Disclaimer: not mine...all the credit goes to good ol' steph meyer ____________________________________________________________________
Chapter 2:
BPOV:
Mr. Woodman looked at me with pride, and said, "In a week's time, Grey." He handed me a thick file and proceeded to tell me that this had all the information they were able to aquire regarding Edward Cullen. I thanked Woodman and left the conference room. Once in my office, I closed the blinds and began reading the file. Apparently, my target had a very long list of accomplishments despite his young age- he had a degree from Harvard in Business Management, and had started his own company right out of University. The starting capital was provided by his foster father, Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He had 4 adopted siblings, Alice and Emmet Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale, and his foster mother was Esme Cullen.
I looked at the pictures of the family and marvelled at their beauty. Every single one of them had pale skin and topaz coloured eyes, and they were all indescribably beautiful. Out of all of them, though, Edward was indisputably the most beautiful, with his messy bronze hair and crooked smile. Not that I care about any of these things. He's just another target. I read the rest of his family's files and proceeded to read the company's information. I was surprised by the fact that it was an organization with a philanthropic purpose. It basically provided aid to most of the third world countries and had different branches of support centers for abuse victims, homeless shelters and various asylums across the U.S. and Europe.
If I had gotten this case a few years ago, I would have thought it was fishy that someone appeared to be so good but still was capable of murder. But after working for VCL for 5 years now, I've come to the conclusion that everyone has the ability to do the most horrific things, regardless of their reputation. I took all the files I needed and went home. My appartment was in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. It was a studio on the 20th floor, with wooden floors and half of the wall looking onto Central Park was glass. I loved the open feel of the appartment, and the window provided a wonderful view. I had been to countless countries- Russia, France, Germany, Holland, Spain, Turkey being a few- but for some reason, New York felt like home. I hadn't grown up here, my childhood had been spent in a rainy little town called Forks that I hadn't returned to since my parents...But let's not get into that. My throat constricted when I thought about the past. It had been too much.
It was bad enough that I was going to Seattle, a few hours away from Forks, the weather would be too similar and would bring up memories that I had tried burying deep inside. Memories of how I had lost the two people that meant the most to me, the two people that cared for me so much that they stayed together just so I could have a normal childhood. I could feel the tears forming in my eyes and before they could snake their way down my cheeks, I closed my eyes and tried focusing on my anger instead. The anger I felt for the people who took away my parents, the ones who destroyed me and turned me into the ruthless killer I am now. I often asked myself, why did they spare me?
1 week later-
I was all set for my next mission. I had all the info and weapons I needed. Woodman had already gotten me the assistant's position using his contacts and I was good to go. I arrived at the JFK airport in the company car with Woodman. He gave me the ticket and a black American Express card with the name "Bella Grey" on it. Woodman knew my real name, ofcourse, but I wondered why he had given me this name on the credit card.
"Sir, the name...?"
"It's better than your company name....and no one will know its short for Isabella. You will retain your anonymity. And here are the keys to your appartment and your new car." He gave me two sets of keys, and I put them in my carry-on bag without even looking at them. "Be careful, Grey. We all know what this man is capable of. I don't want to lose my best agent."
I gave him an icy smile, and said, "Don't worry, sir. Cullen's as good as dead."
When I got onto the plane, I put on my iPod and listened to Breaking Benjamin and 3 Doors Down for the entire three hour journey. It was raining when the plane landed at the Sea-Tac airport. I put on my black hoodie, got my bags from baggage claim and went up to a chauffer holding up a sign with 'BELLA GREY' written on it in big, bold letters. I went to him and he smiled, welcomed me to Seattle, and took my bags. He led me to a black Lincoln, and we drove for about ten minutes and stopped at a tall building with the Cullen Corp. logo on it.
I stepped inside and was told by the perky receptionist that Mr. Cullen was waiting for me. I took a deep breath and went up the elevator to the top floor. This was it...crunch time.
A/N: review:)