It has been a week since the funeral of her parents and Isabella was just this side of the line of completely going crazy. She had thought that the worst thing that ever could have happened to her was the death of her parents, but she was wrong. No, even worse than that was returning home where everyone had found out who she was. People that had never so much as looked at her before were suddenly trying to be her best friend. Others that she had literally never even seen before in her life were popping out of the woodwork like fucking cockroaches.

But, even worse than that was the cameras. They were everywhere. She went to class, there they were. To the coffee shop, there they were. They didn't even attempt covertness. No, they were right there, in her face, taking pictures of her pores. She didn't know how to deal with this bullshit. This was something that only happened on the very rare occasion that she actually went with her mother to the Honorary Ball in Italy, not here.

When her mother came to America all those years ago she never told anyone who she was because she was trying to get AWAY from this crap, so a grand total of seven people had ever known that she was a princess. Her brothers, just like every other famous person, had the best drivers in the world at their disposal so when they came for the wedding, they were able to give the media the slip, so they never got a shot of Athenodora or Charles that day and thus avoiding anyone finding out that the soon to come Isabella was a member of the Italian Royal Family.

Though her actual last name was a gimme, she never went by it unless she was in Italy. She went by Isabella Swan, leaving Voturi off when she introduced herself. No one ever questioned it seeing as how that was her dad's last name and the one her mother also went by. Volturi was on her license but only because it had to be and really, not a lot of people she showed it to knew the significance of it.

All that work to hide her title went to shit when her parents died and the funeral was broadcasted all across the globe and her face was plastered on nearly every magazine she had ever heard of. She would never understand how celebrities dealt with this without going to jail for laying a mother fucker out. Tightening her grip on the strap of her backpack, she pressed her lips together as yet another camera was shoved in her face making her eyes narrow into near slits.

The guy with the camera looked the pissed off princess in the eye and gave her a grin, "I would love to be the first to get some kind of statement from you."

A little growl rose in Isabella's throat as she glared a little darker, "no." Stepping around the man, she had every single intention of simply walking away, until she heard him say something to the effect of calling her an uptight bitch. Freezing in place, her back went ridged before she turned on her heel, formed a fist, cocked her arm back and decked him in the fucking nose. Bending down and picking up the camera that he had dropped, she opened the back before yanking the negatives out into the sunlight and destroying them before dropping the camera on the sidewalk.

Turning her head to the side, she saw yet another camera flash and gave him a wide grin. Crossing her arms, she called out, "hey, you want a statement?"

Looking at one of his biggest competitors lying at her feet and bleeding, he nodded and carefully made his way over. The amount of money he would make getting the first statement from the Italian princess would pay his bills for at least the next six months so if she decked him too, it would be worth it. Pulling his recorder out of his pocket, he looked at Isabella, "what would you like to say, Your Highness?"

Grinning a little wider at that, Isabella's voice was as sweet as a Georgia peach. "Two weeks ago, you couldn't have cared less about what I did or where I went or who I was with. Where I get my coffee, where I eat, what that is, that in my business, no one else's. I am a person that deserves the same respect to my privacy as anyone else, something that you people should really keep in mind because I have diplomatic immunity in every country on the planet. Don't fuck with me."

After giving the reporter a beaming smile, Isabella simply turned around again and continued her way to her car to go home for the day, pulling her phone out of her bag as she opened the door and slipped inside.

*X*

It was very early morning when Demetri's phone rang on his nightstand, ripping him out of the dream world and into the land of the living. Lifting his face out of his pillow, he looked over at the glowing screen from a moment before dropping his head back down with a groan. He hadn't slept well thus far and this was a pure annoyance. Without lifting his head again, he blindly reached over and felt around for his phone, flipping it open and putting it to his ear, "Caio."

"Oh my god, the extreme bullshit that is the American media is going to give me a fucking complex."

Groaning a little as he pushed himself up onto his forearms, Demetri ran a hand down his face, "what happened this time, Iz?"

"The fuckers are like cockroaches, I swear. Where there is one, there are hundreds and you can't kill them all. Ugh, had I known shit was going to be like this, I would have just stayed in Italy. And, actually, to that point, I don't know which is really worse. The media or the rest of the population that is also up my Royal ass. At least there, there is a fucking reason for the headache. There my title matters. Here, yeah, not so fucking much."

Rolling over onto his back, Demetri tossed his arm over his eyes and sighed a little, "I kinda remember telling you that your blood always matters. The difference now is it's acknowledged whereas before it was not. No matter where you go, you are who you are. You can't change it." There was a dark chuckle in his ear making Demetri sit up in bed, "what did you do?"

"I am pretty sure I just broke this one guy's nose."

Falling back onto his bed, Demetri draped his arm above his head and gave the ceiling a flat looks, "please tell me you're joking." When there was a giggled 'nope' in his ear, he rubbed his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose, "you do realize that by doing that, you just made things a lot worse for yourself, don't you?"

"Believe me when I say that is not possible. Do you know that the entire country knows what kind of tampons I use because there was a wonderful picture of me buying them on the cover of a fucking magazene yesterday? I have only been home for four days. I didn't think that they put out issues that damn fast. Fortunately, because of that cover, if there becomes a need for me to defend myself against the bastard, I can blame PMS."

Demetri just chuckled a little at that before covering his mouth when he yawned. Blinking a little and clearing his throat a bit, "well, there is always that I suppose."

"Oh, Jeeze. I'm so sorry, Demetri. It's like, four in the morning there. I woke you up, didn't I?"

Grunting a bit, Demetri stretched out in bed before looking at his clock, "four thirty, actually, and no you didn't"

"You're a horrible fucking liar, you know that? I'm sorry. I'll let you get back to bed. Besides, I gotta call and wake up one of my uncles and tell them what happened before they find out on their own. Uncle Caius is going to think this is funnier than hell but Uncle Aro is gonna be pissed."

Demetri yawned again and groaned a little, "I'm sure it will be fine. Chances are they won't even be mad about it, probably jealous of the fact they have more than likely wanted to do that themselves on more than one occasion and you did it first."

There was a moment's pause before she came back, "hope you're right because Uncle Aro is calling. Damn their quick with that shit. I'll talk to you later, Demetri."

Nodding a little, "have a good evening, Tesoro." Once she hung up, Demetri closed his phone and picked up his remote, turning on his TV and changing it to the international news channel, smirking a little as the top report of the morning was a beautiful clip of Isabella slamming her fist into some poor bastard's face. Chuckling a little, he went ahead and got out of bed to start his morning, "good girl, Izzy"

*X*

After switching lines, Isabella waited a second longer before sighing and putting her phone to her ear, "he deserved it, Uncle Aro."

There was a light chuckle in her ear before Aro's amused voice came through, "while I am inclined to believe that, Stella, there are far better ways to deal with the media than that."

"He called me a bitch. It was either that or something else that could have potentially been far worse. I felt that I took the best route presented to me and did him a service at the same time."

There was a light snort, "oh, I can't wait to hear this. Go ahead."

Biting her lip a little knowing this was either going to do her in and make him yell or end it and make him laugh. It was really a toss up. "Well, it was either make him bleed or make him cry. I did him a service because it is far more manly to do the former over the latter when your face is splattered all over the world. Tell me the truth, which you rather be known as, the guy that got a bloody nose for sticking it where it didn't belong or the whiny little bitch that cried on international television?"

When she heard a familiar deep laugh in the background, Isabella sagged in relief. She was apparently on speaker and Uncle Caius was present. There was no way she going to get in trouble with him there. She could literally murder someone and he wouldn't say a word about it, he would help her bury the body.

"Good girl, Stella. I cannot tell you how many times over the years I wish I would have done something similar. Oh, to have the gall of a teenager again, huh Aro?"

When she heard Aro chuckle as well, she knew she was in the clear. "Absolutely. However, Stella. In the future, let's hold onto your temper a little harder, shall we? It is one thing for it to happen now so close to recent events but quite another for it to happen later on."

Though she was grinning, the smile wasn't in her voice, "of course, Uncle Aro. I'm sorry."

"No need for apologies, Stella. Just mind your temper in the future and we will let this loss slide, deal?"

"Will a promise to try suffice? Their really bad and are always there. And by always, I fucking mean always. Like seriously, I had to lock myself in a bathroom for over an hour yesterday or this would have happened sooner."

With another chuckle, Aro ended the call, "just bare with it for the time being, Stella. This, like all things, will pass."

*X*

"Not getting any better, Iz?"

Looking over at her best friend of eleven years, Isabella wrinkled her nose and shook her head, "no. If anything, it has only gotten worse since I decked that little fucker last month."

Rosalie gave her best friend a sympathetic look as she walked next to her to their next class. She had bore witness to many different near misses in Isabella losing her temper and cold clocking another reporter in the last few weeks since she got home and there wasn't a single time that anyone would have blamed her for it. They were literally all up in her face, no matter where she went, what she did. If this was going to pass, it needed to be soon or, diplomatic immunity or not, Izzy was going to go to jail for murder.

Rubbing her back in an attempt to calm her down a little, Rose bumped her shoulder against Isabella's, a smile on her face as she looked down, "I know. How about after class, we have Emmett drive your car and we take mine and go get some sushi. That way the stupid bastards follow the wrong car and you finally get a break... while Emmett breaks them."

Hope filled Isabella to the brim as she looked up at her best friend, "if you think that will actually work, I am all for it. The only problem is, how the fuck are they not going to see a monster get into my car? Emmett is six and half feet tall, I am not. Even they will notice the difference."

Rose hummed a little at the presented problem. Yes, there was the issue of the height difference, not to mention one was guy while the other was not. Emmett was not only over a foot taller than Isabella and a different sex, but he had short brown hair so even from a distance, there wouldn't be a question as to the fact that the princess was not getting in her car. Tapping her lips with the tip of her finger a few times, she grinned a little, "I got it. You know that car wash four blocks from campus? Emmett and I will meet you there. While you go through, get out, let Emmett get in and when the car leaves the tunnel, the reporters won't be close enough to notice the change until they see Emmett get out at your house. By then, there will be no sniffing you out."

Grinning back at her, Isabella chuckled, "your brain will never cease to amaze me, Rose. That might actually work."

It did too.

Halfway through the carwash, Isabella got out of her car and, after a grateful thank you to Emmett as he got in her car, she slipped back to the entrance, poking her head out and looking both ways on the property for any of the normal indicators of paparazzi before darting over to Rose's car that was parked next to the office. She stayed crouched on the floorboard between the seat and dash until Rose pulled out of the lot and got about a block away before moving to the passenger seat and putting on her seatbelt.

Looking over at Rose, Isabella sighed, "the shit you put up with when it comes to me has got to get annoying."

Rose just waved a hand in the air as she drove in the direction of their favorite sushi house, "nah. It's not like it's your fault you have to deal with all the fucking vultures. You can't help the family you were born into, Izzy. Besides, you need to have at least one person around that has your back without wanting anything in return. I have been putting up with all the stupid bullshit that comes with being your friend for over a decade, Iz. I'm not gonna abandon you just because there is a little more work required now. To them, you're Isabella Volturi but to me, you're always gonna be Isabella Swan, the geeky little bookworm I met in sixth grade when I was new in town. You were there for me when I didn't have anyone. Now it's my turn to return the favor."

A small smile formed on Isabella's face as she looked over at Rose, "ya know, if you were about five inches shorter and consented to going burnette, you could totally play my double and face the cameras since I know you love that shit."

Rose giggled a little as she pulled into the parking lot, looking over at Isabella, "not on your fucking life, Princess."

Isabella stuck her tongue out as she got out of the car.

After a quick scan of the parking lot, the girls headed inside and up to the sushi bar where they always sat when they came there. After placing their order, Rose turned to her friend, "so, since there are no unwanted ears around, tell me about this Demetri guy you mentioned when you first came home."

Propping her chin in her palm and twirling her straw in her glass, Isabella sighed a little, "he's just a guy I met at the wake that knows what it's like to lose both your parents at the same time. I never got the full story about it but it was about five years ago, I guess. He runs his father's export business, he'll be 22 next month and is like, ridiculously proper. He is a really nice guy that was willing to be a shoulder to cry on for the few days I was there. We talk on the phone a few times a week when I am having a hard time sleeping or wake up in the middle of the night or when the fucking reporters get on my damn nerves."

Taking a drink of her tea, Rose smirked after swallowing, "you like him, don't you?"

Shrugging a shoulder, "I guess so. I mean, he's different than any other man I have ever met. He was not only raised with manners but actually applies them. It's a... nice change of pace compared to the assholes around here."

Giving the sushi chef a smile as she took her plate from him, Rose picked up her chopsticks and looked over as she grabbed a piece of her roll, "have you Googled him yet?"

Isabella shook her head as she too took her plate from the chef, "nope, and I don't plan on it. There is too much bias bullshit on the net these days that even if I did, I wouldn't know what was real and what was not and, wouldn't that be an awkward fucking conversation. 'Oh, hey, Demetri. So, I googled you to find out all your deep dark secrets and this one site said this. Is that true or are the reporters there as big of a pain in the ass as they are here and make shit up to make you look bad?" Picking up a piece of sushi, Isabella grunted, "no, not gonna happen. If there is something he wants me to know, he'll tell me. If not, then it really isn't any of my business."

Rose giggled a little, "yeah, you like him."

Grinning a little, Isabella conceded, "I don't hate him."

After that, the conversation turned to other things they would normally have talked about as they finished their sushi. It was actually a normal, wonderful time for the Italian Princess. Until they left anyways. Like there was a homing beacon on her ass, the cameras were back and flashing as she and Rose walked outside. Growling a little as she looked up at Rose with a glare on her face, "I swear to God, I'm moving to Italy where this shit is actually to be expected."

What Isabella didn't know was just how correct that statement was at the time she said it, or just how soon it was going to be happening. Two hours later, she was rushing to the airport to catch a charter back to Italy after a call came in from her Uncle Marcus about the abrupt and rapid decline in Aro's health.