A/N: Hi guys. This is my first story. It's not something to be taken lightly, there is blackmarket slave trade in this, language, some violence, and lemons. Which is why this is Rated M.

Please read with caution.

Full Summary-

Isabella is the long lost granddaughter of Anastasia Romanov. Her mother, Anastasia's daughter, was murdered when Bella was eleven and she was taken by the same men who killed her mother and then trained to become a sex slave, then to be sold to the highest bidder when she is sixteen.

Edward is a powerful mob boss, having taken over the empire his grandfather had built many years ago. He is made to attend a black market auction by an associate, where he takes an interest in Bella and decides to buy her for himself. After almost six years of training to become a slave, she is now almost robotic in her ways. Can he bring out the life in her? Will she learn to trust him enough to tell him her secrets? And what are the people from their past hiding?

Five years ago.

BPOV-

I looked up from the book I was reading at the kitchen table and saw my mother diligently stirring the pot on the stove. She was making one of my favorites; beef stew. It wasn't much, but the way my mother made it, it was delicious. Plus it didn't take much to make. And simplicity was a good thing for how we lived.

We weren't exactly what you would call poor, but we didn't have much money left after mom paid the bills and got the necessities, so we tried to live simply.

My mom, Renee, was a substitute teacher and my father had been a police officer before he died three years ago in the line of duty. They said that he was at a scene of a home invasion, but the man was still hiding in the house and somehow was able to shoot my father before any other officers showed up. It left my grieving mother with a confused eight year old and the bills were pilling up. When I was nine, I thought that we were going to lose the house because my mom didn't seem to make enough money, when I asked her about it one day, she said that everything was taken care of and I didn't need to worry. I was curious about how she was paying for everything, but I didn't mind after a while, I may have been only nine, but I realized that other kids out there have it so much worse than I do, I'm grateful for a good roof over my head, food on the table, clothes on my back and a loving mother. I wasn't about to bombard her with questions when nothing seemed to be wrong.

When I was younger, mom would tell me all these stories about our ancestors; her parents, her parents parents and so on. Her favorite story that she would tell me was that of my grandparents. She said that our family was apart of the old Russian family, The Romanov's. They were the last family to sit on the throne before Czar Nikolas II was overthrown and killed with his family. But my mother told me that Nikolas's youngest daughter, Anastasia Romanov, managed to escape and go into hiding. She eventually found it safe for her to come out of hiding after many years, assumed a different name and married my grandfather, only having two children; my Uncle Alec and my mother Renee. Alec died when I was only four and he never got married or had children. My mom didn't get married until she was almost thirty and was thirty-six when she had me. I was my parents surprise baby, a very good surprise they told me, but a surprise non the less.

I always thought she was making up far fetched tales to entertain me.

But when I got into school, my history teacher talked a little about the Romanov family, saying that they were killed in World War One. Soldiers had found all the bodies but one, supposedly Anastasia. She was never found and many people said that she had escaped and hid until they had given up the search and she lived out her life normally.

I hadn't starting believing my mothers stories until then. I began asking my mom all kinds of questions and she was more than happy to answer them. All of her answers seemed to make sense, but I always held some doubts.

I thought that no one like me could be related to royalty. But I'm a child, and like all other children, I like to fantasize about these things. Of being a princess and living in a palace where one day a prince would come along and we'd fall in love and live happily ever after. But I found out as I got older that things are never that easy.

Now here I am, waiting at the table for my mom to finish cooking dinner. I looked at my mom, noticing that I looked a lot like her. She was tall, but everyone was tall to me, and thin. Her hair was a dark brown, almost black and fell down in curls past her shoulders. Her face was heart shaped, her eyes were a deep brown, but they didn't sparkle like they did when my father was alive. Her nose was straight and was turned up slightly at the end. Her cheekbones were high and gave her an elegant look. I thought she was the prettiest woman I'd ever seen.

I was pulled from my thoughts when she set a plate down in front of me with a smile. I put my book under my chair and picked up my spoon. Renee sat down next to me with her own plate and we ate in a comfortable silence. I was almost finished with dinner when there was a knock at the door. Renee looked toward the hallway and frowned, obviously not expecting company.

"I'll be right back Bella." She said as she got up, kissing me on my cheek before walking away to answer it.

I put my spoon down, listening carefully for voices. I heard the door open and a mans voice started speaking, but I couldn't make out the words. Renee spoke, saying something about not having something yet. She sounded stressed. The mans voice said something again, louder and more aggressively. I started to get worried, who were these people and what did they want with my mom? There was silence for a few seconds, then I heard the door close. She must have gotten rid of them.

"Mom, who was it?" I called.

When I didn't get an answer I turned around, she wasn't there. I got up from the table slowly and started walking out of the kitchen, I walked past the stairs and down the hallway leading to the entryway.

I froze when I saw my mom being held by a man in a dark suit with a gun pointing against her head. There were two other men standing next to them and they too were holding a gun in there hand.

"Mom?" I asked softly, trying not to panic.

She had tears running down her face and she was shaking her head back and forth vigorously.

"Is this your daughter?" The man in dark gray suit asked.

"Y-yes." Renee muttered through her tears.

He looked me up and down a few times without moving from his spot.

"What is your name?" He asked me. It was the first time I noticed that he had a Russian accent.

"B-Bella." I whispered.

"How old are you Bella?" He asked.

"I'm eleven." I answered him softly

He stared at my face for a moment and then turned to my mom.

"She is very pretty." He said to her. My mom whimpered and clenched her eyes shut.

"Please don't hurt her. Do anything you want to me, just don't hurt her." She pleaded.

"Now Mrs. Swan, we had a deal, and you didn't hold up to your end of it this month. So, we have to do something about that. Now, the way I see it, we have two options here; I kill you, or I kill your pretty daughter. Either way someone dies, all you have to do is choose who." He said, like he was talking about the weather.

I wasn't believing what I was hearing. They wanted to kill us? Who were they? Why were they doing this? Why was that man talking about a deal? So many questions were running through my head and I was desperately trying not to give into my panic.

"Don't her hurt, kill me, just don't hurt my daughter please." Renee sobbed. The man that had spoke before turned toward me and smiled cruelly.

"No!" I yelled. She couldn't die!

"Bella, listen to me, I'm not going to let you die. I am your mother and these are our only choices, I will not make a choice that will end in your death." She said strongly, looking me straight in the eyes.

I shuddered out a sob. This couldn't be happening, it was something out of those cheesy movies that she and I would watch together. But this definitely wasn't a movie, this was a nightmare and I couldn't wake up.

"Mommy…." I trailed off, not knowing what to say in a situation like this.

"I know baby, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for it to end like this. I love you, never forget that." She said.

"Enough. You've said your goodbyes. Take the girl." Gray suit guy barked the last part at the other man that was just standing there, not having said anything yet.

He stalked toward me and grabbed my upper arms roughly. I let out a scream and I could faintly hear my mothers yells and protests but the fear coursing through my body was deafening me, leaving me unable to hear exactly what she was yelling.

The next thing I knew, the man was hauling me out the front door into the darkness of the night and I heard a faint pop from inside my house and I couldn't hear my mom anymore. I struggled against him, kicking out, but he was holding me at an angle that didn't allow me to make contact with any parts of his body.

"Let me go! Let me go! Mom, mom!" I screamed.

"Be quiet little girl." The man carrying me said.

The trunk of a car was opened and he threw me inside, shutting me in.

I banged and banged on the top of the trunk, screaming and crying my throat raw. But no one ever answered, no one never came to my rescue, I didn't know what happened to my mom. It was all darkness, for hours, days, I didn't know. I eventually passed out and woke up sometime later when I heard the trunk being unlocked. I was pulled out of it and push right into hell.

Present day-

I darted up from my cot. I was drenched in sweat from head to toe, my hair sticking to my face and neck.

I had that dream again. About the day on my mothers death.

I hate that dream.

It made me remember things they had told me to forget, things they had beaten and starved out me.

A sex slave wasn't supposed to remember silly things about my parents and my childhood. It wasn't necessary. All I needed to know was how to submit my mind, body and spirit, how to please a man. Anything else you were severely punished for. You didn't want to be punished.

I had learned a long time ago to become an empty shell and I had remained so since then.

I was about to lay back down when he pulled back the curtain to reveal the small cot I use to sleep in, the only thing that we were allowed.

"Get up, you must be ready in an hour. Today is the day." He said flatly in his Russian accent.

"Yes sir." I whispered to him and ducked my head. If I didn't, I'd be punished.

I heard the curtain swoosh shut and his heavy footsteps fade away.

The day he was referring to was the day every year that a small group of us would be paraded on a stage and sold to the highest bidder. This year was my year.

Today, the next level of my hell would being. And I didn't feel anything about it, I didn't even care. I guess that's what they wanted.

A/N:

That was just the prologue, if you want more, please tell me. I won't post another chapter if you don't like it.

Edward will be in the next chapter and it will be longer.

If you review, I'll give you a teaser for the next chapter!