The Next Mrs Cullen

Summary: Antique or Ikea, Beautiful inside or out, maim or kill, he had decisions to make today that would change his life.

All things Twilight belong solely to S Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

This was my entry into the Mobward competition. Thank you to all the people who reviewed you were all very kind. I haven't decided if I'm going to continue it or not yet, Mobward is not something I've ever thought of writing before.

A huge huge huge thank you to Ladyletters who Beta'd for me, you made my first attempt a joy to read, thank you xx


"Do I have to fucking do everything myself?" The mobile phone that had been the carrier of the bad news flew across the room. Emmett dodged it just before it knocked the antique vase off the display stand.

"Boss," said Emmett, glancing warily at the door. "That is one of Tanya's favourite vases, she's going to kill you."

"I don't give a shit about that," I spat. "I'm supposedly the head of the most feared crime family in the country and my men can't even carry out a simple instruction." I kicked the remnants of fine china, spreading them across the dark wood floor. "Why the fuck is James Hunter still walking about? Answer me that." I started pacing impatiently, covering the length of the severe dining room. The décor was supposedly Louis the something style, personally I thought it was gaudy, fucking awful, but it kept the wife quiet and busy. Something stopped me. "And how the fuck would you even know that's her favourite vase?"

"I don't, not really," replied Emmett. He looked uncomfortable, a sure sign I'd hit on something he didn't want me to know. "It's just an expensive antique vase," he continued, "you know how she is, she likes expensive things." He eyed the scattered shards.

"How expensive?" I queried. I was beginning to wonder if we were in some sort of alternative universe.

"Well," he said carefully, "last time I saw one of those it was valued at about 25 grand and that was a few years ago."

"What?" I yelled. I could feel my blood pressure rising. "Twenty-five grand? Are you a fucking antiques expert now? Last time I checked you were my right hand man, my consigliere and unfortunately," I gave him a withering look, "also my brother."

Emmett ignored my sarcasm, moving the conversation back to the safer topic of work. "James Hunter is really fucking sneaky boss. "He looked at me sheepishly. "I mean, he must be stupid to try and rip you off in the first place." He paused, checking that he still had my attention. I was listening, although my anger still pulsed in my veins. "But he's been very clever, never staying in one place too long and not planning anything too far in advance. By the time we get word where he is, he's already moving onto the next place." Emmett was trying to placate me and keep me calm. He knew me well enough to know that I was at the end of my tether and that usually meant death and destruction of some kind.

"Well I want to know where he is," I told him. "He must be running out of places to stay by now". I balled my hand into a fist so hard that the fingernails dug into the soft pads of my hands. "I have made it quite clear to everyone, have I not, that anyone who helps him will answer to me?"

Emmett nodded and gulped. Message understood I finally slumped onto the uncomfortable Italian leather couch that dominated the room.

"Why are you sitting on my antique fainting couch?" came a high pitched voice that set my teeth on edge. "You know it's only for show!" Her tone was that of someone who considered herself way above the people around her, condescending did not even begin to describe it. "And what the fuck happened to my vase?" Her voice rose a full octave.

"Good evening Tanya," I said smoothly. I would never let her know that she could get to me. "How are you?" I smiled, a cruel parody of a happiness long ago forgotten, twisted into something darker. "Have you had a hard day spending my money?" Her mouth dropped open but before she could respond I continued. "Or have you been on your back for your latest beau?"

She glared at me and I glared at her. I sank back further into her precious fainting couch. Tanya was beautiful, blonde hair and blue eyes, body of a Hollywood starlet, wardrobe to match. I stood up, suddenly restless again.

"It's my money as well," she spat as she used her thin bejewelled hands to smooth the upholstery of the couch. "I earn it by being the perfect wife for you in public." Honestly, I will never forgive my father for arranging our marriage without consulting me first. She was a lazy, money grabbing snob, the ugliest person I know inside. Worse still, she has been sleeping around, hardly the perfect wife image she likes to portray. If she had been discreet I could have turned a blind eye for the sake of keeping up appearances, but she had been careless. Word soon got back to me that she had brought someone here to the house. My house.

"It's a shame," I told her in a soft, bitter voice, "that you're not the fucking perfect wife at home as well." Manners be damned, I knew the comment would cause a row, but what did I care? She could leave any time she liked. Before she could answer I stormed out of the room, slamming the door of the dining room so violently that the walls shook.

I slept alone in my own room. Tanya and I had long since given up the pretence of being happily married. It was a joke, I was one of the most powerful men in the country and I was lonely. I wanted someone to share my life with and to cuddle up to in bed when I finally made it home at night, instead of hiding in the den when I was awake and sleeping in my own room at night.

As dawn broke I made several decisions. First and most important, Tanya had to go. I was established now, sure I would be the first divorced family head, but they would have to kill me to remove me and I know a thing or two about staying out of trouble. Of course, neither Tanya nor her family would like it as it would bring great disrespect to them, but the threat of exposing her affairs should hopefully keep them co-operative, especially as it would void the pre-nup. My lawyer, Whitlock, had been very insistent on that clause. I silently thanked him as I watched the light soften to the grey light of dawn.

My usual morning wood brought another more pressing thought to mind, I needed to get laid. It had been a very long time since I'd been near Tanya or any woman for the matter. Don't get me wrong, it's not due to lack of opportunity, I just can't keep the moral high ground if I'm fucking every piece of ass that throws themselves at me.

"Fuck this Emmett." I got into the back seat of the Range Rover slamming the door behind me. "I've had enough of this shit." It was six thirty in the morning and I'd only got back from one of my clubs three hours ago. Of course, Tanya couldn't leave me be until I'd had a few hours sleep, no, she had to start moaning and whining as soon as she realised I was home. I'm never easy to deal with, I know that, but after no sleep and no caffeine Tanya should have really known better. The row had been volcanic and two figurines and a sculpture hadn't survived, all of them narrowly missing my head.

"It's time to go and see Whitlock," I pulled my Ray Ban sunglasses from my pocket and slid them on to cover my bloodshot eyes. "I don't give a shit what my dad thinks, I'm the head of this family now and it's time I started to take control of my own life."

"Yes Boss," replied Emmett, putting the Range Rover into gear and pulling silently away from the kerb. As ever my brother just agreed with me. I was surrounded by yes men. In fact, the only person around me who had the balls to really tell me what they thought was my soon to be ex-wife.

"What time will Whitlock be in his office?" I asked as Emmett pushed the car through the early morning rush hour.

"Usually about 8.00am. We're early," he dared a quick glance in my direction via the rear view mirror, "do you want to stop for breakfast or something?"

"Fuck Emmett, you'll be asking me out to brunch next," I snapped.

"Just thought you might be hungry Boss," he sagged a little at my brusqueness, "you haven't eaten anything since yesterday lunch time, have you?" It was a sad state of affairs that Emmett took better care of me than my wife. The rumbling in my stomach confirmed he was right.

"Ok," I conceded, "find a diner or something close by to Whitlock's office, we can eat while we wait for him."

I put a call into my attorney to tell him I would be waiting for him at his office and Emmett pulled into the parking lot of a small diner. While we were waiting for our order Emmett's phone rang

"Yep…yep…yep...yep...when…is he still there?" he asked whoever was on the other end.

"Okay…yep…yep…okay." He put his phone down and picked up the large bacon roll that was now in front of him.

"Well that was enlightening Emmett," I remarked. "I didn't realise you were such a master of the English language and the art of conversation." I couldn't help myself, I knew I was being an ass but I was tired and hungry.

"That was Quill," explained Emmett, referring to some low life scum that fed us information in return for operating under our family radar. "Apparently Hunter is going to look at an apartment this morning across town," I nodded for him to elaborate. "He has been staying with Jacob Black for the last few nights but he knows it's time to move on."

"Black?" I growled. "That fucking pond life." There was no love lost between the Cullen and Black families. "We'll deal with him later but for now find an address for this apartment and we can go and surprise him."

"Ok Boss," Emmett smiled a little in anticipation as he pushed the breakfast sandwich into his mouth. l like to keep my hands clean but Emmett... I shuddered a little. Dude is my brother but sometimes his flair for violence disturbs me a little.

A homely waitress put a plate of eggs down in front of me. "Thank you," I told her with a courteous smile. She smiled at me in return and blushed a little.


Business was booming. I seemed to be on a roll at the moment, no matter what it was I was showing I was closing the deal. Today would hopefully be no different. I was meeting a Mr. Jones at 9.30am to show him the penthouse apartment on a new apartment block I'd secured exclusive rights to. This was a serious money deal and if I could get him to sign on the bottom line I could book the Caribbean cruise I'd been promising myself for the last two years.

I dressed carefully. It was almost like I was dressing a set, I needed to fit into the surroundings I was representing but at the same time I didn't want to be too visible. It was all about selling the space, not me.

I layered on my armour, my favourite set of underwear, some silk hose and my severe navy blue business suit. I loved the contrast of my silk lingerie and nude stockings and the wool suit. They were different ends of the fashion spectrum but together they made me feel sexy and successful. I stepped into my nude stilettoes and fastened my hair on the top of my head in a top knot. A little make up and some bright red lipstick, I really was a walking cliché, but it worked, especially when I was selling or leasing expensive real estate to rich men.

I walked around the empty penthouse apartment, it really needing dressing but the owners were so sure it would sell itself they wouldn't spend the extra cash to furnish it. It looked a little sparse, cream carpets as far as the eye could see, so expensive that I longed to kick my shoes off and bury my feet in their understated comfort. I pulled open the heavy cream drapes, maximising the light in the huge living space and taking in the view, the whole city spread in front of me. I have sold or let a lot of apartments, however this one was quite breath taking. For a moment I imagined myself living here. Some people, they see a place like this and can't imagine what it would look like with their furniture in. Well I can. I can see it now, not my furniture admittedly, my apartment is a shoebox compared to this place. No, in my mind I was filling it with fantasy furniture. A splash of colour here. A tasteful print there. An antique apothecary bottle filled with lavender bath salts there…

I had brought the usual hamper of supplies that I use when trying to close a deal this big. It contained champagne, crystal glasses, some fancy lace napkins, organic expensive salt and pepper crackers, several different foreign cheeses, fruit and Belgian chocolates. They very rarely got opened never mind eaten so I was able to reuse them for quite a while. I set out the goodies on the kitchen island and carefully arranged a huge vase of flowers to add a splash of colour to the chic white gloss design. I stood back, not too bad for a cheap and cheerful IKEA vase and some supermarket flowers. I took a deep breath, smoothing my skirt against my legs. I checked my hose for snags and touched up my lipstick. I was ready, I just needed Mr. Jones to show up and then I could get this show on the road.

Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. I jumped at the sound, I had expected the external buzzer to sound first. The doorman must have let him in. I sneaked a glance at my watch. He was late, that was not a good start. I hated tardiness and while it was all about the pitch I was about to make, he could at least be on time.

I opened the door with my trademark welcome smile and was taken aback to see two men rather than the one that I was expecting. One was huge, he could have been a wrestler with those muscles and boyish good looks. The other was incredibly handsome, he had the most incredible crystal clear green eyes set in a hard chiselled face with hair slicked back. His lips were full, perhaps a little cruel but definitely biteable. Everything about him screamed 'do not touch' but all I wanted to do was mess up his carefully slicked hair.

"Mr. Jones?" I enquired. I raised my eyebrows, waited for one of them to actually say something. They both looked at each other as if I'd spoken in a foreign language. I didn't remember Renee saying that they were foreign, or gay, but the look that passed between them certainly communicated that they were more than just business acquaintances.

"I'm expecting a Mr. Jones for a 9.30am viewing." They looked at me again, so I spoke more slowly enunciating each word. "Are either of you Mr. Jones?" Neither of them said anything but the man mountain shook his head. That was enough for me so I closed the door, I didn't have time to worry about what they wanted, I knew this block was far too exclusive to let someone just wander in off the street so they were probably already residents just coming up for a nosey around.

Another knock on the door, this time heavier and a little more urgent I took a deep breath, pushed my shoulders back and my chest out and pasted on my welcoming smile again. It was the couple from downstairs still standing there. The handsome dangerous looking one had taken place forefront now.

"Look, I'm really sorry," I said, trying to be nice but firm. "I'm waiting for a client so I haven't got time to show you around a t the moment. Why don't you give me your apartment number and I'll come and get you and your boyfriend once my client has finished?" I nodded and smiled, trying to communicate how much of a favour it was for me to even offer to show them around.

"What the ffff… "Angry words nearly fell out his mouth but he visibly reined himself in. "What are you talking about Miss…?" The man mountain started to laugh, a really infectious giggle, I fought hard to retain my dignity but green eyes looked really angry.

"Well, you didn't have to be buzzed in so I assume that you live in one of the apartments downstairs?" I tried to move the conversation back to safer territory.

"No, "he twisted his lips and for a moment I desperately hoped that my initial assumption was wrong. "I live across town?" He seemed more confused than I was about what was going on.

"Okay," I told him. "Can we rewind things a bit?" He nodded. "You are definitely not Mr. Jones?"

"No." He shook his head. "Besides, who the fuck is Mr. Jones, I thought you were meeting James Hunter?" He walked past me into the apartment as though I'd laid out a welcome mat. I turned to tell him to get out but the man mountain followed right behind.

"I am definitely meeting Mr. Jones," I said. "I've never heard of James Hunter."

"Fuck!" The green eyed man pulled a mobile phone from the pocket of his extremely well-tailored suit. He pressed a speed dial button and in a moment was shouting at some poor sod who had the misfortune to be on the other side of the phone.

"I'm sorry miss," said the man mountain, who was wearing an equally nice suit. "We were led to believe that you were meeting a Mr. Hunter here at 9.30am to show him this apartment, we need to speak with him so we thought that we would come and meet him too."

"Well we seem to both be out of luck, because neither your Mr. Hunter or my Mr. Jones has showed up yet." I looked at my watch again. It was 9.50am. Usually anyone running late was only 10 minutes behind schedule so I was probably dealing with a no show.

"Does he always talk to people like that?" I asked, looking at the green eyed man. He wandered around, phone in hand, gesturing with the other hand even though the person at the other end wouldn't be able to see him. His language was definitely adding some colour to the apartment.

"Yeah," he grimaced. "He doesn't have much patience for people who don't do as he asks first time."

"Isabella Swan." I held out my hand to the man mountain and he took and shook it. "Emmett Cullen," he replied. His hand was big and warm. He was the kind of guy that made you feel safe.

"So Emmett," I trilled, in my best sales voice, "are you interested in purchasing or leasing this beautiful apartment?" I laughed as his face dropped and he blushed.

"Don't worry," I put a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'm only teasing; I know you aren't here to buy."

"How can you tell I'm not interested?" He asked, seemingly genuinely interested in my business.

"I can spot a potential time waster a mile off, you'll be surprised how many bored housewives just come to look at property to get ideas for their own homes or just to get out of the house," as he laughed I relaxed, I liked this big guy, there was something very gentle about him.

"So are you and your partner going to wait long?" I asked. "I'm afraid I have another showing across town in a couple of hours and I need to work the phones to drum up some interest on this place." I had already started repacking my goodies hamper and retying the flowers back into their carrier, everything could be used at the next showing.

"Shit, he's not my partner, he's my brother!" Emmett was trying not to laugh. "Please tell me we don't look like a gay couple, because he's also my boss."

"Brothers?" I screwed up my face, contemplating the thought. They didn't look very alike. "I never would have believed that, and as for a gay couple I never presume or dismiss anything."

We were both startled by a string of very explicit language being screamed down the phone.

"I wonder how he gets anything done speaking to people like that?"

"We've been trying to catch up with Mr. Hunter for quite a while," explained Emmett, "but he always seems to be one step ahead of us." He looked at his brother who was now gesticulating wildly. "It's starting to get to him I'm afraid."

"You don't need to make excuses for him," Emmett didn't reply. I got the feeling that he was used to making excuses for his brother.

I was just going to get the flowers when my phone rang.

"Swan Home Finders, how may I help? Isabella Swan speaking." I didn't recognise the number so it could be a new client.

"Miss Swan? It's Mr. Jones, I'm sorry I haven't made my appointment this morning, I was wondering if you were still at the property, I'm very interested in a short term lease."

I looked up at Emmett and signalled to him, letting him know who was on the phone.

"Mr. Jones," I said clearly, "I can wait another 15 minutes but I have an appointment across town, are you likely to be much longer?" As soon as I said the name green eyes turned around from staring out of the window and strode purposely towards me. He was gesturing for me to keep the man on the other side talking and he dragged Emmett off to one side.

"I'm quite happy to wait for you then Mr. Jones, see you in 20 minutes." With that I hung up and turned to the brothers. "Mr. Jones says he was held up but he will be here in 20 minutes."

"Anything else?" snapped green eyes.

"Um, I heard him ask someone in the background called Jake how long it would take to get here."

"Jackpot," said green eyes then started barking orders to Emmett.

"Go and move the car just in case he recognises it. Call Paul and get him and Demetri down here. Tell them to stay hidden until I call them. Then get your ass back up here so we can be ready for him."

"Do you always talk to people like that?" The words slipped out before I even registered that it may have sounded rude.

"Like what?" the confusion on his face pretty much answered my question but as ever I couldn't help but push it.

"Like they are shit on the bottom of your shoes." His face scrunched up as though he had severe gas but it passed and I could tell he was trying to control himself.

"Are you always so outspoken Miss…?"

"It's okay," I snapped. "My name isn't important." I snorted. "At least if you don't know it you certainly can't order me to do anything." I turned away from him and started to unpack the hamper again.

"I wouldn't bother with unpacking all that," said green eyes, gently. "Mr. Jones is not going to be around to take the lease on this place."

"Oh," the penny finally dropped, "are you going to arrest him?"

"Something like that, yeah," he laughed and his whole face relaxed. He looked so much younger when he wasn't scowling. Younger and much more attractive. The laughter dried up and he started to pace around the room.

"You should have told me you were cops; my dad is the chief of police back home." The prospect of being part of a high profile arrest even made my cruise seem a little boring for a while. "I could help." This seemed to tickle green eyes again and he let out another loud laugh.

"Oh don't worry ma'am," he smiled. There was something jarring about that smile. "You've helped enough already, just getting him here should get you a good citizen medal." I preened but before I could query whether there really was such a medal because I'd not heard of it, I heard the elevator doors and a few seconds later Emmett walked back in accompanied by two others.

"Okay," barked green eyes, all business again. "I want you two downstairs out of sight. When he arrives in the foyer text me, Emmett will grab him as soon as the elevator doors open up here." The two 'new' men nodded and left without every acknowledging me.

"You know you don't have to wait for their text." He turned to look at me, as if surprised that I had anything to contribute. "You can see everything that is happening in the foyer on the screen." I pushed open the panel by the door and switched the system on. Instantly we had a view of the main entrance door and everybody that was milling around.

"Well done Miss…?" He left his phrase open, urging me to fill the space. I ignored him.

"Swan," Emmett offered.

"Thank you Miss Swan." He smiled, but it was patronising. "Now why don't you run along? We don't want to risk your safety if anything kicks off here."

"Oh no," one hand immediately went to my hip. "I'm not falling for that. Do you really think I'm going to leave you here in a property I'm responsible for?" His incredulous gaze made me realise that was exactly what he did think. "Fuck that Mister, this penthouse has a seven figure price tag. I'll wait, then when you get your man I'll lock up after you."

"Err, Miss Swan?" Green eyes was really turning on the charm now. It would so easy to fall for his pretty bullshit. "It really isn't a good idea for you to be here when we catch up with him. It won't be pretty and I'd rather we didn't have any witnesses."

"Witnesses, why would that matter?" I looked between green eyes and Emmett. Surely you need witnesses if you are going to get a conviction on whatever he has done?" I was confused now.

"Boss," said Emmett slowly. "Why does she think we need witnesses?"

"Well, Emmett Miss Swan is trying to be a good citizen by helping us with our undercover sting." This one sentence set Emmett falling about laughing. I wasn't sure if it was at me or what green eyes had said but either way something wasn't right.

"Ok enough," I huffed, stomping a foot in illustration of just how serious I was. "Can I see some identification please?" I looked at Emmett who suddenly seemed to regain control.

"What sort of identification would you like to see Miss?" he replied, nice as pie, his smile a mile wide.

"Well if you are cops or feds you will have your ID with you," I was equally nice, but my sweetness was closer to the saccharine hit of diet coke than honey. "Come on then, let's have a look."

Both of them stood looking at me as though I'd just asked them to plait fog, confirmation that they weren't who they had let me believe they were.

I was mad now and a little scared, if they weren't the good guys then they were most likely bad guys and bad guys didn't want witnesses. I needed to get them out of here quickly and with as little damage to the property and me as possible.

"Okay, enough is enough." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I want you out of here now please before I call the cops." I walked towards the door and opened it hoping they would just casually walk out.

"I don't think so Miss. In fact," said green eyes, "it looks as though our Mr Hunter or your Mr Jones has just arrived." A tall blonde haired guy came into view on the monitor.

"Ahh he's got a ponytail," I moaned, unable to stop flipping into sales mode. "I hate guys who have ponytails, they always expect to get money knocked off because they think they are so gorgeous." I stared at the screen until he walked into the elevator.

"Please Miss Swan," said green eyes, and I thought that I could detect just a hint of desperation in his voice. "Just go into the other room until we have finished having our little chat with him, then we will leave you in peace."

"No," I retorted, childishly. "This is my sale I'm not going anywhere." I stood my ground until I saw green eyes nod at the man mountain. For someone so big he moved surprisingly quickly and before I knew it I was over his shoulder and being bundled unceremoniously onto the floor of the closet in the master bedroom. He slammed the door and turned the key on the outside, leaving me angry and in complete darkness.

I don't even know for sure that Mr. Jones or Mr. Hunter or whoever it actually was, ever made it up to the apartment. l kicked and screamed but to no avail, I couldn't hear a word, which made me think that nobody could hear me either. The door was locked from the outside but I knew I had a master key on the ring in my pocket so I was soon on my knees trying to push the key on the other side out so I could unlock the door. It took me forty-five minutes but by the time I got out the apartment was empty, not even a stray hair to show someone other than me had been in there.

After a quick look around I picked up my hamper and the flowers in their IKEA vase and let myself out. I locked up and made my way back to my car. What a waste of a day, no sale and I missed the viewing at the property across town because of all the shit here.


"Is she safely locked away? I asked Emmett as he strode back into the room. He nodded.

"Feisty one," he smirked. "I thought I was going to have to gag her."

"You didn't though, did you?" For some reason it was important to me that Miss Swan was okay.

"No," he reassured me. "I left her locked in the closet, she'll be fine in there."

Emmett looked at me strangely but before I could say anything else the elevator doors pinged, the signal that James was about to walk into the apartment. Emmett stood behind the door and off to one side. James knocked on the door and pushed it open, shouting hello as he peered in. Before he even saw me Emmett felled him with a single blow to the back of his head. Paul and Demetri walked in after him and the three of them carried James's body out to load him into the SUV.

I looked around the apartment to make sure everything was as we found it. Both Emmet and I knew better than to touch anything so all I had to do was wipe a few door knobs just to be sure. I walked into the main bedroom and wiped off the closet door. I couldn't hear anything so Isabella must have been sitting quietly waiting for us to finish. I made sure the key was in the right position so she'd be able to push it out. I knew from the shape of her jacket pocket she had a ring of master keys on her. I quietly closed the bedroom door and made my way back to island in the kitchen, I really wanted to open the champagne and the chocolates and just sit and watch the world go by for an hour or so, but I had things to do, traitors to torture and kill, wives to divorce. I smiled at the bright, inexpensive vase placed next to the worn hamper and wondered what Tanya would think about it. I shook the thought away and made my way to the main door, dropping the lock so no one else could get in.

Downstairs Emmett had the car idling for me at the entrance. Paul and Demetri were in the back with James wedged between them. He was still out cold.

"How hard did you hit him Emmett?" I asked.

"Oh you know," he grinned, "just the normal."

Across town at my warehouse two men carried his still prone body across the threshold. Emmett fetched a chair and we soon had James Hunter tied to the wooden chair by the wrists, thighs, ankles and chest.

"Fetch some cold water, it's time to wake him up." I removed my jacket and shoe and slipped on a pair of coveralls. This was going to get messy.

Emmett doused James in cold water and he started to gain consciousness. Slowly he opened his eyes and started to look around. I saw the moment he realised where he was and who was with him. James had been part of my inner circle for a long time and he had been in this warehouse enough to know what happened in here to people who betrayed me or tried to rip me off.

"Good afternoon James, how are you?" I was always polite, no matter what Miss Swan thought. Why was I thinking about her? I got back to the task in hand.

"Boss," he pleaded. "It's all a huge misunderstanding. I never did anything, I just didn't know how to explain the missing cash to you so I panicked, I've found it though!"

I nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"I have it at home in my closet." James was babbling so fast I was having trouble catching what he was saying, all I really caught was 'closet' and that again made me picture Isabella sitting in the closet of the apartment. I wondered if she had managed to get out yet.

"Boss are you ok?" Emmett asked and I looked around to see everyone including James staring at me.

"So James," I began, slowly. "Why is it in your closet and not in my safe?" I walked towards the bag Emmett had bought in with him and selected two long specially sharpened screwdrivers.

"Boss I was going to bring it to you, I just…,"

Before he could answer I stabbed a screwdriver through the back of his hand. I heard the bones break and the wood splinter as it went straight through his flesh and into the chair arm. He screamed like a little girl.

"For fucks sake James at least try to come up with a good excuse," I twisted the handle of the tool, watching with detached fascination as blood welled out of the hole I was making.

"We both know you thought I'd taken my eye off the ball and I wouldn't notice you lifting thirty grand out of the last four shipments."

Even Emmett didn't know it was four deliveries James had shafted me on. I told him about the last two once I was sure about James.

"How did you know it was four?" James asked before he realised he'd just confirmed what I'd said.

"It's my fucking business to know James," I screamed. "Like it is my business to know you are fucking my wife in my house."

He blanched and before he could react I pushed the second screwdriver straight through his right eyeball and up into his brain. I stood back and watched him die. I wasn't bothered about him fucking Tanya. I wasn't really that bothered about the fact it was in my house. No, what really pissed me off was the fact he thought I was too stupid to notice, or that they were so clever that they could sneak around without me finding out.

"Get someone in here to clean up," I sighed. I was bone tired now. "Get rid of him," I cocked my head at the body formerly known as James.

"Make sure he never reappears." I looked at Paul and Demetri to emphasise my point. "I don't want him ever found, understand?" They both nodded and I stripped off the coveralls and stepped outside to get dressed.

Once we were back in the car I called Whitlock.

"Two things."

"Yes?" He replied. I wish everyone listened to me as intently as he did.

"The divorce papers we have ready?" He murmured that he understood what I was referring to. "Serve them today and make sure she is out of the house before I get home. I have proof that she was unfaithful so the pre-nup is null and void."

"Are you sure?" he cautioned. "It might be legal but her family still has influence."

"I'm sure," I told him. "Give her the car and $100K in cash from my safety deposit box. That should keep her in the style to which she has become accustomed for a while. Cancel all her cards and change the alarm codes on the house." Whitlock and I had already talked about this several times in the last few years so I knew he had everything ready to go.

"The second thing I want you to do is find out everything you can about a Miss Isabelle Swan, she runs a company called Swan Home Finders."

"Everything?" he asked.

"Everything." I confirmed.

"Can I ask why?"

"Isabelle Swan will be the next Mrs Cullen, that's why."