sarah faced an internal struggle, her eyes shifting left and right as she weighed her words. Finally, she said, "I can't answer that, but you MAY be RIGHT!" Her insinuation confirmed my suspicion.

"Fuck," I cursed. "There's a USB port next to the TV. Plug it in." I instructed her. Sarah perked up and rushed to connect the USB before I could change my mind. Robin immediately began decrypting it while Sarah attempted to explain the protection.

"It's a 16-digit password protection, and—"

Before she could finish, I interjected, sitting on the couch and pulling out a keyboard from seemingly nowhere, using the 100-inch TV as my screen. "Oh, it's useless to crack it."

Sarah looked surprised and disappointed. "You can't do it either?"

"Not that I can't crack the password. The file you gave me is a copy of a copy, right? It's empty. There's nothing inside, even if I manage to crack it," I replied casually, pulling the USB from the port.

This thing was riddled with malware and viruses, meaning every computer the CIA used to crack the code would be rendered useless. Fortunately, Robin managed to catch every single one of them. Nothing could get through her defenses. The USB was like a driveway filled with dirt, and she pressure-washed everything in seconds.

"What?!" Sarah exclaimed, shocked. "It doesn't allow copying." I explained a bit.

"Bring the original if you want me to crack it," I told her, tossing the USB back. 

Then, I advised her, "You'd better get rid of every laptop you plugged that USB into. They have programs that can track it and malware that allows them to take control. Any data on those devices is now compromised. I've cleaned this one, so you can understand what I'm talking about when you check it later."

…

Sarah paraglided away after promising to bring me the original. I told her not to try too hard, but I doubted she'd listen. Vanessa and Brenda finally emerged from the room after Sarah had left. They had tried to eavesdrop and even opened the door to peek, but Robin had locked them inside to prevent that.

When we reached the garage, Vanessa asked, "Is Maggie coming?"

"I hope not," I replied, placing my bag in the trunk. Vanessa blushed slightly before saying, "So this is a hookup trip–?" She tried to play off the sentence, but I didn't let it.

"Where did you get that idea?" I asked flirtatiously.

Vanessa responded bashfully, "You don't want your family there. Um, not with me, right?"

She seemed a bit hopeful, but she also knew I wouldn't hook up with my employees… anymore. It was just too stressful.

"Yeah," I said, causing disappointment to wash over her. "Brenda?" Vanessa asked in a whisper.

"Yes?!" Brenda suddenly interjected, surprising Vanessa. "Ed, if I can't invite a lot, how about just three?" she asked eagerly. I didn't reply but simply stared at her. Brenda tried to haggle, "TWO! Just TWO! They're my best friends!"

"Sure, if they can be here in an hour," I told her with a helpless sigh.

"Great!" Brenda exclaimed enthusiastically. "But Maggie will be really mad if we don't invite her," Vanessa whispered.

"It's fine," I replied casually. "Right, I'll see you at the yacht." I told the duo as we took separate cars. I went to pick up ten boxes of pizzas and some beers for myself. I was planning to relax.

However, when I arrived, I was surprised to see the number of people on my yacht. There were at least twenty people partying inside—mostly girls. Britney's song blared through the speakers as the girls danced in their bikinis, doing shots and playing games.

Dwayne looked helpless as he explained the situation to me. "I was skeptical at first, but Miss Brenda said YOU planned the party."

Brenda noticed me and walked over with a slightly worried smile. "Don't be mad. They were all going to Diddy's party, so when I told them what you said—don't worry, I didn't say your name—they needed somewhere to go."

"So you brought them here? On a trip where I just want to relax and clear my mind?" I asked in disbelief. Brenda chuckled nervously. "All of them said they know you. Don't worry—at the rate they're partying, they'll all pass out in a couple of hours, so you'll have the night to yourself."

"That's not really reassuring," I muttered. But for some reason, I didn't find the situation entirely repulsive. "Alright. Just make sure they know it's not some yachting thing. It's just a simple party."

"Alright—" Brenda turned to declare it but paused, looking confused. "What's a yachting thing?"

"Oh, that's another degenerate scene where rich guys invite celebrity girls onto their yachts and do messed-up things with them. They pay the girls at the end. It's basically an escort gig," I explained.

"Really? Damn, I really live in a well. How much do they pay, exactly?" Brenda seemed a little too interested, so I pushed her face away. She didn't expect it and giggled before heading off to explain the situation to her friends.

Before long, Dwayne moved the ship out of the harbor, and we started our trip.