As they drove back to the mall, a sliver of sunshine peaked through the grey, tenebrous clouds, basking the grey skyscrapers and bedraggled streets in a luminescent glow. While the youngest Cullen brooded, the others casually conversed.

"How long do you think James will be absent?" Stefano asked, from the back seat.

"Six months at the most," answered Eleazar, from the wheel, without hesitation. "Four if he can cut Victoria off in Barcelona."

Stefano whistled softly, appreciating the effectiveness of The Don's most fanatical follower. Victoria would be lucky to be in one piece once James was done with her.

While it was common knowledge James was not in the country, the underlying cause for his abrupt departure was not. Besides the Cullen family's inner circle and Aro, Marcus, and Caius Volturi, no one had known how close Don Carlisle had come to meeting death a little over a week ago.

It had been a typical day. The Don was about to leave the office early when the phone rang. Normally, he would have let the infernal thing ring. Nine times out of ten a call around 6:00 P.M would be from his contacts in California, calling to discuss the movie operations he had begun cultivating. That afternoon, however, something was off.

Perhaps it was the icy chill breezing in from the open window, maybe even the still, eerie quiet of the normally busy hallways. Whatever the reason, Carlisle Cullen felt a stir of unease as he prepared to leave his comfortably furnished office, the incessant ringing of the phone reverberating off of the dark wood walls. Disregarding his pre-conceived notions, he walked around the hard wooden desk and answered the phone.

"La Forza Del Destino," he would later use to describe the moment.

On the other end of the line, Alistair Rocco, Carlisle's police informant, was frantic.

"My connections just got back to me, you were right, that stronzo was planning something big," he hissed worriedly, straining to keep his voice down in the undoubtedly crowded police squad room, "whatever you do, do not go outside. I've already informed Emmett and Edward, friends are on the way."

The rest, they say, was history.

"I'm surprised she's been able to make it all the way to Spain, to be honest," Eleazar remarked, offhandedly.

"Yeah, she is a pistol, that's for sure. What do you think Edward?" Stefano turned to his young superior, only to be greeted by silence. "Edward?"

Stefano shouldn't have bothered. Edward was too deep in thought about what had transpired this afternoon.

She snapped out of the trancelike state she had been in as he inched closer to her, pressing herself more firmly against the door, as though she could somehow melt into the wood. In her nervousness, her textbook slipped out of her palms. He caught it with ease, placing it on the side table to his right. Soon, he was before her, her breasts brushing gently against his chest, the crown of her head coming up to his chin.

In the darkness, their breaths, hot and rapid, mingled as one. Her scent overwhelmed his senses; strawberries and freesias. He swallowed thickly, his adams apple bobbing up, then down slowly. She bit her lip in trepidation, the innocent action drawing his eyes.

He noticed, noticed for the first time the way she looked at him, how her eyes seemed to mirror his own; hooded and penetrating and full to the brim with what he knew was lust. All at once the hallway seemed to heat up, his tie and suit feeling horribly tighter than before.

….But there was something beneath the surface. It hid behind the lust, like a shadow. It took him a couple more seconds, but then he had it; restraint. Subtle, yet effective in hindering her desire, and born out of innocence, he knew.

She was Eve, before she had taken a bite out of the apple, Eve, who like all innocent creatures wondered what lay in the forbidden, in the untouchable section of the forest…and despite its taboo nature desired it, yearned for it with such a burning passion it consumed them, until…

He had to touch her now, her creamy, porcelain skin, looking oh so soft even in the dim light. It was no longer a deep, deep wish, but a need, an aching need that would not go away until he accomplished it. As if of its own accord, his hand slowly rose to her face, ghosting over her cheek. Inches from her skin, a strange sensation began to tingle through his fingertips, hot and electric. To his growing excitement, he could feel the heat radiating from her skin, basking his hand in delicious warmth.

Yet, it did not complete its journey. In the back of his mind, the normally dominant gentlemen screamed at him, urging him to back away. Lust driven and impatient, his newly born half wrestled for control.

And then, just as time seemed to stop, it had restarted, in the blink of an eye with the uttering of one simple statement:

"My daughter isn't back yet. It's unusual for her to be this late, highly unusual."

Immediately he remembered where he was and who he was with. He clenched his fist slowly, then let it drop. He stepped to the side.

"Your father's waiting," he whispered, at her questioning stare.

She blinked.

"…I'm already home, papa," she called out, as she walked forward.

God, her voice. It was gentle and beautiful, like an angels hymn. Already he could feel his knees and resolve going weak.

"Hey? Helllooo? Edward!" He snapped out of his daydream. Quite annoyed, he ripped his eyes away from the window and snapped, "WHAT?" Stefano jumped, not expecting his anger.

"…I-I was just wondering, if you think Charles will be a decent temp until James gets back," Stefano said timidly, still cowering over the outburst.

"Oh." He paused.

"….I'm sure he'll be more than adequate. After all, he's second only to James when it comes to devotion to The Don," he answered, absentmindedly. He turned back to the window.

The car was silent the rest of the way, the confusion felt by his associates permeating the small, enclosed space. When they arrived back at the mall, Jasper was waiting for them, calm as ever.

"Where's dad?" Edward asked, as they entered the threshold.

"Discussing business with Lorenzo. Don't worry he'll be joining us shortly," he said. Together they walked side by side deeper into the main hallway, Eleazar and Stefano following closely behind.

"So how did it go?" he asked, as they walked into the living room.

"Just as he suspected. Charles is more than willing, so no problems there," Edward said. They took off their business jackets, hanging them on the coat rack by the door, and gathered around the oval shaped coffee table.

"That's an understatement," laughed Stefano, as he plopped down on the couch. "Guy's delighted….happier than a fish in water."

Jasper nodded in approval. He sat down, the rest following, loosening their ties. Opening his briefcase, Jasper took out his notes.

"If everything goes as planned, then Aro should be out of our hair in a matter of months. His….resignation will open the door for more business, as I'm sure you all know." He smirked at their collective grins. "We'll be meeting with William Black in three weeks, to solidify our alliance."

There was a grumble of reluctance at this news. While they had a truce with Black, the decade-old animosity between their families was still going strong. It was unlikely that it would ever fade, despite their common enemy.

"What about the Denali's?" asked Edward.

Jasper shook his head. "The Don isn't sure about including them in on the plan yet-"

"Christ, Jasper, you're going to be our brother-in-law in less than a fortnight. It's about time you called him Carlisle, or better yet, Pop," said a voice from the hallway. Their eyes went to the hallway, where Emmet's hulking form greeted them, leaning lazily against the door post. He strode forward, taking a seat next to his brother.

The Don's eldest son, Emmet, was a massively built giant, with brown curly hair, capable of crushing a man's wind pipe with one simple squeeze of his hand. But underneath the brute strength, fiery temper, and cunning was a gentle soul, compassionate and loving. Only a key few knew this side of him existed, and he intended to keep it that way.

"Vasilii's being difficult, as always…damn Russian has no patience…like a child…" Emmett muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Precisely why The Don—" Emmett stared at Jasper pointedly, "oh fine, Carlisle," Emmett nodded in approval, "is still hesitant about including them." Everyone was silent at Jaspers admittance. They all knew what Carlisle thought of the Denali's choice of…business. While the Cullen and Quileute's affairs were in no way innocent, Vasilii Denali's was somewhere on a different level, second only, well, to Aro Volturi's.

Just the thought of how Aro made his earnings was enough to make any of them swallow bile. Their business was in no terms innocent, but there was always a line, even amongst criminals. Aro had crossed that line time and time again, but this time…this time he had obliterated it.

It simply would not do.

"Well, whatever our ill-feelings towards them, it doesn't change the fact that having the Denali's on our side will help us tremendously when everything goes down," Eleazar said.

"Indeed."

For the second time, the small party turned their gazes back to the hallway, where the Don himself stood. With the face of an angel and an air of authority that would make a king bow down to him, he was a formidable presence.

"I see you've already briefed everyone," he said to Jasper, strolling over to where they were all sitting. "Excellent."


Saturday saw the arrival of the Swan's...and another test in Edward's control. The mall was a gated collection of suburban homes on Staten island, all owned by The Don through his olive oil business. Several of the homes were used to house button men during war time, but a few were reserved for The Don and his family.

In the family house, Edward brooded in the dark, his hands strumming absentmindedly over his beloved piano. He had heard the arrival of the cars, knew that they had arrived, yet did not move from where he was. Again their first meeting replayed in his mind, but this time, not with lust or desire. No, time had corroded the blanket of fantasy that had previously shrouded it.

Confusion, fear, and horror infected and tainted the precious memory, making him wish he could wash his brain out with bleach and lighter fluid. He was not a monster, not a lecherous beast, and yet the way he reacted to her… He shuddered at the memory. He had nearly lost control, like an animal. The very thought put a bitter taste in his mouth.

No one had ever affected him like this before. Sure, he was by all means not a saint, but he was a gentleman. It's what he was raised to be. And yet one encounter had effortlessly obliterated twenty-three years worth of teachings from his family. What she must think of him….despair made his fingers freeze. He removed his hands, turning his body away from the keys.

Outside, Alice Cullen chattered away to a superbly overwhelmed Bella Swan, the pixies outgoing nature making up for her petite stature by ten-fold. A force to be reckoned with, with her short, dark bobbed hair and fire-cracker charm, even the normally timid Bella was falling under her spell.

"So, how long will you be staying here?" Alice asked, as they both watched the various men bring the Swan's few possessions into the house across from their own.

"I don't know. A couple of months, I think," Bella answered, uncertain. She turned around, examining the mall with interest. "At least, that's the gist I got from my father," she trailed off.

"Gist?"

"He's always vague when it comes to something work-related."

"Yeah, same here."

The two young women gave each other knowing looks. Alice had come to terms with her father's…..choice of employment a long time ago, at age 12, to be exact, when she had begun reading the newspapers. Bella, on the other hand, had grown up in Sicily, where Omerta was a way of life. They were not clueless airhead's, they knew what Carlisle's "business" entailed. After all, the mafia originated in Italy, did it not?

"So, you're coming to the wedding, right?" Alice asked, changing the subject. Bella smiled.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," she said. Alice grinned in response. The two stood side by side in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the movers, before Alice spoke again.

"It must have been something big," she said, referring to their previous discussion topic. "My brother's and father, I've never seen them this way before."

"Yes, I see what you mean," Bella nodded, "just last week I came home and walked in while my father was having a screaming match over the phone in Italian. I'd never even heard him raise his voice before."

"Exactly! And Emmett and father have been so serious lately. Edward, well, he's always been the serious one, but come to think of it, he's been acting quite peculiar the past couple of days," Alice remarked, tilting her head to the side slightly. Wrapped up in her thoughts, she took no notice of Bella's sudden interest in the fern bush in front of them.

"I mean, I know he broods, but I've been finding him zoned out in the weirdest places; in the hallway, at his piano…. always in the dark." As she rambled, a gentle blush bloomed across Bella's cheeks.

Inside, Eleazar leaned against Carlisle's desk in shock, his epiphany frying his mind into a mind-numbing stupor.

"My god, I understand," Eleazar whispered, awestruck. They—himself, Edward, and Stefano— were in the study, waiting for Carlisle. Edward ignored his utterance, his eyes fixed on a certain dark-haired beauty outside, beyond the glass, talking to his sister. Stefano, on the other hand, was reeled in hook, line, and sinker.

"What are you talking about?" he asked quietly, confused, joining him by the desk.

"Edward." Eleazar inclined his head towards the transfixed young man by the window for Stefano's benefit. "I can't believe I didn't see it before. The signs were all there, and he was alone in that hallway with her for more than five minutes without making a sound…."

"Get to the point," Stefano snapped.

"Don't you see?" Eleazar said, his voice rising slightly in his excitement, "Think Stefano, when did his odd behavior start?" Stefano racked his brain.

"Wednesday, right? That afternoon we gave Charles the proposition," he said, finally.

"Exactly. And who did he meet for the first time that day?" Eleazar asked, aggravated by his associates slow brain activity.

"What are you talking about, Edward already knew Charles-" Stefano froze, realization finally sinking in. He turned swiftly, meeting Eleazar's serious gaze, then back to Edward, still lost in thought. He looked back to Eleazar.

"No," Stefano said. Eleazar gave him a look that said the opposite.

"Yes."

Stefano's eyes went back to Edward, amazed.

"…But…how? This isn't—"

"What the hell are you two talking about? Edward finally asked, tearing his eyes away from the window to glare at them.

"You heard every word?" Eleazar asked.

"Naturally."

He walked over to them, hands clenched inside of his jacket pockets. Eleazar nodded, not the least bit surprised in Edward's heightened hearing. Smiling slightly, and both hands in his pockets, he walked past him to the window, coming to a stop inches from the polished glass panes. "It seems you've been stricken by the thunderbolt," he said, as he watched Alice Cullen talk to Bella Swan.

"The what?" Edward asked.

Before he could answer, the door burst open as Carlisle, Emmett, and Jasper entered the room.

"So, the way I see it, I won the b—" Emmett stopped talking, sensing the tension in the air. They looked first to Eleazar, who's back was still to them, then Edward and Stefano. All three recognized the youngest Cullen's stiff demeanor, his balled fists a dead giveaway.

"…Everything alright?" Carlisle asked, eying his youngest son's tense stance wearily. Behind him, Emmett and Jasper watched the scene unfolding in front of them with mild interest. Both were well acquainted with Edward's annoyingly stoic tendencies.

Stefano chuckled, moving to Edward's side. "Everything's fine. Eddie-boy here," he slung his arm over the young man's shoulder jovially, "has been hit by the thunderbolt."

The Don's eyes widened in shock. He looked to Eleazar, searching for confirmation. With a grin, the Consigliere gave it with a nod of his head.

"I hate to interrupt this academy award winning moment in dramatics, but can someone please tell us what's going on? What the hell is a thunderbolt? Emmett asked, looking from his father to Eleazar in annoyance. Jasper nodded in agreement.

Eleazar moved away from the window and took a cigarette out of his front pocket, placing it in his mouth. He swiped the silver lighter off of the desk top and lit the paper, casually leaning against the polished oak as he did so. As the room slowly filled with the bitter scent of smoke, he finally elaborated:

"In Sicily, when a man has a powerful, almost dangerous longing for a particular woman, they call it the thunderbolt. It's quite rare. Most men go their whole lives without ever experiencing a thunderbolt, and the few who do, well, that's it for them. It only happens once." He let the information sink into the atmosphere as he took another puff of his cigarette.

"…..Right," Edward scoffed, rolling his eyes, after several seconds. "Are we done with the wives-tales?"

Eleazar smiled, amused by the youngest Cullen's disbelief. "You don't—"

"Of course not. Really, Eleazar? I never pegged you as a romantic…"

Carlisle chuckled, drawing his son's gaze. "You believe this?" Edward asked him, surprised.

"I've seen it happen before." He walked over to where Edward was standing, and placed a hand affectionately on his shoulder. "Since the first time you met her, how often has she dominated your thoughts?" he asked, gently.

Silence.

Later, after Edward had left with Stefano, Carlisle asked Eleazar the question:

"When did he meet her?"

"Wednesday. She arrived home in the middle of the proposition."

Eyes lighting up in recognition, The Don smiled, nodding his head in approval.

"La Forza Del Destino," he whispered to himself.