So here we have a long awaited EPOV. This chapter might be slightly confusing... but basically it goes EPOV, BPOV, then back to EPOV.
Thank for all the support and reviews! Sadly my life just keeps getting busier and busier!
I was contemplating giving this story up for adoption to someone who could do weekly updates and spend much more time, but I just don't trust anyone else with this story! I'm selfish, I know ;(
For those of you who read the old version of this story some of the similar story lines are starting to make an appearance, will give a prize to the person who spots it first :)
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, please tell me if there are any spelling or grammatical mistakes! I will try and fix them ASAP!
Isabella Voltura. In the past few days one girl seemed to have taken over my life. Practically every meeting, conversation or problem involved her.
I had been expecting the Voltura daughter to be gangly, and ugly, a sheltered freak of a child. But no, she was painfully gorgeous, with long legs, and tantalising eyes. She was completely different to anything another girl that I had ever met, and therefor painfully intriguing.
Every time I was with her I ended up having an internal battle about whether to be nice to her, or just ignore her. Of course with my luck it always ended badly, with me lashing out and her getting hurt.
I felt almost justified when I hit her with the gun, she had tried to shoot me, the little bitch, however when I had woken up with her blood staining the sheets and I had never felt more shame.
I knew that I needed to find a different way to keep her tamed without causing her physical harm, not just because I knew it was wrong to keep hitting her, but because the Doctor had cornered me and bluntly explained that any more trauma to her body could be fatal, especially in the next few months.
After 24 hours of a silent Isabella I had called my Mother to ask her for help. The girl wouldn't talk, move or make any noises apart from to cry. She was like a hormonal zombie and not many things scare me, but crying girls were like my kryptonite. They were like a foreign species and I had no clue what to do to pacify them.
I had left my Mother at the hospital with the girl, happy with the knowledge that it was crawling with our guards who I'd stationed minutes after watching the horrifying CCTV of Aro Voltura waltzing into the hospital right under our noses. That would never happen again. It was both embarrassing and painful for my pride. I hadn't kept Isabella safe, and that was something my Father had specifically instructed me to do.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, or more relevantly send you an e-mail. I glanced down to my laptop and the flashing box that had just appeared signalling a new e-mail.
It was the fourth e-mail I had received from my Father since I had entered my office three hours ago, and yet again it was on the subject of the Volturas. The knowledge that Aro wanted Isabella dead was annoying. It meant that we had no bait. I had presumed that my Father would send the girl away to a safe house in some isolated corner of the world, but he had very controversial plans.
I read through the e-mail thoroughly, double checking every single character. If I was to agree to my Father's plan then it would involve serious dedication on my behalf, and I wanted to be sure that I knew what I was signing up to. I was doing this for the good of my family, and to finally prove to my Father that I wasn't a pubescent teenager whose only aim was to fuck as many women as possible. I was a man now, and ready to be a large part of my Father's world.
"Edward Anthony Cullen!" I looked up from typing my reply to my Father when the door slammed open and my Mother walked in, her face red with anger.
"What are you doing here? I thought you said you would be at the Hospital all day." When she had arrived at the hospital she had taken one look at Isabella's sorry state before telling me to go home because she would need the whole day to sort the girl out.
Instead of answering my question she stormed over to me, and grabbed my ear tightly, pulling me up from my chair painfully.
I yelped in pain. "I can't believe what you have done to that girl! There are so many bruises and cuts! It is disgraceful!"
Fuck. I was so screwed.
"What do you have to say for yourself then?" She asked viciously. I didn't even try to release myself from her excruciating hold. I was just thankful that we were in private; if she did this in front of all the guys then I would have lost all hope in hell of earning respect.
"I'm sorry." I said softly, knowing that it was best never to argue against an angry parent.
"I am so disappointed in you Edward! You know so much better!"
I just nodded.
"You will never hit a girl again! Do you understand?" She didn't even give me enough time to respond. "Do you understand Edward Anthony?" She asked louder.
"Yes!" I yelped again as she twisted my ear harder.
She sighed, releasing me. "Bella is coming home tomorrow, and you will apologise." She ordered.
"Of course." I replied nervously.
Truthfully she had let me of fairly easy. When I was 17 I had had a one night stand then kicked the girl out the next morning rather too harshly. My Mother had gone nuts, slapped me across the face before insisting the crying girl come in for breakfast.
It had been more than awkward, and my older brothers, Jasper and Emmett, had never let me live it down.
I sighed at the memory, just as the old and yellowed phone on my desk rang with a shrill cry.
I left it for a few seconds before answering with a gruff "Edward Cullen."
"Son, it's me." I immediately sat up straighter as I settled back into my desk chair.
"Father." I greeted.
"I'm ringing regarding Isabella." I nodded, and then felt like a complete fool as I was alone. "The media has picked up our recent interest at the hospital and they're hungry to know why."
I growled quietly. I hated how the media seemed to be infatuated with our family. They knew we were up to no good, but for some sick reason they seemed to love us for it. Emmett, Jasper, and I had been regular features in gossip magazines for since the age of 13, and more recently my oldest brother Emmett's new fiancée Rosalie had become a fashion icon.
"The public suspect something, now is the perfect time to put Isabella's future into the media's eyes. Turn up at the hospital, bring flowers, anything else you feel appropriate, and then lead her out to the cars via the front entrance. Keep her close, act protective. Make it look real."
"When do we tell her?" I questioned. I knew Isabella wouldn't take the news well. The plan was slightly cruel, but we had been discussing thoroughly throughout the last few days and concluded that it was the most effective way to attack the Volturas.
"My assistant is in contact with the doctors at the hospital. They advised against bringing her home so soon, but it's a security risk for her to be at the hospital. We can't fully protect her there. Therefore you need to be careful about how you tell her, and when you tell her. She'll still be physically and mentally fragile even if she looks or acts otherwise."
I heard him take a deep breath.
"It's up to you Edward. I am trusting you with Isabella. She is yours to look after, and yours to make decisions for. But I am reminding you that we will not stoop to the Voltura's level. Your Mother called me from the hospital, and I don't doubt that you had reasons for your actions, but you make sure that if Isabella is being difficult or not cooperating, you find other means to discipline her."
"Yes sir." I replied slowly. My father had never been one to speak vocally about trust or make references to Sophia. It was taboo topics for him so the fact that he had mentioned both in one breath astounded me, and again reminded me how much pressure was on my shoulders. I couldn't fuck this up.
I ran a hand through my hair as my Father started talking about an upcoming international deal. I really couldn't fuck this up.
"Bella." I looked up from my magazine to meet Esme's warm eyes. The kind woman had done so much for me.
I had been a wreck yesterday. I still couldn't think or talk about what my Uncle had done, or tried to do. I was pushing it to the back of my mind, like I had been trying to do with Angela and Jacob, and just trying to deal with my life one second at a time.
Esme had persuaded me to have a shower, and get something to eat, and it wasn't until I saw my bruised and battered body, along with my gaunt and soulless eyes in the stained hospital mirror that I realised that I needed to buck my ideas up and pull myself together.
My Uncle had always told me to never show weakness, and now I would use his own words against him.
He meant nothing to me now.
"Hi Esme." I couldn't help but smile at the woman.
"I just came to say goodbye. I'm travelling to Africa this afternoon to pick up on some of my charity work. I'll be there for a week or so, but if you need me, or anyone to talk to you just ask Edward for my number. I've had words with him about the way he treated you. It won't happen again." The anger that passed through her eyes left my curious as to how she had tamed Edward. He was as stubborn as a young bull, but I knew that if anyone apart from Carlisle could get through to him perhaps it would be Esme. She was his mother after all.
"Thank you for all you've done for me." I got of the bed and hugged her gently. My body was still aching.
She laughed lyrically. "I'll be back before you know it."
I nodded and watched as she elegantly craned her pale neck downwards to glance at her diamond incrusted watch. It was amazing how elegant one woman could be doing something so simple as checking the time.
"I must go, I have lots to do! Edward will be here shortly to drive you home. If you need anything else just ask the boys outside. They look rather intimidating in their suits, but they're as cute as kittens really."
I laughed with her but couldn't help but disagree. The security guards that had been stationed outside my room were absolutely terrifying. They were both at least 7 feet tall and built like giants.
After Esme left I didn't have to wait long at all for Edward. He turned up with a bouquet of flowers. If the brain haemorrhage didn't kill me, then the surprise of Edward being nice very well nearly did.
He had taken my small bag, filled with the possessions Esme had given me, and then proceeded to wrap his arm around me and pull me so close to him I couldn't help but inhale his musky scent.
"You're supposed to be taking it easy, so let me take most of your weight." He explained as he led me out of the hospital, five large guards trailing behind us.
I wanted to stop and thank the doctors and nurses who had saved my life but Edward wouldn't allow it. He simply picked me up bridal style.
One of the guards pushed open the front door of the hospital and we were met with an explosion of flashes. Cameras were everywhere. I shielded my face with one hand, while clutching my flowers with the other, and burying myself into Edward's chest.
Why were they taking photos of us?
Edward along with the guards made quick work of the crowd of paparazzi and soon I found myself settled on the leather back seat of a range rover and being driven away before I had time to even contemplate a seat belt.
Edward sat beside me, his eyes boring into my head, and I self-consciously bought my hand up to cover the ugly bald patch on my head from the operation.
"Run the fuckers over." Edward said harshly, referring to the paparazzi that were jumping in front of the car.
"Is there someone famous in the Hospital?" I asked, maybe some celebrity was finally giving birth.
Edward and the driver chuckled. The security guards stayed quiet.
"My family and I have a certain 'je ne sais quoi' that the media seem to relish in." He paused, staring out the window at the paparazzi that were slowly getting smaller and smaller as we drove away, the flashes of their camera's only barely visible.
Edward and his family were famous. Somehow that didn't surprise me. The Cullen family were gorgeous, there was no denying it. And I suppose to the public eye they would be mysterious.
I wondered if the public would ever find out what they were really like. Carlisle was running an international crime business, and thriving at it. Edward had serious anger management and lashed out like a rabid dog, and I was pretty sure his brother's would share similar traits. Esme was an anomaly. She was sweet, caring and genially nice person.
I was definitely wary of Edward. Although the flowers were a surprise, I was pretty sure they were Esme's doing. The doctor had made is crystal clear to me that I was to take things very easy and Edward roughing me up wouldn't be ideal. Apparently I should've really been staying in hospital under observation for at least another week, but Carlisle had made a phone call and the doctor obviously knew the family. He said he would pass pain medicine over to the family.
I almost scoffed. They didn't trust me with drugs. Apparently I was fragile after the attack. I knew I was definitely weaker physically at the moment, but the only feelings I felt about the attack was anger. I was angry about the attack, angry that I hadn't been able to protect myself, or take me uncle down, nothing but anger.
The car was silent for the rest of the drive, Edward was on his blackberry working, the only sound being his fingers frantically typing. I wondered whether the Cullens would trust me with a phone. I had no one to call anyway.
We arrived at the Cullen mansion round half an hour later. My head was hurting slightly and I was exhausted from the slight drama. I really needed to get better; I hated the feeling of being so drained of energy.
Edward again surprised me by helping me out of the car. I tried to protest as he wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled my arm over his shoulder, letting him take some of my weight.
"Where are we going?" I asked as he led me into the huge house and up the grand flight of stairs.
He just shushed me. "Tell me where we're going." I demanded, but my voice was too quiet for it to have any threatening quality.
"Shut up Isabella." He ordered. I frowned at his creased forehead. Something was wrong.
He rushed us through the house, ignoring the people who greeted him in the hallways.
He pushed open a large oak door.
It was an office. Three identical oak desks, each accompanied by a loyal leather arm chair. Edward led me over to the closest desk and dumped me into the chair.
"I have to go to an emergency." He explained. "Do not move from that chair, touch anything, or cause any mess."
I shrugged, settling into the chair. It was comfy and perfect for cushioning my tired body.
"Are you listening?" Edward asked impatiently.
"Yes." I responded half-heartedly.
"Disobey my orders and I swear I'll go back on any foolish promises I made my Mother regarding your safety, I'll make you regret it."
I didn't respond only hearing the door click shut after a few seconds.
I lay back in the chair, trying to get comfy. I put my feet up on the desk only to knock over a mug full of pens.
"Shit." I swore as I fumbled to pick them all up.
I stopped as my hand touched a soft velvet box. There was a small note on top of it. 'For Isabella'
Was that me? I shook my head. Edward wouldn't buy me a toothbrush, let alone jewellery, and from the logo on the front of the small velvet box, it was expensive.
I gave a small sigh to myself. 'Oh what the hell' I thought to myself as I reached for the box. My fingers closed around the soft material, and it gave a small squeak as I popped it open.
"Thank you for coming do quickly Edward." My Father praised. I smiled back at him.
"It was no problem, I'm just glad that the fuckers didn't manage to hack us." I scoffed at the thought. Someone had tried to hack into our large computer database. My family spent millions a year to keep our files secure. If they were hacked we could be sent down for many, many years.
My Father smiled. "So true, but don't let your Mother hear you using that language."
I nodded, smirking. "I should get back to Isabella." I noted, remembering how I had left the girl practically asleep at my desk.
"I had one of my assistants drop of the necessary documents, and a wedding ring to your office." Father mentioned as I stood to leave.
"I won't be in the city for a few days, but it won't matter, Isabella probably won't be signing any marriage certificates any time soon." I missed my city office; it had great views, and the secretary's perfect, tight skirts.
"I thought that might be true, so I asked her to drop them off at your office here, it's probably best if you work from home until Isabella is more stable."
"Ye-" I stopped, my mind digesting what my Father was telling me. My blood ran cold. "Fuck!" I swore.
I bolted out of my Father's office leaving his more than confused, but my thoughts were set solely on Isabella.
I just hoped I got there in time.