A/N While we were writing and betaing this chapter, The Red Fairy and I were listening to a lot of Florence and The Machine. I can definitely recommend combining the two.

There's not really much else to say except I think this is the longest chapter yet, so hopefully it speaks for itself. Hope you all like it.

Chapter 9

My eyes traced Bella's movements as she slipped effortlessly between groups huddled in the overstuffed green room. Nothing brought out the networking focused, money hungry corporate masses like fight night at Madison Square Garden. I could see people, scratch that, men, turning to watch as she walked by but she seemed oblivious to it, focused entirely on her goal to intercept Jasper from the animated conversation he was having with a gaggle of reporters.

No matter how insufferable I knew those people were, Bella never faltered, or seemed bored. It was fascinating to watch her work. Infuriating that I couldn't be close to her. The constant flashes of eye contact, the narrowing distance between us since I had entered the room were tantalizing. Promising something more that I knew couldn't happen here.

So I stood in the corner, grateful that the crowds of people keeping me from Bella were at least also unwittingly shielding me from having to talk to various members of my family. I had been trying to avoid them since I walked into the room, but I was acutely aware of where they all were. They knew I was there too, of course. From the moment I had walked in, we had been locked in some kind of awkward 'glance and look away' game of tag. My attention shifted to Carlisle, currently standing on the far side of the room talking to a sponsor. It seemed that no matter where I looked, one of them was in that part of the room.

In case the last hour hadn't been proof enough, I knew that things were still unbelievably tense between us all. Mainly due to the fact that I still hadn't seen or spoken to any of my family since before the Sports Monthly article fiasco. Bella assured me that they didn't believe I had said everything printed, but I was sure enough doubt lingered in their minds, calling into question what I might have said.

But now I had more to worry about than just the article. Bella's warnings about Congrea had been easy to shake off at the time, when my focus was on trying to get under her layers of clothing, but in the cold light of morning they had started to take hold. I had to admit that I was beginning to doubt Aro, to question his insistence at keeping me busy all the time.

Yet the very fact that he did keep me busy all the time made it difficult to think that through to any conclusion.

If it were possible, I was now spending even more time with Marcus than ever. Aro was luring me in with the promise that if I won my next bout, he would move the rest of the guys Marcus looked after on to other trainers, making me his sole focus.

It was too much to try and get my head around, so I returned my attention to more immediate concerns; Bella. I was under too much scrutiny from my family to make any move towards her, but I was itching, after all this time watching, to close the gap and slide my hands around her waist. Laugh at whatever she was laughing at, and make it clear to the guy currently, and blatantly, trying to chat her up that she was mine. And I was hers.

I longed for that more than anything, to be able to let everyone know that I belonged to her. I was sick of seeing articles referring to me as the perpetual bachelor. It was futile, though. I couldn't act on that need. My fingers curled around the edge of the table behind me in an attempt to tether me here, where I couldn't do anything stupid.

My grip tensed, painfully tight, around the molded plastic as I watched Jasper stroll over and sling his arm so casually around Bella's shoulders. She turned to look at him, smiling openly as he whispered something in her ear.

I knew that trying to take Jasper on wasn't a good idea, but I didn't care; every inch of me was yearning to be where she was. They were standing close enough that I barely had a chance to second guess the decision to approach, to wonder how Jasper would react, before I was standing beside them.

Jasper angled to face me with the same speed he exhibited in the ring, his body tensing. Bella drew in a sharp breath as Jasper's arm tightened around her shoulders, defensive. It took all my willpower to stop my hand from reaching out to shove his arm off her. The sharp need to be possessive flashed and dissipated, in its place all that was left was the pain of his response to me; the hurt settling deep within, twisting inside as I realized it had come to this, Jasper treating me as he would an opponent he faced off in the ring.

As if on cue, both Emmett and Carlisle emerged from the crowd on either side of us. I felt their presence there before I saw them, and waited for someone, probably Emmett, to reach out and try and calm me down. He usually made the first move to diffuse the situation. As I watched Jasper, the pain intensified, tightening its grip, as it became clear that no one was going to try and talk me down, as they so often had before.

I couldn't look at Jasper any more. The addition of Carlisle and Emmett had only added a layer of protectiveness to the silent rage already burning behind his eyes. I felt a sudden compulsion to call Jasper out on it, question why he felt like it was his job to stand between the family and any harm. It wasn't like he'd done such a great job of it in the past. I shook it off, knowing it wouldn't do any good. Jasper was who he was. I hoped that whoever broke the silence first wasn't him; because I was sure I wouldn't like what he'd have to say.

It occurred to me that I probably wasn't going to get a better chance to be the one to speak first, to actually take the initiative and explain myself. I ran my hand across the back of my neck and slowly sucked in a breath, trying to stay calm and work out how to begin.

"I…"

It was impossible; the words caught in my throat as I looked into Carlisle's eyes, full of guarded apprehension. We stared at each other for long seconds, but he broke first, his gaze sliding to look just past my shoulder, a flicker of uncertainty, of worry, as he tried to recover. I watched, looking for a bigger chink in his armor to appear, desperate to know what he really thought of me.

But there was nothing. It was clear he didn't care, his eyes settled on something over my shoulder, focusing on anything but his own son. As I stood there, trying to work out how to bring him back to me, his face contorted for just an instant into a sneer, at odds with his usual composure. It was my turn to waver, wondering at the object of his disdain.

"Ah, Carlisle! How nice to see you."

Aro sidled up next to me, extending his hand to Carlisle, who accepted the handshake with as much decorum as the situation required and no more, simply nodding in acknowledgment. Not to be deterred, Aro turned to me, clapping his hand on my shoulder with overplayed affection.

"Edward. You're looking excellent, my boy. Ready for tonight, I'm sure."

The addition of the endearment didn't go unnoticed, but I had learned that most of what Aro said didn't actually require a reply, so I settled for a single nod, unconsciously mirroring my father's response. I stepped aside under the guise of making room for our new company, passively forcing Aro's hand to slide from its position on my shoulder. Trying desperately to ease some of the growing tension I could feel emanating from Carlisle the more Aro spoke.

I wrapped my arms around my middle, responding self-consciously to the attention that seemed to be focused intensely on me, as everyone waited for me to say something.

The moment I felt Victoria's presence beside me, her hand snaking its way up my arm and wrapping around my elbow, I knew that the situation was just going to get worse. I had somehow become the unfortunate common link in a group of people that should probably never all be in the same room together.

"Well, this will certainly sell some papers tomorrow. I can just see it now: Cullen boys reunited."

Victoria looked up at me, leaning in and rubbing my arm affectionately, before turning to look at the rest of the group, her lips curling slightly at the edges in smug satisfaction. I followed her gaze to Bella, who was staring at my arm where my t-shirt sleeve met skin, where Victoria's fingers had shifted around my bicep.

"We were never not united." Those were the first words out of Emmett's mouth. I had to admire his indignation; it almost felt like he actually believed what he was saying.

I wanted to look at him, to see what he was really thinking. But I was too afraid at what I would see there, and I couldn't make myself look away from Bella. The conversation continued on around us while Bella watched Victoria attempt to lay claim to me and I watched Bella, hoping that no one else had noticed the exchange.

I tried to draw on some of the self-restraint I could have used earlier; to not reach out to her, the pull to be closer to her was overwhelming. I would have thrown aside all of the caution she so desperately clung to in that moment, just to be near her, without having to hide it from everyone.

Something shifted in Bella's eyes and it seemed, for a moment, like she might be on the verge of the same feeling. That this was too hard, not being able to show what we were, and what we wanted, that it was worse than any consequences.

Moments dragged on as I stared into her deep eyes, clear and bright, willing her to look back at me. All thought of the people standing, most likely arguing, around us disappearing.

Until I noticed Jasper look down at Bella's face, his eyes narrowed in confusion, registering the tension rolling off her, his arm still draped across her shoulders. He looked to see what had her so rattled, his attention halting along with hers at Victoria's fingers stroking my arm possessively. His head tilted back towards Bella, confirming his suspicions, before settling his gaze on me in silent recrimination. Resigned to my fate, I forced my eyes to meet his.

I thought I had felt the full weight of Jasper's disappointment when I left Cullen Gyms. I was wrong. Apparently there were even greater depths that I could sink to in his eyes.

Silently, I reached over and pried Victoria's fingers from my arm, stepping back, trying to find some neutral ground. My arms tightened around me as I tried to work my way back into the conversation, trying to make sure I knew what was being said about me. I wasn't falling into that trap again.

Unsurprisingly, Aro was speaking.

"Well, all three Cullen brothers fighting on the same card is a pretty momentous occasion. Hopefully it won't be the last. Although, I would hope next time it won't be against three other opponents?"

I chanced a quick glance at my brothers to see how they reacted to that. Jasper was still looking like he wanted to tear me apart, in some misguided need to defend Bella's honor, but Emmett, for a moment, actually looked like the idea made him physically ill, before he neutralized his expression.

Aro took everyone's hesitation as his opening to continue the assault.

"Although I hear Jasper's opponent has had a bit of a snafu at weigh in." He shook his head, sadly, as though actually commiserating with Jasper's plight. "Good to see you found a fill in at such sort notice. Shame it's not a number one contenders' match anymore though."

"He'll be number one by default." It was the first time Carlisle had weighed in since this debacle of a conversation started. Aro's mouth settled into what I recognized as his indulgent smile, he'd used it on me enough times that it was forever burned into my memory. I just hoped no one else noticed the falsity of his gesture.

"Oh yes, of course, as long as he wins his exhibition bout tonight. But I'm sure he can handle that." The emphasis couldn't be clearer; an exhibition fight would hardly be a proving ground for Jasper's worth as a number one contender.

"It would be a bit of an embarrassment if he loses though, right? That might cause the WBC to rethink the situation. You know. Come to think of it…"

I was actually, momentarily, impressed by how well Aro was pulling off the act that he was just thinking through the possibilities for the first time. In the end, the feeling lost out to the heavy dread of anticipation at where he was headed. The words were in my mind before they were out his mouth.

But then, they had been for weeks.

"…if my boy Edward wins here tonight I'd be very interested to see what the rankings are. We might find ourselves needing to talk about a new number one contenders' match. Just something to consider."

"No chance." Jasper ground the words out through clenched teeth, his arm finally dropping from Bella's shoulders before walking away. The sudden need to follow him, to make it right, was overwhelming, but I was stopped by Aro's heavy hand on my shoulder.

Carlisle gave me one hard look before slipping away through the crowd after Jasper, followed quickly by Emmett leading Bella off to talk to the press; a move that revealed the extent of his desperation for the conversation to be done.

And like that I was left, held in place by Aro's seemingly casual but firm grip, trying to decide if Jasper had meant that there was no chance I could get there or if, when I did, there was no chance he would fight.

Marcus slammed down the stool just in time for me to land on it. I leant back against the ropes in the corner, struggling to get my breath back. The seventh round had just ended and the situation was not looking good. Alec had spent the entire match resisting and countering everything I had thrown at him. He'd barely offered any offense himself but landed enough blows to keep him looking good for the judges.

"Damn it, Cullen, do I even need to tell you what you need to do in there?" Marcus was predictably disappointed.

"Focus?" I pushed out between breaths.

"Yes! So, by God, do it! If this goes to the 12th round, you're going home with your first defeat. He's looking tired so he's going to back off and stick to countering. I want you to get in close, real close. Work over the body but save your energy for the big hits up top. You want to win this? Swarm him, be faster, be stronger and get the KO."

Marcus was right about what would happen if the fight went to the scorecards; Alec's defense was so tight they'd undoubtedly award the match to him.

It was the first time I had fought in front of such a large crowd, and particularly one so fired up. But I knew it wasn't the sea of people that had been making the match difficult. In fact, I fed off the energy of the crowd. No, it was the presence of certain individuals in the audience that I couldn't stop thinking about. I was sure Carlisle would be watching, perhaps Jasper and probably Emmett but I wanted Carlisle to be watching. I wanted him to understand that he was wrong. To prove decisively that his disappointment, and his concern for me that I was still trying to understand, were misplaced.

The bell rang and I stepped out of the corner, dragging my mind back from Carlisle to Marcus' uncharacteristic mid-match advice. He had succeeded in fueling my performance with extra incentive, now all I needed to do was work out how to implement it.

Just as Marcus had predicted, Alec held back, matching my footwork as I advanced on him. Patiently waiting, he blocked my first barrage of blows to his midsection, his arms tightly deflecting the assault. I stepped back and faked a move to the right, moving back in to work the body over again.

The effort fell uselessly against his rock solid defense.

"Is that all you've got Cullen? You still taking measure of me before you reveal yourself, or you afraid of damaging those model good looks?" Alec sniggered into my ear, blocking three more punches as he wrapped my arms into a clinch.

I didn't respond, not wanting to give the smug prick the satisfaction of thinking his trash talking would have any effect on me.

Three more minutes of futile offense passed, only confirming Alec's mental if not physical dominance over me. I returned to my corner feeling dejected and nervous about what version of Marcus I would find there; the emotionally distant but wise Marcus that offered small pieces of encouragement or the emotionally distant, you're not worthy of either my time and vast encyclopedic knowledge Marcus. His first words made it clear it was the second of the two.

"Look Cullen, we've spoken about what you need to do here. Either do it or go home." The remainder of the minute passed wordlessly, as I tried to figure out exactly how I was going to achieve the knockout that Aro and Marcus believed was the key to my future.

The crowd surged, a small amount of Cullen chants could be just made out amongst the din of shouting. Maybe they were calling for my brothers, but I decided I'd take ownership of it regardless, drawing the energy in to fuel the next round.

Even though it meant bringing my brothers in too. I knew how they would approach this fight. Jasper would throw skill, discipline and technique to the wind and attempt to pound on his opponent until either Alec dropped or he did. Emmett would outclass him on all fronts, dominating in strength, skill and speed.

What I didn't know was what the fuck would I do? I was about to enter the ninth round of the fight and I still had no idea what kind of fighter I was.

The bell rang, the cheering from the crowd starting to build. They probably expected something big from this round and I didn't want to disappoint. Still unsure, I went straight into work on the body, throwing hooks at his midsection from both sides. Alec was prepared, as he had been for the previous eight rounds, smoothly blocked left and right.

"I wonder which Cullen I'll get next? Jasper? Or maybe I'll go straight to the real fighter in the family." Alec said between breaths. It was embarrassing how easily the bastard was predicting my moves, how well he knew where to hurt me.

I knew if I was going to get the upper hand, I had to let go of my frustrations, the uncertainties of my family, of Bella, and become emotionless. A void.

I focused on my breathing, shutting everything else out, relaxing into being empty of worry and fear, liberated. The screams of the crowd, always my source of energy, faded to background noise.

I dropped my arms slightly and held off a fraction, hoping to draw Alec out, moving in just enough to lure out an offensive blow. He took the bait, landing a cross to my right eye and an uppercut shot to the ribs. I didn't even feel them. I answered his blows with a series of strong jabs, one after the other like a chain of lightning. Once I started I couldn't stop, it was the closest I had come to how I felt when I fought Riley, but intensified by the absence of everything but purpose. I finished the blows with one critical uppercut, the kind that had behind it eight rounds of frustration and years of family drama, intensified by a new found will. Alec reeled backwards. They may as well have called the match then, there was no way he was coming back from that.

I didn't feel sorry for Alec, not in that moment, when I was divested of all my usual baggage. I couldn't have empathy for an opponent if I was going to pummel them until they couldn't stand up. I had all the tools to win the match; he was slower, weaker and dogmatic in his approach to defense. I had to use that to my advantage and finish it. For the first time since Vegas I didn't just think I could win, I knew that I would.

Marcus was right, just focus. The strategy I had been using all match hadn't been wrong, I had just lacked the instinct to finish it. A sense of decisiveness took over, for every punch he threw I was going to throw four times as many. I wouldn't relent. I would force him around the ring, I would dictate the pace and I would end it cleanly.

I stepped in close, so close he could have wrapped his arms completely around me as I discharged everything I had. Hooks to the body landed intermittently. As soon as he found my rhythm and his blocks became more regular, I started working on his head; jabs and crosses, the occasional uppercut all flew as fast as I could manage them.

Sensing something was wrong, and now completely silent, Alec attempted to move out of the center of the ring, to force me back. I stopped him at every attempt, throwing more punches, forcing my closeness. If my muscles were tired or aching I didn't notice. My focus was singular. Sharp. I went back to the body, this time he couldn't keep up as I landed multiple blows. I worked through Marcus' combos; nothing fancy, only relentless brutal repetition, every punch landing soundly. He was done. Without a second thought, I delivered a blow with such force I felt the reverberation through my arm as Alec fell to the canvas, unconscious.

The ref started the count but I continued to advance, completely at the mercy of my adrenaline. The shouting of the ref, barely audible over the crowd, eventually registered as he ordered me to return to my corner. The end of the 10-count cut through the haze and I realized that I had done it; I had succeeded in delivering what was expected of me. Surging up behind that rush was the realization of something new. Something traitorous, creeping its way into my mind for the first time since I had started boxing. What the fuck was I doing?

I looked around, dazed, slowly regaining my composure. The ref was holding my arm up, while the ring announcer proclaimed me the winner of the fight. I heard my name, but it seemed as though the words belonged to someone else, not me. The closer I moved to my goal, the further away I felt from what I wanted. The crowd was on their feet cheering wildly, but instead of wrapping myself in it, I felt embarrassed and mildly ashamed.

I had to get out. Marcus held the ropes for me as I exited the ring.

"Happy?" I asked, unsure, as always, of the response I would get. "More like Vegas right?"

"Hardly." Marcus replied with no further explanation. I could feel my jaw tighten in frustration. My win, coupled with the growing unease I was feeling about what I had achieved, meant that I wasn't in the mood for Marcus' curt dialogue.

"Do you think you could maybe quit throwing vague responses, steeped with hidden meanings, at me? I'm sick of it."

"Fine. In Vegas you fought a second rate boy. Someone pushed into the ring too fast, with not enough instinct to know what he was dealing with. Not that dissimilar to how you usually fight."

I chose to ignore that dig, grateful that Marcus was at least explaining himself for once.

"Tonight you fought someone with real defensive skill. What's more, after dancing around him and being completely shut out for eight rounds, you showed the killer instinct necessary to win and you decimated him within a round. How's it feel?"

"I'm not sure." And I really wasn't. The cold reality of what had just occurred hit me harder than anything Alec had thrown at me in the ring. I had won a number of victories, but defeating Alec had being different.

"That's your problem to deal with Cullen. Good job. You gave it some real heart out there tonight."

I tried to thank him, but all I could wonder was; if that was true, what did it say about my heart?

The journey down the concrete corridor to my dressing room was quiet, despite the buzz that still surrounded the arena following my victory. The crowd was primed for the show that Jasper was most likely about to put on for them. I for one was simply thankful that I didn't run into him as I reached the door of my personal dressing room, one of six that formed a u-shape around a corner at the far end of corridor.

Before slipping into the safety of my room, I couldn't help a brief look at the other doors, playing the guessing game of which door belonged to which boxer. The answer to which was Emmett's was answered for me, as he walked out the door opposite my own. He was getting prepared for his match, working tape around his right hand as he glanced down the hallway, before turning to me. I tried to ignore the familiar surge of pride at seeing him wearing his red and gold robe, putting it down to the conditioning of watching him win so many matches wearing those colors.

"Edward, do you have a moment?" His voice was quiet, but cut through the distorted tones of the ring announcer echoing through the hall.

"Sure," I replied. The fact he was even asking was a big deal, and I couldn't deny him. On a fight night that had already featured more interaction than usual, I had predicted he would be deep in his usual ritual of mental preparation.

"Where's Carlisle?" I asked surprised he wasn't around.

"Dad's in the green room, watching the fights with some of the advertising big wigs. It's part of his job after all." Emmett was starting to sound more urgent, most likely due to the fact that it was never certain if Jasper's matches would last twelve rounds or one. I was pretty sure Emmett didn't want to be interrupted.

"You know he would have been watching your match too."

"I bet." I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice. Emmett sighed, returning to the tape he had been methodically winding around his hands, carefully choosing his next words.

"Edward, I've seen how often you've been fighting. It's too much, you need to think of the strain on your body, the risk of wearing yourself out." I oscillated between responding with confidence or anger, both warring inside me, both completely hollow. I knew what he was saying to me, but I didn't want to hear it.

So I focused on the doubt, and of all the people clamoring to doubt me, hearing it from Emmett hurt the most.

"My trainer and my manager don't think so. They have faith, a lot more than some, that I'm physically up to the task. It seems to be working out ok so far."

"Does it? Come on E, I know you're smarter than this. Everyone needs time off between fights, especially you. I mean, sure you need to keep training, but you can't get into the ring as often as you have been and not expect it to catch up with you at some stage." His grey eyes darkened, studying me intently, as though he would somehow see the damage already done to my body.

Before he could say anything else, I was saved by the sound of heels echoing purposefully down the corridor. I knew it was Bella before she came around the corner into view. She smiled in relief, my own answering grin pushing insistently to be let loose, impossible while I was still under Emmett's scrutiny. Bella's smile faded the instant she realized who I was talking to.

"Oh, sorry I…" Bella fumbled to recover her expression, eyes looking anywhere but at me.

"Hey there, Bella." I instantly envied the open enthusiasm with which Emmett greeted her.

"I, uh Emmett there's a reporter who wanted to get a quick word with you near the entrance curtain. A spur of the moment, final thoughts before you go on kind of thing."

"I know." His resignation at the idea sat heavily in his voice. There was nothing Emmett hated more than sharing parts of himself with a bunch of strangers. Why Carlisle forced him to do interviews was a mystery. I knew the second Emmett was placed in front of those cameras, the shutters would come down and any trace of personality would be locked away, leaving behind nothing but the stereotypical image of the stoic boxer.

"Of course… just wanted to give you a quick reminder. I just spoke to Alice and she said she saw you come in here. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No problem, I just need to grab the guys, and my gloves, and we can go wait near the entrance. I'll do the interview and watch whatever's left of Jasper's match from there."

He disappeared back inside his locker room, giving Bella and I a moment together. Still reeling from the post fight turmoil, and Emmett's warnings, I slumped back against my door and turned to Bella. I didn't know what I needed from her, but I knew if anyone would be able to give it, it was her.

Knowing we had seconds before Emmett returned with his ring crew, Bella wasted no time closing the distance between us, settling her hands on my chest, over my heart. She looked up at me, searching my eyes, brow furrowed. I couldn't tell her what I didn't know myself, settling for wrapping my arms around her back and pulling her towards me. Her closeness taking the edge off whatever it was I was feeling. I could sense her concern for me and for the first time I let it wash over me, basking in the care, and… love, behind it. Bella sighed, moving to step away before we were caught like that. I frowned down at her. She paused, raising her fingers to stroke my cheek, laying her palm along the curve of my jaw. I closed my eyes, giving myself over to the feel of her, the tingling of her skin against mine.

I was losing myself to instinct for the second time that night, but for the first time it felt entirely right. I laid my hand over hers, turning my face against her hand and pressing my lips to the warmth of her palm.

Bella leaned into me, her breath hot against my neck, both of us savoring the perfection of that moment.

Emmett's door reopened far too soon and he and his ring crew emerged, Bella jerked out of my embrace instantly, my arms dropped lifelessly to my sides. She threw one apologetic glance my way before following Emmett's crew down the corridor towards the ring.

Emmett had already settled into his game face, making it hard to tell if he had caught us so intimate, so obviously more than merely acquaintances. I was fooling myself if I thought that he hadn't.

He remained outside his door, letting the others go on ahead, under the guise of checking that his gloves were secure, pushing them together to test the positioning of his fingers.

I waited, knowing Emmett wasn't done with me yet. He looked up at me, all trace of his usually neutral expression gone. He considered me with sad eyes, a flash of something I couldn't know, that wasn't mine to witness, and that I was never expecting to see in my strong, self-assured older brother.

"I hope you know what you're doing, little brother."

I had no answer, and didn't even try to give one.

With his game face back in place, Emmett nodded and walked away. Whatever it was that had passed between us seemed more distant, ephemeral, with each step he took away from me.

But one thing was certain; one constant remained when everything else could be doubted, a truth that I was finally beginning to understand.

I didn't know what I was doing.

A/N

Glossary:

Making weight: Boxers are required to have their weight checked prior to fighting to assure that they are still in their required weight range. Jasper's opponent failed the weigh in, resulting in his match getting canceled and a last minute fill-in opponent taking his place.

Number one contender - This is my understanding of the World Boxing Commission rules on eligibility to be a number one contender. Hopefully it makes sense.

The WBC has a set of rankings for each weight class based on win/loss records, quality of opponents beaten etc. The person at the top of this list is considered to be the number one contender, but that does not necessarily mean that they are guaranteed a shot at the reigning champ right away. A titleholder must defend his title at least once every nine months and as such the WBC has the power to force a titleholder into a match with the number one contender as a mandatory title defense.

It should be noted that boxing managers/promoters are required to get the WBC to sanction a title fight. The WBC has the right to refuse to sanction a match for any number of reasons, if they wish to do so.

Thank you so much to everyone who is reading this story and those who are reviewing it. It really means a lot to hear from you!

Next chapter: Edward's 21st birthday is a real work of art.