Love Story

Skanky Frankie

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor the basic plot belong to me. I twisted things a bit, but the majority is still not mine :(

Notes: I really enjoy two things in life. Tragedy and mafia. However, where B & E are concerned, I feel like their story is tragic enough. So rather than make things too awful for them, I'm taking a creative freedom with the story of Romeo and Juliet, throwing in gangsters, modernizing the language, and giving things a sexy/happy feel. Oh, there will be some angst, some complications, but things will end up happier than normal. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

Bella Swan hated parties. The fact that she was the cherished, only daughter of one of the biggest mafia bosses in the American north-west, she was raised and expected to be a princess. Being a princess meant she was pampered (of course) and that any whim she had was met immediately. It also meant that she was doomed to be restricted in many ways. She couldn't simply decide to go to the mall, like a normal teenager, and just hop in her car and speed off. It was a whole process - she had to notify her father or mother get permission, wait for the armored limo to pull up to the back entrance, and be escorted from store to store with her entourage of body guards. And they were really nice guys - the body guards - but their hulking presence was a constant reminder that she would never be the same as the rest of the girls her age. And it was all because of her last name: Swan.

Her every need was met. Rene would rather have her daughter dressed in the finest designer things, dresses and heels and the best quality, most expensive designer outfits that any eighteen year old girl without would positively kill to obtain. She had a personal shopper, a personal stylist and make up artist, so that whenever she left the house with her black-suited guards, every person that resided in Forks, Washington State knew just by looking at her who she was. She had to be perfect, beautiful, untouchable. A representation of her father's business - a walking, talking, fake-smiling reminder that he meant business, he dealt business, and he would do whatever it took to get his money and rule.

It was a charmed life, being a mafia princess.

"There," Alice said, pulling away from Bella. She was the only friend that Bella really had, and it had been a business relationship at first. She was the personal stylist Rene had hired, the one who dressed Bella in outlandish, stylish outfits like her very own paper doll. But the relationship quickly grew from one where Bella couldn't stand Alice - due to a few very ridiculous looking outfits Alice had suggested (one involving a dyed purple fur color on a leather jacket) - and into one of friendship. Alice was only a few years older than Bella, but the two got on famously. So well, in fact, that Rene increased Alice's salary and put her up in her very own room in the Swan mansion, just one door down from Bella.

"I hope this goes by painlessly," Bella said, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. Alice had, as always, done a wonderful job. Her heavy, dark hair was pulled into an intricate up-do, with a diamond headband and a few wispy curls that framed her face. Her make up was light, just a little smoky-eye effect and some blush to warm up her cheekbones. The last bit would be the dress, another Alice designed number, with a pair of white velvet ballet flats. Bella had had enough accidents in the spiked stilettos that Alice was always strapping her feet into to know that they were simply out of the question.

"You act as though you're getting a shot or something," Alice said, helping her younger friend up. She was already ready - had been for a while, as she had to be prepared before Bella so that they could go straight down to the ball. It was a masquerade, a celebration of the summer season and the first summer of Bella's adult-hood. She would now be considered an adult in their society, marrying age. And the process of finding her a suitor would be much more complicated and difficult than most people. Alice worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she laid in bed thinking about this, almost every night - it wasn't that Bella was a fragile, delicate girl. Rather the contrary. But it wasn't about love, it wasn't about romance or friendship at all - her marriage would go to the best man to take over her father's job.

Not someone who was marrying her to be the next biggest mafia man of Forks.

Bella held her arms up as Alice dropped the garment over her head, careful of the beautiful hairstyle she had worked so long on. It was a filmy, cream colored number that had been approved by the Swans. Bella assumed it was another dress to make her look like a nine year old - white, as always, with a conservative neckline that would most likely hit below the knee.

"Everyone's going to be here for you," Alice was saying, smoothing down the fabric, which felt silky to Bella's skin. "You should be happy! It's like another birthday party. I saw some presents being led on the table in the foyer..."

"Great, just what I always wanted," Bella said, rolling her dark eyes heavenward. "More attention. What I thrive for."

Alice chuckled to herself, and Bella thought again of how much she would rather be her. To be free, to be able to go for a run (not that Bella specifically wanted to run, because she was far too clumsy for that and would wind up hurting himself) without a fuss.

"Well, you're definitely going to get more attention than you're used to in this," Alice said, before sliding another piece of fabric over Bella's head.

"Is that - is that a corset?!" Bella cried, glaring down at her torso. "No way, get it off of me!"

"Bella, don't be difficult," Alice said sternly. "It's only for a couple hours, and your father was particularly excited when he saw that this was the dress you were going to wear. He said it reminded him of the dress he saw Rene in for the first time."

"You wear it," Bella grumbled. She would happily trade dresses - Alice was wearing a gray number, a kind of flapper-inspired dress with sparkly fringe that swung every time she moved, and it looked like it was made for her petite frame. She was a tiny girl, with dark hair that was curled into tight, bouncy ringlets that evening. Her lips were a shiny crimson, and her dark eyes were dramatically made up. She would fit right in with the usual party-goers.

"Ah, if only I could. But its custom made, and you've got a bit more bust than I do..." Alice quietly grunted while yanking the string to tighten the corset. The boning was suffocating Bella, and she gasped for air while clinging to the edge of the sink. The bathroom was brightly lit, and the stone floor was heated beneath her bare feet. She could see the bottom of her dress skimming the floor, and tried to focus on breathing. "Sorry, I know it's tight," Alice said, once she was finished. She stood on tiptoe in front of her best friend, knowing that Bella was caught in a life that she was not fit for. She should be living in some normal house, surrounded by books and doting parents and doing what she wanted, rather than be forced to parade around like a piece of meat for the highest bidder. But she was stuck, she couldn't change those things, and Alice was trying her best to be a bit of sunlight in the girl's life. It helped that she adored Bella, found her to be much smarter and more mature than she could have expected... And the fact that her body guards, well the one blonde in particular, did not hurt.

"Let's just... get this over with," Bella said, hugging her friend briefly. The two girls hurried out of the bathroom, into the huge room that was Bella's bedroom. The four-poster bed, with filmy white curtains drawn, high windows that overlooked the back gardens and swimming pool, and the shelves and shelves packed with books. It was all dark mahogany, stone floors, and beautiful. But it did not contain much personality, and it wasn't a particularly warm room - even with the fireplace.

"Isabella!" the chirpy, yet somehow demanding voice of Rene Swan cried, throwing open the tall double-doors to her room. Rene was a small woman, with delicate features and a fiery gaze. She was wearing a midnight-blue gown that was strapless, with long silk cloves and a matching, expensive and beautiful molded mask. Her dark hair was pulled half up, with a cascade of curls down one side of her neck. She gasped and clutched her hands to her chest, where a beautiful and gaudy diamond necklace (yes, all real) hung from her neck. "Why, you look positively ravishing! Alice, you're a miracle worker."

"Thank you, Madame Swan," Alice said, curtsying slightly. "It didn't take much work. Bella's so naturally beautiful..."

"Oh, now," Rene said, smiling brightly. "We all look lovely, and the guests are all arriving. We should be good hosts, right Isabella?"

"Right, mother," Bella said, nodding.

"Maybe we should tighten that corset up first... Alice is so small, I'm sure I could put some more muscle into it," Rene said, surveying her daughter's waist. Bella sighed - she was pretty sure that if they tightened it more, her breasts would be up beneath her chin and she would suffocate. She protested, insisting that she was too excited for the party to wait a moment longer. She and Alice held hands, her own squeezing her best friend's tightly, enough to make Alice wince and glare, to the ball room.

It was the last place on Earth she wanted to be, but that was how she felt nearly all of the time. Nothing new.

***

"Are you ready?" James asked impatiently, loading his pistol into the under-arm holster. It was only a precaution, but it was necessary. No one would mess with them if they had guns on their person, at least not the wannabe thugs on the street. Going down into Forks to crash the Swan's masquerade party was a bit of a death wish, but Edward Cullen could have cared less. What was his life when it could have been his father's? Dying by the hands of the Swans was not going to happen, and it would be the most disgraceful death he could imagine. He kept extra rounds in the pocket on the inside of his tuxedo jacket.

The Swans would have no idea who they were, and Emmett had managed to slip them a few extra invitations. Having an inside man was a wonderful thing - especially one as the little princess's personal body guard. The security would be heavy, but easy enough to navigate if they had the invites. They wouldn't expect a Cullen, the feared and revered Cullens, to get their hands on invitations. They wouldn't expect them to crash a party - not that any of the Swans knew what the Cullen children looked like. There were three of them - Edward, James, and Rosalie. They were all similar in looks - James and Rosalie were both fair, with long blonde hair and blue eyes and tall, athletic bodies. They were twins, both older than Edward, and where they got the most beauty of the family, Edward got the best share of brains. He was clever, cunning, and he was being groomed to take over once their father passed on, or wanted to retire.

But he was good looking, of course, with peculiar bronze colored hair that was always messy and wind-blow. A devil may care confidence and the kind of smile that could easily melt anyone's heart. He had a trustable face, he was not intimidating, and he was smart enough to know when to shut up.

"I've been ready," Edward said quietly. He was playing with the cheap black mask, one that covered his eyes and the top of his nose, which he had picked up at a costume store. Black for him, white for James, and a red one for Rosalie - it would match her dress. He was impatient to get going - the drive would take nearly a half hour, and he wanted to arrive before the party guests were leaving. The whole idea began as a prank, a way to sneak into the Swan household and drink their liquor and woo their women. But Edward had an ulterior motive, one that he hadn't shared with his siblings. He wanted to find the Swan girl, Isabella.

It wasn't the nicest thing in the world to do, but he was thinking of kidnapping her.

The precious Bella Swan, only daughter of Charlie and Rene Swan, his father's enemies. They were his enemies, too, though he wasn't in charge or in power or anything like that yet. But if he could kidnap the daughter, send them a message and have them surrender their power to him... Before his father was even dead - well, it would make a great impression. James seemed to think, that as the eldest son, he would be the next in power. How sad, Edward thought with a rueful smile. He was delusional.

He wouldn't kidnap her tonight - not when it was so obvious, where there were so many people. But he needed to know what she looked like, and this would be the easiest route for that.

"Darling sister," James said, banging on the bathroom door. "Are you about finished in there?"

The door whipped open, and Rosalie glared at her twin. She looked gorgeous, as always, in a long red number slit half-way up her thigh, halter-topped with a plunging neckline and the back cut right to the top of her bottom. She was dazzling, obviously, in spiked heels died to match her dress, and her long silky blonde lockers hung long and shiny to her waist. "I've been ready. Are we sure these masks are necessary? It seems pointless that I put on make up to have to put it on..."

"Well Rosalie, you may be that suicidal," Edward said, rolling his bright green eyes, "but I am not."

She sighed, annoyed, as they went together to the car. They were taking Edward's silver Volvo, which more than irritated Rosalie. It wasn't flashy enough, didn't say enough about their wealth, and it didn't have the roar of her Jag. But Edward loved it - low-key, but still expensive in a modest way. They rode in silence the majority of the way, ignoring the speed limit as they whipped by miles and miles of the Olympic Peninsula's forest. It was beautiful in the moonlight, and the high ways were empty, making their time impeccable.

Edward wasn't feeling nervous or excited or anything really, as he drove. His siblings were both idiots, and he wasn't happy about having to drag them along. They were smarter than the average person, but not quite as quick as he was. He was praying they wouldn't embarrass him, as both were prone to do. Rosalie was sure to draw much attention to herself, with all the dark, less than savory characters that were sure to be there. She fed of that emotion though; their lust for her body, and it was some kind of strange confidence booster for her.

James, on the other hand, loved women of all kinds. Old, young, pretty, hideously unattractive, it didn't matter. Wooing his way into panties was a kind of game to him, and the numbers of those women that had shared his bed were way up into the hundreds. Having money, being good looking, was the perfect way to attract women - any and all - and he was proud of his reputation. Being in a room full of women that he had never met, never bedded, was an exciting prospect for him.

Once they arrived, they joined the line of people wandering into the house. At the door, Emmett gave Edward a slight, imperceptible nod, taking his invitation. Rosalie and James were both greeted by the quiet, strange looking other guard, who had honey blonde hair and must have been Jasper, Emmett's partner in body guarding duties. They were both wearing all black tuxedos and wore ear-pieces, and in the twilight of the setting sun, they were intimidating. Or they should have been, to anyone else, but Edward was not a person easily intimidated by anyone.

"Wow," James said, frowning in displeased surprise. The Swan home was beautiful, with glossy marble floors and a grand foyer with two curved stairways leading to the upstairs. The chandeliers were crystal, casting beautiful warm light onto the party goers. Everyone was glowing, perhaps from the alcohol the white-coated waiters were passing out on silver trays. They fit right in, all properly dressed, which was pleasing to Edward.

"Shall we split up, mingle?" James asked, taking a flute of champagne from one of the trays, one for each of them. Edward tossed his back in a single gulp, and nodded. He stepped away from his siblings, feeling the heavy weight of his gun under his arm. Maybe this was a bad idea - there were so many people there, how would he be able to tell who was who. He recognized a few people, a few of the men that sort of worked for his father... No one in the close inner circle, but a few of the slimier people that were notorious for late payments, losing money... Edward mentally noted who they were, so he could remember to tell his father later.

Mask firmly in place, he was watching everyone. Charlie and Rene Swan were both in what had to have been specifically the ball room, where everyone was dancing to the live band. Edward was glad that his family did not put on these affairs - though he was sure James and Rosalie would disagree with him - so he wouldn't have to deal with entertaining all the people that would show up.

He drank another flute of champagne, scouted out the room, then decided to make a bee-line for the bathroom. He relieved himself, then turned to the mirror and washed his hands. He glanced up, wondering at his reflection. In another life, he wouldn't have to do these things. Entertain thoughts of kidnapping an innocent girl, kill people, and duel daily with those he hated based solely on their name. He was not disgusted with himself, though he was ashamed - but it was the world he lived in, the hand he had been dealt, and he was simply trying to make the best of it.

Sighing, he turned to leave. Now was not the time to have these thoughts, to worry about things. Not while he was at the enemy's home. Not when he was surrounded by a thousand security guards more than able to shoot him. Not when Jacob Black, the faithful cousin and lapdog for Charlie Swan, was there.

He posed the only problem. Jacob Black, a large, muscular guy that could have been some kind of body builder. He was the muscle, in the running for the next leader of the Swan business. The only possible way that would happen would be if he married Bella - which, though they were cousins, it was through some kind of marriage, and completely legal - or if she died. It was hard to imagine which he preferred, though Edward had heard from reputable sources that the Swan daughter was very, very beautiful, if not a bit peculiar. But Edward could imagine that Jacob would rather have a wife of his own picking, would rather Bella take the murdered or abducted or some other unpleasant route.

That was the only flaw in the kidnapping plan.

Scanning the room again, he caught sight of a small, dark haired girl. Alice. She was the personal friend/hired hand to Bella Swan. Her nursemaid or some modern version of such thing. She beautiful, and Edward smiled a crooked grin at the thought - Emmett would obviously appreciate his job here, with all the attractive things to look at. But if Alice was near, it must mean that the Swan princess was as well.

"Excuse me," a quiet, though musical voice said. Edward turned, glaring at the source of the voice, only to find the most beautiful creature he had ever witnessed before him. She was the only person in the room without a mask, which was startling enough. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in an intricate, curly way, and she wore a striking white silk dress and corset, stretched tightly to the side with some small, expensive looking crystals, and the extra length of the dress skirted the floor.

"Hello," he said, after gathering his composure.

"Hi," she said, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. She was angelic, and Edward was finding it hard to breathe. How could a woman so beautiful be attending a Swan festivity? It seemed blasphemous. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, and Edward noticed.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to stare," he said, blinking a few times. "You're just..."

"I'm really flattered, thanks," Bella said, sounding anything but. She offered him her hand, and he was shocked at the pleasure to actually touch her. He took it, raising her pale, dainty knuckles to press on a soft, faint kiss.

"What is your name?" Edward asked, hungry, craving more. It was not often a woman as beautiful, a fair angel such as this, appeared before him. He wanted to know her, devour her, and ravish her. He ached to possess her.

"I'm sure you know," she replied, sounding irritated.

"I promise, I do not," he replied, unwilling to let go of her small, warm hand. "Please, please tell me - I have to know who the most breath-taking woman I have ever met is."

"What is your name, sir?" she replied, arching an eyebrow at him. "You do not behave as a gentleman, at least not the gentlemen I have been overwhelmed with this evening. You're acting like a mad man."

"I am mad," Edward replied, squeezing her hand between both of his. "I am mad at the sight of you. That you're playing such mean games with me. If you don't give me your name, I must have a kiss."

"A kiss?" she scoffed, shaking her head. He noticed the pale, smooth column of her neck, and wished to kiss her, touch her there. How was this possible? He inhaled, and the sweet, freesia smell coming off of her could not be replicated or come from some vile perfume. It was her natural scent, and it was intoxicating him. "How could I kiss you, when you're practically a stranger to me? If you can't know my name, you demand a kiss? That logic is backwards, sir."

Edward surveyed her, before taking a step towards her. "I must have you. I must know you."

"Must? Or what?"

"Isabella! Isabella!"

The girl frowned, glancing around, but Edward ignored it. "Please, please, my beautiful angel," he said, leaning closer, so his lips were mere centimeters from hers. "Just one... little... kiss..." Perhaps it was their proximity, but he found her gazing up at him through hooded eyes, her lips parting just a fraction.

"Isabella!"

"Just one, small kiss?" she asked, as though to affirm his intentions.

"Yes," he said, before capturing her soft, pink mouth with his own.

***

Though her mother was calling her, Bella felt the world suddenly drop away. She clung to him, her hands clutching at his bicep - which felt hard and strong - and the other tangling in his messy locks. This was surely the most bizarre way a man had ever introduced himself to her, and it was completely Earth-shattering. His lips were soft, moist against her own, and causing the strangest sensation to course through her veins. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to her brain, due to the tight corset.

"Sweet," he said, after pulling away for a moment.

"Isabella!" Glancing over his broad shoulder, Bella found her mother shoving her way through the crowd, Jacob and Alice in tow. Poor Alice, she thought, but the moment was a selfish one. Grinning mischievously, she pulled the man - whomever he was, handsome as he was a mystery - into a dark alcove of the room.

"Are we hiding?" he asked, cupping one of her rapidly blushing cheeks before descending on her lips again, without waiting for an answer. The world swirled around her, music and light and color blending into one warm mash.

"My mother is on the warpath," Bella replied, pressing her against him. What was she doing? Her first kiss by a man she didn't know, with no name and a bad lie of not knowing who she was. Everyone there knew who she was - every man wanted to be her husband, so he could rule over Forks. She shivered from the delicious ministrations of his lips and tongue and hands, before breaking apart again.

"She's coming again," Bella said, hearing her name faintly over the whir in her ears.

"No," Edward said, pressing kisses over her cheeks and neck. "You smell wonderful."

"Thanks," Bella said, anxiety knotting in her stomach.

"Bella!" Suddenly, Alice was at her side, tugging her out of the cozy embrace. She sent a glare at the guy; the handsome, mysterious stranger that Bella was suddenly aching for as well as he claimed to ache for her. "Your mother is calling! She craves a word!"

"I heard," Bella said, sending a wistful look at her perfect stranger. His mask was up on his hair, revealing his face. He was so unbearably handsome; it almost hurt to look at him. Bright green eyes, pouted lips from their fevered kissing, and a lopsided smile that tugged at her heart, pleadingly. But the expression on his face was one of hurt bewilderment.

He watched her, and Bella could feel his eyes burning holes in her back. "She's got a suitor or something," Alice said, sounding annoyed. "Do you know who that is?"

"No," Bella said, feeling heat creep down from her cheeks to neck. "Do you?"

"That is Edward Cullen - son of you enemy," Alice said, no longer dragging Bella across the dance floor. The two stood, gazing at each other as the pieces fell into place. Suddenly, Bella's heart began racing, and a nausea swept over her. Cold sweat and dread filled her body. The son of her father's enemy, the only man she could never love - and she was already feeling herself falling. The world swam in front of her dark brown eyes, before rolling up in her head. "You can never see him again," Alice said, and it was the last thing she heard before collapsing in the middle of the crowded room.