I hope you like this story.

It's dark and deals with unpleasant things & situations but it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.

kellyprovence is my beta & she's amazing. i'm really glad she's agreed to do this with me. xo.

Bbebar pre-reads for me & she's just all kinds of wonderful. ily.

Warning: For How Long deals with physical & emotional abuse. If these things offend you or are hard for you to handle then please don't read. It won't be anything too graphic but the abuse is still there.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or it's characters. I do own this though.

For How Long- Drawn In.

-With sheep's clothing all around...it's hard to spot the wolf.-

I had everything.

A wonderful family. A mom and dad who still loved each other after twenty-seven years of marriage. Two brothers who always protected me from anything bad that wanted to get me. I had a great child hood that was filled with love and smiles and all those things you see in those Hallmark movies. If you wanted to call us cheesy and cliche, go ahead but we were always happy.

I had a great education from the best schools. Attending only private academies. I graduated from Northwestern with a business degree and had more common sense then most, or at least I thought I did. I had amazing friends who had always been able to ground me and keep me from making the wrong decision.

I came from the 'inner circle' as some people called it. I was invited to all the right parties, functions, and gatherings. I always felt as though I was a princess, especially when I was little. I got everything I wanted. All I ever had to do was ask. Hell, sometimes I didn't even need to do that.

I never wanted to be the prettiest, smartest, or most popular. It would have been pointless wanting those things anyway. Sure I was pretty. I never had to try very hard to get a date and I had a steady boyfriend for nearly a year. He told me all the time how pretty I was.

I just never felt that way.

Everything about me was meant to be superficial. My hair was done every two weeks. My nails have always been acrylic. I learned what make up worked for my skin type and tone at age twelve.

I never had a real friend. I had girls I was expected to hang out with and the boyfriend I mentioned was a really good friend who I felt comfortable with; the words, "I love you", were never spoken between us.

Nothing was ever sincere.

I could have definitely been the smartest girl. I loved education. I always did well academically. My parents made sure of that. I had tutors and was taught by only the most professional and experienced teachers. Private schools were expensive, especially with three children, but as my father always said, "You get what you pay for." I was tied with nine other people for the top spot in the my class but at number six, most of the enthusiasm is gone. I'm not saying I need a pat on the back and a party for every good grade I received but some recognition would have been nice. My parents weren't surprised and they just wrote it off as it being expected. From all of their children. I got a soft congratulations and then we moved on.

Being the most popular was a title that no one won. Everyone was popular. If you weren't, you quickly found another school. If you had money so did everyone else. If you threw a great party so did someone else. The scale would balance. There was no title to win there.

My great-grandma Carol always said to be a worthy woman you had to be strong, play fair until someone forced you to fight dirty and never go out without sunblock on. Aging was a girls worst enemy. If you had to age, age gracefully and never let a man tell you can't do something.

I lived by most of those rules.

I was aging quite well. Granted I was only twenty-five and only had late nights of studying to blame for the few lines I told myself were there. I had all my original body parts, nothing was manufactured or purchased. My modest C's and gentle curves were all mine. I could eat just as much as my brothers but made my way to the gym at least three times a week. My skin was lightly tanned, mainly from always vacationing, though I always knew when enough was enough. I didn't own any alligator skin bags and I certainly wasn't looking to have skin that could pass as such.

I had everything.

Except for love. My other half.

Until I was twenty-two.

Demetri Volturi was a professor of mine at Northwestern my junior year. He was a proud man and had confidence in everything he did and said. He wasn't arrogant though, just sure of himself. He never had to ask anything twice. He was so handsome. He was Italian and it suited him well. His dark hair and brown skin. Exotic features. It took me all of a couple weeks to fall madly in love with him.

Of course, him being my professor, voicing these feelings wasn't an option. The last day of classes, before summer term began, he asked me to meet him in his office the following day. I agreed assuming that it had to do with my final. I was certain I did well on it.

When I showed up to Demetri's office, I was surprised and shocked when he abruptly pulled me into a hug. I tensed for just a second before allowing him to hold me.

He then confessed that he'd been wanting to do that since he saw me the first day of classes and he'd been counting down the days before he could formally ask me out without repercussions. I was thrilled. What were the odds of this happening?

June 4.

That was the day I officially started dating Demetri Volturi.

It was also the day I realized that he was very good at hiding things.

I learned that from him.

The first three months went wonderfully. We would spend our days together doing whatever we felt like doing. We toured Chicago, even though I was from the amazing city, and I made sure to show him everything that Chi Town had to offer. We even went on mini vacations to places all over the country. I fell in love with him hard. It was so much more intense than what I thought I had felt for him during the semester. I moved in with him on August 15th. I might as well had signed my life away. At the time I thought it was a grand gesture of love.

Yeah. Right. It was all just a part of his plan.

He made everything that was his...mine as well. Or so it seemed. That's what he wanted me to think and feel. I suppose in a way he wasn't lying but he wasn't being completely truthful either. He never was.

On my twenty-third birthday, Demetri asked me to be his wife. I didn't answer right away because I was in shock. We'd only been together just over three months. Surely that wasn't enough time. When I voiced my concerns, he got angry. He accused me of using him and his money, of which he had plenty, and told me that if I was just going to be a gold digging whore that I could leave now. Only I had no place to go.

I had by passed a dorm and an apartment since I had moved in with D before classes started. It'd take me a few days before I could come up with a place.

I tried to reason with him and let him know that I did love him but I wanted to make sure we were ready.

He shoved me against the wall and held me there, painfully so.

"If I wasn't ready, I wouldn't have asked you. You dumb bitch. Get the fuck out."

I didn't even get to pack a bag.

I tried to access money from my bank account, to at least get a hotel room, but the bank said that my name wasn't on the account anymore. When I asked what she meant, the teller rolled her eyes and stated that the account had been placed in a Demetri Volturi's name and he was the only one that could access the account.

I cried for an hour.

I didn't want to go back to my parents. Over the past three months, I had been awful at keeping plans with them or even calling them. Demetri would always want to go somewhere and he'd promise we'd go "tomorrow, my beautiful Bella." Except we never did. I hadn't seen my parents in nine weeks. I thought about going to Jasper's house. He was the middle child. He lived on the outskirts of the city but I hadn't been any better with him then I had been with my parents. Emmett, my oldest brother, lived in Nashville. He moved there when I was nineteen. He was an engineer. He came home three times a year. I missed him.

I missed everyone.

I walked around for nearly two hours after the bank incident.

When I asked for the time at a cross walk, the woman told me it was nearly six.

I'd been on my own for four and half hours and I had nothing to show for it.

When I knocked on Demetri's door, our door, he answered without a word and walked away without looking at me. He went to the bedroom and shut the door.

I slept on the couch for almost two weeks.

He didn't talk to me. Touch me. Even acknowledge I was there.

Finally, at the beginning of October, he opened the bedroom door and softly called my name. I got up from the couch and walked to where he was.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" He asked blocking, the way into our bedroom.

"I'm sorry Demetri and yes, yes I'll marry you," I answered softly and without looking at him.

"Look at me when you talk to me, Bella. I deserve that much after the way you treated me."

"Yes, of course," I said, looking at him now.

He stepped to the side and allowed me entry.

"Now, make up for the two weeks you've not been with me. On your knees," he commanded making a motion with his hand in the direction he wanted me to go.

That night I did what he told me to. He took me any way he wanted to.

That night I became his.

He owned me.

I was Mrs. Demetri Volturi.

Alright, so not much to go on. I know...but I have the next two chapters already written and ready to post.

Chapter two will go up tomorrow (august 21) or Sunday (august 22).

I've learned a lot with AtH so I'm going to try and stay ahead of the game with For How Long.=)

Please let me know what you think. It's a short introduction but I hope you got a feel for the character.

Twitter me: hayboo05