Rating: T

Pairing: ExB

Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer, therefore I do not own any Twilight characters.

Summary: Bella's a normal twenty year old girl, except for the abuse. When she wanders the streets of a ritzy neighborhood, she is found by Mike Newton, Edward Cullen's personal chauffer. With Alice's meddling, Bella is forced to move in with him. The only problem is that Bella suffers amnesia, and wakes up without memory multiple days a week, not to mention Edward's obvious annoyance with the middle class girl. With Bella's pain, Edward must find a way to accept his own past and find love with the only girl who may never truly remember him.

Big thanks to my beta, Permanent Rose. Bold has never looked better (:

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you

-Hoobastank, The Reason

Chapter One: Awkward Hellos

Bella's Point of View

Walk faster, I scolded myself.

I didn't know where I was headed, but I knew I was in the wrong part of town. Not the part where got you attacked late at night – that was exactly what I was running from – but instead, I was surrounded by the ritzy homes that towered high over the ground. Elegant rosebushes lined long driveways, high metal fences stretching and twisting well above my head as I stepped onto a perfectly trimmed lawn.

I let out a yelp of pain as I fell onto the ground, my ankle twisting under me. I looked at the gash, praying that nobody was driving around tonight. It would be much too difficult to explain what I, a plain girl, was doing in the middle of the richest neighborhood, broken and bleeding.

I hid to the shadows, knowing fully well that he wouldn't dare step into this part of town. Just the thought of tough lawyers, big businessmen, and thousand dollar suits would be enough to keep him at bay.

Besides, he thought I would come back.

I always came back.

I had always turned and ran into his arms, stumbling and spitting apologies that I shouldn't have said. Things would be good for a few weeks; he'd always tell me how sorry he was and that he had made a mistake. He promised things would get better. That he loved me.

But his anger would always win. Intoxicated by alcohol and rage, he would spit words at me that I didn't want to hear, and hurt me in ways that would leave more that just physical scars.

Rosalie, my best friend, always told me he was no good. She was smart and never had so much as an unwelcomed hand set on her beautiful body. My other friend, Jasper, was a wonderful man who was always charismatic and kind. None of his girlfriends had ever once come home with a bruised eye, fat lip, or swollen ankle.

I didn't know where I was going, but I knew that as soon as I found a hospital, I would get help. I vowed to never go back to him, though somewhere in my subconscious, I knew it was futile to run from a situation that had me inevitably trapped. If he wanted me back, I feared he would win. He always did. I was his.

But his arms were far too cold for me. And I had to leave before I forgot about the entire thing. He was manipulative, and he used my weakness for his benefit. The weakness he created with his hard, unforgiving hands.

I didn't remember the day, as funny as that seems now. After the hospital stay, he informed me, with loving, caring eyes that I slipped and fell. Rosalie later told me that she'd walked in on a fight. He'd pushed me down, roughly, my head hitting hard against the sidewalk.

Now I had to live with this curse. Waking up some days, not knowing what I'd done the night before. Walking the streets, trying to figure out how I'd managed to end up five miles away from my home. That was before Rosalie thought of the bracelet. It was humiliating at first, but we designed them boldly, even going so far as to have my information engraved in bright colors, so that if I were to get lost, somebody could contact her.

How humiliating.

I felt my stomach lurch, and I leant over the curb just as I threw up my dinner's contents onto the pavement. I didn't know if it was from lack of food, fear, or something else entirely, but I let out a moan as I tucked my hair behind my ears.

I was a normal girl. I was as plain as plain could be, but I was as decent as any other twenty year old. I worked my way through college, spending nights at the local café while I chatted with the kids from my classes.

I didn't know what I'd done to get locked in this trap. Like most girls, I thought he was different. I thought I was different, that I could change him. After a while, I just began to hope that he wouldn't hurt me too badly.

Too far this time, I thought, much too far.

My ankle gave out again, the flip flops unsupportive as the blood coated the white fabric. I needed to find a hospital; I had to. I closed my eyes, trying not to breathe in the scent of bloodas I stumbled across the lawns. I knew a hospital was just down the road, convenient for any of the rich that suffered any late night traumas. I'd even worked there, volunteering for a time before my "situation"had caused me to drop out.

I peeked around the corner, begging that the bright lights of the hospital would be shining. Instead, a different light shone, blinding me with its intensity.

I heard a man swear, a car door slamming shut as he ran over to me. I couldn't see much – my eye was almost swollen. I tried to put on a smile, something I'd mastered so well in my time with the man I'd loved. What a sick love.

"Come on," he said urgently. I looked at him, squinting. I made out blonde hair, and a muscled physique. I couldn't tell much more, other than the fact that he was panicking. "We have to get her to a hospital!"

"No I'm fine," I mumbled weakly. I heard another snort, this one almost outraged. I was lifted into a pair of strong arms, my ankle screaming in protest as I let out a cry of agony.

"There there," the voice said softly. I whimpered.

"There there, baby," he said, his fingers cupping my chin as he lifted my face to his. His lips brushed against mine as I fought to move against his grip. "You're mine, and you can't ever change that."

I shuddered as I was moved to the inside of a car. I heard a low hiss as I slid inside.

"Who is this?" A voice demanded in outrage as my head fell limply against the seat. "I don't want any low-class white trash sitting in my vehicle. Do you hear me Emmett? Get her out!"

I heard a growl, my face flushing as angry tears spilt down my cheeks. I opened my mouth to attempt to open the door, but the man who had carried me was angry.

"Look, bro," he said, stressing the word, "This girl is going to die. We either get her help, or her death hangs over your head. Not to mention all over the papers."

I heard an angry sigh. I wished my eyes could open, just a little, so that I could see whoever hated me so much.

"Mike, step on the gas or I swear if so much as one drop of her blood lands on this seat-"

A cry escaped my lips, and the man quieted down immediately. I wasn't crying because of his hostility, I was far too used to that, but because I was stuck in a car with three strangers. Two strangers that wanted to help and one angry man who wanted nothing to do with me.

It was far too familiar.

I felt a hand on my wrist, and I flinched away. The man's grip was firm, but somehow delicate as he lifted the wristband to my face. I closed my eyes, my lips trembling as he read off the humiliating tag.

"What is she, a dog?" The angry man spat, laughing loudly. I flinched – they had no idea.

"Calm down man," Emmett said, placing my wrist back down in my lap with such care I wanted to cry. He leaned in, his breath quiet in my ear. "We're almost there, Bella Swan. Ignore Edward; he doesn't understand how to be a human. I'll call your friend Rosalie. You're okay."

His kindness touched me. Before I could think any more, or try to say a proper thank you, my mind slipped down in the usual way. I fought against it, trying to push the heavy blanket back from my mind. But before I knew what had happened, I tumbled into unconsciousness.

And for once in my life, I wanted to forget everything.

**********

Edward's Point of View

"How many more?" I asked, leaning one elbow on the armrest as I stared at my notes. Emmett typed away on the laptop, quickly running through the dozens of files.

"About seventeen, but I think that if we can just lock down on the Milton branch, then we can snag Owens and Tale. That'll give us fourteen…and then Apprent usually follows whatever that one company does," he rambled off, snapping his fingers as he tried to think of the name. I understood what he was saying, jotting it down on the chart. "So if we can do that, thenthat gives us about twelve."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out an exasperated sigh. I was exhausted with this business. Our father had passed it on to me when he died, leaving me with absolutely hours of planning and business deals to close. I supposed I could be thankful, considering he left me with millions, but as good as a partner Emmett was, he was too kind. He allowed too many people to get away with too many mistakes. Mistakes that I had to correct.

I remembered, vaguely, my teen years. I had always been the studious one. Out of my father's two children, Emmett was the football star, and I was the one that brought home the grades. I'd always been quiet, but I still managed to catch the attention of everygirlin my high school. Before I could get any ideas about returning affections, my father sent me to a private business school.

I spent my years there, from my junior year until college, and he'd prepared me for this, almost knowingly. Emmett had already gone through college, coming out with a 4.0 and a football career in the waiting but dropped everything to be my partner after our dad had died of a heart attack two years ago. He had left us Cullen Incorporated, the top business firm in all of New York. I'd never wanted to live here, let alone set foot into the city.

I sighed again, closing my eyes. We had to secure a deal with twelve companies or we'd lose millions of dollars in backup. Funds that would most likely pay for bonuses and help support the company backbone.

"Edward," Emmett said, putting the laptop on the seat. I rolled my eyes – I knew what he was going to say next. "Bro, you're twenty-four, don't you think it's time you settle down with a woman?"

"Yea, you're twenty-five, where's yours?" I retorted, immediately regretting my words. His eyes hardened as he glared at me.

"I know this is hard for you," he spat back, venom edging his words. I ran a hand through my hair, an apology on my lips. He just shook his head, staring at me with unforgiving eyes. "It's only been five months, Edward. I know this is hard for you too, but at least I'm trying."

"Sorry," I mumbled, not knowing what else to say. Suddenly the car lurched to a stop, almost spilling the glass of wine in my hands. I looked up at Mike, our chauffer, and glared. "What's your problem?"

Emmett looked out the window, but I honestly could have cared less about what was getting them so hyped up. He threw open the door, profanities escaping his lips as he stumbled into the street. Annoyance bubbled inside of me – I was going to be late the video conference we had scheduled if we didn't hurry up.

I thought I heard a cry, but I couldn't be sure.

"There there," Mike cooed to her. I scowled – I knew it was a girl. Mike could hardly be considered hospitable to any male.

I couldn't help but to show my irritation as she slid in the car. Her ankle was cut open, a bloody gash dripping from her ankle. Her long, mahogany hair was filled with the same crimson color as the cut; its source was a deep gash just above her eye trickling blood into her hair and down the side of her face.

"Who is this?" I demanded. The girl didn't open her eyes to look at me, her ankle wrapped in Emmett's spare shirt. "I don't want any low-class white trash sitting in my vehicle. Do you hear me Emmett? Get her out!"

The girl flinched, and Emmett let out a long, low growl. He said something to me, but I was barely listening, matching his own glare with an equally steady one of my own.

I couldn't believe this! Emmett was an amiable person, always good with people; that was the reason I kept him with us. But this was simply ridiculous. This girl could easily be a drug addict, hurting herself and running around my neighborhood to try to get into our hospital. Everybody knew that the ritzy neighborhoods had the best care. I couldn't see any way out of it, so I sighed. Carlisle would know what to do with her, and then we could be on our way.

Still, I couldn't control my anger. This girl was causing me so many unnecessary problems.

"Mike, step on the gas or I swear if so much as one drop of her blood lands on this seat-"

The girl let out a shriek, and something sparked in me. Pity? I hadn't felt pity since my father died, and Esme was crying at the funeral. And even then, the pity was more for my father lying in the casket, not the distraught, sobbing woman. I looked at her wrist, Emmett following my gaze. My eyebrows scrunched together, and Emmett reached his hand out to grab her wrist.

She pulled her wrist away, fear evident in her features. I couldn't figure her out. I looked at Emmett, impatient for him to tell me what the bright pink band around her wrist said. It was detailed looking, with scribbles and twists decorating one side. Emmett read it out loud for both of us.

"Bella Swan," Emmett said, looking up at me in confusion. "Twenty. If found, please call Rosalie Hale."

"What is she, a dog?" I asked, laughing. She had to be a serious drug addict to not even know where she lived. Emmett threw me a glare again. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"Emmett, you're being too kind," I mumbled under my breath. He ignored me, leaning forward to whisper something, about me, no doubt, into her ear.

I saw her kick her foot once, her face contorting in some form of concentration. A sheen of sweat mixed with the blood covered her face, and I fought the urge to touch her, to see if she was cold. She closed her eyes, her entire body shuddering as she slumped onto the seat.

"Oh god, is she…?" I asked as Emmett pressed two fingers to her wrist. He shook his head, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew she was trash, but having the most prestigious businessman and his colleague blamed for attacking a girl would definitely ruin our business.

Emmett slipped his arms around her body, lifting her easily from the car. I looked at the white seat in disgust; I would have to get it cleaned, no doubt, since blood covered every inch of the expensive leather interiorshe had been sitting just moments earlier.

I sneered. They took her to my house?

"We're protecting you, sir," Mike explained, his head bowed as he opened my door. I stepped out, avoiding his gaze as I glared at the girl in Emmett's arms.

"How is bringing a drug addict to my house protecting me?" I said, raising one of my eyebrows, scowling at him. He bowed his head lower, walking behind me towards my house.

"Sir, if you came in to the hospital with a girl bloodied, they would assume that you or Emmett had harmed her. We can't have bad publicity."

"Fine," I snapped, seeing his logic but far too stubborn to admit it. "I'm going up to the office for a meeting. Make sure I have my dinner prepared at nine sharp. This girl is nothing, do you understand? You will act as if she is not here."

When I went in, the girl was out of my view. I let out a sigh of relief, trudging up the stairs to my meeting. I slammed the door shut, hoping never to see her again.

I didn't know how wrong I was.

A:N/ Hey, just a starter chapter. Things will be rolling smoothly from here, but at a decent pace. This will not be the typical story, and Bella will not immediately fall in love with him, going out of her way to flirt and flounce. I'm a dramatic kind of storyteller, so if you're looking for some good old romance/angst/drama, I'm probably the girl of your dreams. Updates are every 3 days, considering I have a sequel I'm writing. Thanks for understanding, and I hope you enjoyed it!

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