Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA

Special thanks to Cara, and to Fran for checking my Italiano.

Speaking of Cara, she said it best "It's hard for Edward to be nice when he doesn't really have a heart. (And in my words, "Edward doesn't HAVE TO BE nice, either") He has no reason to play good guy, 'cause he doesn't care enough. You'll just have to see what happens with Bella entering his life Characters, as well as real people, can change; they evolve."

Also, we have to remember that back in those days, men were superior. Women were toys, wives, and mothers, and not much else. Trust me. Bella gives as good as she gets. She's not stupid, but it takes a bit for these two to open their eyes. Yes, this is a gangsterward story, but it's mostly romance/angst with just a touch of Edward's "work" added in. We'll hear from Bella next chapter. CH8 is her POV.

Enjoy!

Bold Gestures

Chapter Seven

While I waited for Emmett to finish cleaning the office, I walked along the avenue again.

This time, I passed the jewelry store, and I entered before the shopkeeper could lock his door. It was late in the day, but I had to stop in.

There was this gold bracelet with a shell charm in the window. I wish I'd bought it before the flowers were delivered. But knowing I had some time to kill, and since I couldn't stop thinking about her, I walked to Bella's house. I was worried about her, and I hoped her parents didn't punish her—severely.

The thought of her in trouble bothered me, which was why I wanted to speak with Carlo this morning. He'd be angry, but I'd be truthful. If Bella's pops thinks she was out with whoever, he'd think badly of Bella, and I didn't want that.

I was willing to bear the brunt of the blame.

Again, I didn't see Carlo's Buick anywhere.

I knocked lightly, and I wasn't sure if I really wanted anyone to answer. It'd be easier if I held on to the bracelet until I saw her in passing, or at my house with Franny. My wariness got the best of me, though.

Bella's little brother answered the door. He looked about Marie's age, maybe younger. Bella told me his name was Carlo Jr., but they call him CJ. "Hey…is your dad home?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"Your mom?" I peered around and behind him, and I didn't see anyone.

"She's in the backyard." He nodded. "I'll get her." The brown-haired boy walked from the door; he didn't run, which would give me more time.

I entered without sound, wondering if I could make it upstairs without anyone seeing me.

Luck was on my side, but I had no idea which room belonged to Bella.

When I heard rock 'n' roll music, I tilted my head toward a door, listening, and I was sure it was Bella's room. "Baby doll…" I knocked.

"Wh-what?" It sounded like she ran for the door. "What are you—" Bella pulled me into her bedroom, and I cut her off with my lips.

She tore her face away, eyes frantic. "What are you doin' here?"

"I—" I saw that she shared a room with her little sister. Sometime last night, Bella told me she was fourteen—her name's Annabelle or something. "Hello."

She stood stock-still, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Anna…say nothing." Bella tilted her head toward the hall, and the younger girl left us. Shades of pink and purple filled the room, and it smelled like her. There were two small beds, and Elvis posters on the wall. "You can't be here," she whispered, her words hushed. "If someone catches you—"

"Did'ju get the flowers?" I dried her tears with my thumbs, not caring if I'd get caught.

She nodded, staring to the floor. "My mother made me throw out the card…and bring them to your house. I left them on the stoop—I-I knocked on the door and ran." She spluttered, nervous.

"What?" I asked, shaking my head of the confusion. "They were for you—"

"Now, they're for your wife," she spoke over me. "My mother made me bring them to Mrs. Medici. I don't know how my mom knew."

I reached into my pocket for the bracelet. There was no box, and I opened the clasp to fasten it on to her wrist. "This is for you." I kissed her knuckles, her palm, my lips trailing upward. "I'd rather you wore it," I kissed her wrist again, "but hide it if you have to. It's for you, and I want you to have it." I poked her nose.

"Mr. Med—"

"Call me Edward." I smiled, wondering why she was being so formal.

Last night, she kept calling me both: Edward or Mr. Medici.

Necking under the boardwalk, she moaned and called out for God and Christ, like a good, little Catholic girl, her hips squirming onto my own.

Just thinking about last night excited me again—made me feel alive. "Say it." I placed her hand on my cheek to kiss her wrist and forearm once more.

The side of her mouth pulled up, her cheeks turning pink. "Edward," she whispered, but her happiness was short-lived. "Listen, you can't be here—you gotta go." She held on to my forearms, walking toward me, making me step backward.

"I don't gotta do nothin'." I stole a kiss, a light peck.

She giggled. "Seriously. You hafta go."

"Let's go out tonight." I ached to kiss her, give her a real kiss; meanwhile, I'd never been a huge fan of kissing. "We'll do up the town, cut a rug somewheres."

"Dancing?" she gasped. "Golly, Edward, I don't know if—"

Smiling widely, I bent low, wanting to steal another kiss, a real kiss.

My lips barely brushed hers when I heard, "Edward…" Renee was behind me, which made my face fall.

The fear in Bella's eyes turned into tears. She was scared, stiff, and yet, she continued to hold my arms. "Mom, um…"

Plastering a grin on my face, I turned to Renee and stepped closer, entering the hall.

"Isabella, get!" She snapped her fingers, and Bella slammed the door shut.

"Was that necessary?" I asked.

Renee had fire in her eyes. "Stay away from my child, Edward."

I furrowed my brow, thinking better than to argue with her. "Our daughters…they exchange letters. I was droppin' somethin' off from Franny." I smiled again. "Carlo here?"

"You know he's not." She folded her arms across her chest. "Were the flowers from Franny, too?"

I didn't answer that.

"You know what really tipped the scale?" She shook her finger at me. "When youse both come strollin' home at ten in the morning—both covered in sand. Roe called me, told me all about your ruined suit, and…she asked…if Bella was covered in sand, too." Renee began to cry. "Of course...she was, but I said no…that there was no way Bella was with you. I'm askin' you, please…Stay away from my child." She placed her hand on her chest.

"She's not a child," I disagreed.

Renee squeezed my hand. "I'm beggin' you. Stay away. You know how ugly this can get…Roe and me…we don't wanna be widows," she sobbed.

I sighed, handing her my handkerchief.

Renee didn't want it. "Please, leave my home."

"Nothin' happened last night," I whispered. "I enjoy Bella's company. We went to Coney Island, drank too many beers, and we took a walk…next thing we know, we wake up in the sand, fully clothed…I did not harm her, and I didn't make her come with me. We spent the evening together, but I didn't touch her—"

"She has a hickey on her neck!" she scolded, and I hadn't seen that.

"Maybe I kissed her…" I shrugged.

"Oh, I'm sure you did...I wasn't born yesterday, and today with the flowers?" She shook her head. "Edward, I'm asking nicely. I'm begging you. Leave Bella alone. She's young. She doesn't know what she wants, and you diggin' your hooks in...You're old enough to know better. I remember; you'll be thirty-five in a couple weeks. Despite the fact that you're married, you're nearly twice her age!"

Knowing a thing or two about my oldest friends, I said, "Carlo's had the same chick—goomarra—for years."

"You think I want that for Bella?" she asked. "Carlo and I did everything we could to save her reputation. Isabella made a mistake, but you think I want my daughter labeled a whore—your whore—for the rest of her life? That's exactly what she'd be. You'll use her, abuse her, and ruin her. Worse than that, what happens when you're finished with her?" Renee ranted.

"She's no whore." It angered me that her mother would call her that. "I wouldn't—"

She chuckled without humor. "You're a liar and a brute. You forget that I know you! We grew up together. I've known you my whole life, Edoardo Antonio Medici!" Renee poked my chest.

"Watch ya fuckin' hands," I warned.

She stepped back. "Stay away from her."

"I'd treat her well—"

Renee scoffed. "I know how you treat Roe."

"I'd treat Bella better." I was honest.

"Edward…" She stepped back, pointing to the stairs. "This isn't a negotiation."

I disagreed because everything has a price.

"Whichever business dealings you have with my husband…I don't plan on him ever knowing about last night or today." She wiped her hands clean. "He had suspicions, but I put them to rest. This is done, over—stay away from Bella."

I inhaled deeply through my nose, going for the stairs. "Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

"What's that mean?"

I turned back to her. "Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

She stared at me, her face drained of color.

"What?" I asked.

Renee turned her back on me.

I gave her what she wanted by leaving her house.

From across the street, I gazed up to the second-story window, and Bella stared right back at me.

She didn't say anything—nothing—and neither did I.

I stood there for a few minutes before I winked and tipped my hat.

It made Bella smile, but then Renee yanked her away from the window.

Two days later, I went to Manhattan with Emmett. During the ride, I kept thinking about Bella. I hadn't seen her, nor had I heard anything about her. Renee must have kept her word since I hadn't heard from Carlo, either. Roe believed her friend, and the two dozen roses Bella left on the stoop...Roe went nuts. She loved them, sang my praises, and she's cooked my favorite foods the past couple of days.

Life was mundane, boring, and I wasn't willing to let Bella go so easy.

I had to see her soon, talk to her, and ask her to decide whether or not she wants to see me again.

If she tells me to scram, I'll leave her alone.

If she wants to go with me, spend time with me, I'd make it worth her time.

But she'll decide that.

Bella will tell me, not her mother.

Emmett drove and I rode shotgun, angling the large firearm out the window, as we got closer to Little Italy. "It's quiet…" That's never a good thing. Especially on a Monday, but it could work to our advantage. "Joey said Marco's at the restaurant?"

Emmett nodded. "He ain't got no reason to lie. You know how much Marco taxes him? He knows you gots the better deal." He threw his cigarette butt out the window.

"I'mma fire a warnin' shot," I said as Emmett turned on to Mulberry. We used to do that years ago as a common courtesy. It let the residents of the neighborhood know to close their windows and to take cover.

"No…" He shook his head, making the tires screech, pulling into an alley.

"This wasn't part of the plan…" I placed the double-barrel close to his neck. "You set me up?"

"I gots an idea!" he shouted.

"Speak." I nodded, refusing to lower my weapon but willing to hear him out.

Emmett sat up, navigating the car and yet slowing it down. "We silence our heat…we sneak in through the back. This ain't the forties no more, Edward." He chanced a glance at me. "This ain't no Naples neither…gabeesh?"

"Capisco," I lowered the shotgun. "Coppers—"

"There ain't no fuzz down hea'. Coppers know to stay away." He chuckled, killing the engine. "It just ain't like that no more…I dunno."

I hummed.

"We go wit'cha plan when we gotta take out like fifteen people." He squeezed my shoulder. "A fuck like Marco…? A quick one to the head, and we're home in time for dinner." He attached a silencer to his Luger. "And Joey don't gotta get his window broken."

I couldn't deny that it wasn't logical, and I mimicked his actions.

"Stand behind me. Don't say a word . . . Hey, let's pretend this bast'ds a Nazi, see?"

"Pretend he's Bugs Bunny for all I care—"

Emmett grimaced at me. "What's your beef wit' Bugs?"

"Can we do this already?" I asked.

"Yeah." Emmett left the car.

Our guy Joey had the back door propped open by a crate. I found that to be…almost too convenient.

Back in the day, hits weren't this easy. There were established wiseguys in New York, and then those who were fresh off the boat, wanting to make names for themselves.

No one gives us anything. We have to take it.

That's the way it's always been.

So, every man of honor had their guards up.

There was even more confusion when the war was over. Most young bucks were quick to enlist, the streets were empty. When the war was over, it was a total mess. No one knew who was who. I jumped right in back then, was fast to get my feet wet. It wasn't long before everyone knew who Edward Medici was.

A wild cat, no one wanted to mess with me.

Then again, there's this false sense of peace—wholesomeness to current times.

There was no way Marco was a sitting duck, eating his macaroni, unawares.

Or, was he?

I tapped Emmett's shoulder, letting him know to fall back.

He shook his head, pointing in front of himself.

I leaned into him. "You get me killed, I'mma come back and fuck your mother." I grasped his shoulder, using him as a shield.

"What the fuck—"

I pushed Emmett into the restaurant.

He wiggled out of my hold and turned to face me with his finger to his lips.

I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, but he was getting me angry.

Without words, I placed my gun to his chest.

He pointed to his left shoulder.

When I peeked behind him, I saw a mirror.

The reflected image was three men sitting at a table, and I couldn't believe my eyes. Marco Medici, Carlo Picara, and Paul Luciano were smiling, chatting lightly, and eating dinner; the rest of the room was empty.

If they knew we were coming, they put on a great act.

I tilted my head, indicating we advance.

There were two archways, and half a wall separating the dining room from the back in between them. All while trying to keep our footfalls light, we crouched low and tried to get to the other side of the restaurant.

There was some music playing—opera, which provided a nice backdrop.

When their chuckles drowned the tune playing, I revealed myself, standing erect.

Carlo and Paulie—their eyes went wide, but Marco hadn't seen me.

I placed the Luger to his neck. "Uncle!" I greeted…more like spat the word.

Marco was stiff in his seat.

"Get on your feet…" I pulled him up, wrapping my arm around his neck, his back to my chest. "Search them," I told Emmett.

"You got some set'a balls comin' hea," Carlo seethed, keeping his hands up so Emmett could frisk him. At these sit-downs, each guy is usually checked for weapons beforehand, but sometimes shit is missed for a reason.

"What's this?" Emmett produced a pistol from Carlo's ankle.

Carlo—his eyes bored into mine, and that made me smile. He hasn't changed, still up to his old tricks, but I'm a better magician.

I'm motherfucking Houdini in comparison, which he knows.

"Long time, no see. Come stai, Zio?" I hugged Marco tighter. "You good?"

"Edoardo…" He tried pulling my forearm from his windpipe. "Tu sei un disonore per la famiglia." Apparently, I'm a disgrace to the family. "Tuo padre mi disse che eri malvagio!" And my father told him that I was evil.

"Come fa a sapere?" I wondered how my father figured that one out. "He don't say nothin'—he ain't never said nothin'. He don't know me." I grinned, landing a smooch on his cheek before I whispered, "Dì al diavolo che ci vedremo presto…Zio."

Marco gasped; he started to panic, hearing my last words.

I pulled the trigger.

Blood splattered the table, Carlo, and Paulie.

I laughed, slapping my knee. "Fuck…I'm sorry." I handed Paulie a cloth napkin.

Paulie Luciano wiped at his face. "State your business—il significato di tutti questo!"

"The meaning of all this?" I nodded, twirling a finger. "Okay…" I thought about that. "You got somethin' going at the airport—it's mine now." I shrugged. "I get a piece of everything—"

He narrowed his eyes at me, obviously dismayed, and I didn't feel like negotiating at this time.

While Paulie ranted and raved, I aimed for his forehead and pulled the trigger once more.

Carlo fell from his seat.

"Get up," I said.

"Ed…"

I rolled my eyes. "Stop being such a pansy. Get on your feet."

Carlo flexed his jaw, doing as I said as he gazed at his dead counterparts.

"Who's next in line? In Queens?" I asked.

Carlo blew out breath. "Uh…Paulie's brother—Dino."

"Ahhh." I nodded. "You got a deal with him…You side with Dino and Marco…You have Paulie and me taken out." It was a decent plan. "You get the airport, and…haven't you fucked me enough?" I stepped closer to him. "Ten years because of your rat-ass wasn't enough?!" I placed my Luger into his mouth.

His mumbled pleas calmed me. They made me smile. "I ain't gonna kill you…" I let him in on the punch early. "You and your crew—they work for me now. You got somethin' goin' with the other Luciano? You introduce him to me." I pointed to myself. "You get your life, and you get to earn, but you leave the airport alone. You leave Gravesend, and anything else that belongs to me—alone! You understand that, Carlo?"

He nodded as a tear rolled down his cheek, but I knew he wasn't scared to die.

We did enough stupid shit years back; I know how big his balls are.

"You have an issue with me?" I asked. "I heard you was lookin' for me." I glanced to Emmett, knowing Carlo was a jittery mess because he was angry, not because he was frightened. "Bella…" I smiled wide; I couldn't help it. "She spent the night with me…madonn'." I kissed the tips of my fingers. "Just to ease your mind…I didn't fuck her, but I could have…quite a few times by now."

Carlo twitched.

"Yowza!" Emmett exclaimed. "Isabella Picara…she's a real beauty." He squeezed my shoulder. "Good for you."

"Thank you," I told Emmett, my words sincere.

Carlo let out a low groan, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"You wanna do somethin'?" I quirked a brow. "As far as I'm concerned, you popped Marco—you killed my uncle and Paulie Luciano."

His eyes widened.

"Such a shame," Emmett commented. "People find out, you'd have every man of honor after you. Plus…well, being a rat is never applauded." He frowned. "You wouldn't be able to protect your family neither."

Carlo massaged his forehead. "You speak of honor and yet—"

"And yet nothing…I got more honor in my cock than you and your entire crew put together. I'm old school, and I wanna take it back to the old school." I was so happy; I couldn't contain my smile. "You move against me, you open your mouth again…I'll let everybody know." I widened my arms. "And I don't talk to coppers. Every soldato in every Borgata, and the babbos'll know, too. Everybody! You'd be chased—banished and killed. They won't be so courteous to pop you one, be done wit' it quick."

"Just shoot me," he said. "Just fuckin' do it."

I placed my gun to his forehead, and he closed his eyes tightly. "No…" I lowered my arm. "You're worth more alive…and your wife's a Salsano." I doubt they'd care about Carlo's raggedy-ass anyhow, and his father-in-law always loved me more, wanted me to marry Nay. "From now on…I want thirty percent of every buck you make. Like I said, you can earn. Something happens and you can't, you talk to me. You run the neighborhoods you got now, but I get a taste. Understand?"

Carlo calmed a bit.

"You kick up to me, and you tell Luciano…I want his tribute as well. You step on my toes…? I'll put a bullet in your fuckin' skull." I placed my gun back to his head. "You understand? You owe me." I placed my heat back into my holster.

Carlo was agreeable to my terms, but then he put his hands up, his eyes pleading. "I'll do whatever you want. Just stay away from my daughter." He met my gaze.

I thought about it.

Letting Bella go might increase the peace, make the transitions simpler.

Heck, letting Bella go might make life simpler all around, but… "No."

He came toward me, but Emmett got between us.

"Put him in the fuckin' trunk!" I shouted. "Our friend needs a time-out—time to think about some shit."

Using his piece, Emmett bopped him on the head, which made Carlo easier for transport.

Carlo was only knocked out for a minute at best. He fought, shouting out for help, and that wasn't very manly. It ticked me off, and this time I clocked him one, but I didn't use too much force. When he reached for his head, I slammed the trunk closed, and then I hopped to sit on it.

I lit a cigarette. "That went well," I said, looking down to the trunk as I was jostled a bit. Carlo was kicking and screaming. "Pipe down, will ya?" I banged my fist.

"What was that you said to Marco—that last thing?"

"Oh…" I smiled. "I told him to tell the devil I'll see him soon." I thought about that, too. "But not too soon."

Emmett smirked at me. "I thought you was only blowin' smoke up my ass that night."

I blew my smoke into the air. "No…I had ten years to think up plots and subplots." Staring to the sky, I saw that it was blue. "Gotta plan for everybody." I pointed to my temple.

Emmett was cautious, glancing at me.

"You didn't rank in the grand scheme." I chuckled. "You're useful. The day that stops bein' true…hey." I didn't feel the need to finish that sentence. "But you're a good guy. You go 'head—take Bensonhurst. We'll unite the neighborhoods. The more bodies we got, the stronger we'll be. We get everyone from 'Hurst, Sheepshead, and Gravesend together…fuckin' Bushwick, too." I whistled. "We go into Queens and we wipe 'em out. Unless…"

"Luciano gives in to your vigorous demands," Emmett said.

"Precisely." I smiled, hopping off Emmett's car. "Joey knows—make it look like they shot each other?" The last thing I wanted to do was fuck with that whole mess. If that headline reached the papers, it'd alleviate most suspicions; however, many will probably question, and I was never here.

"He's owned this spot for twenty-years. He knows. Don't be surprised your uncle disappears. Joe's bro owns the funeral parlor down the street..."

I shrugged. "Less I know, the better." I knocked down onto the trunk. "You heard that?"

Carlo's muffled scream was a good affirmation.

It was Emmett's car.

He drove again, and I rode shotgun.

I couldn't get over how clear the skies were. How warm it was outside. Summer was definitely on its way, if not already here since it's the beginning of June. Carlisle would be released soon enough. The pawns would be in place by the time his feet touch Brooklyn soil.

"What we doin' wit' him?" Emmett turned on to Stillwell Ave.

I shrugged. "We'll take him home."

"All due respect…All due respect, Edward, you're fuckin' nuts."

I hummed. "This head shrinker docta—he didn't know what to make of me in the can. That was…funny."

"Head shrinker?" he asked.

"They tell you if you're nuts or not." I stared at his profile. "All due respect…sometimes, you're a stupid motherfucker."

He nodded, agreeing with me.

I chuckled, lighting a cigarette. "Watch my back." I took off my jacket and my holster. "I'm unarmed…" The less Renee feared me, the better.

"I got you." He furrowed his brow.

When we pulled up to Carlo's house, I left the car to knock on the door.

Renee answered, like I knew she would.

"Bella!" I shouted for her.

"Edward, please. If Carlo comes home…" Renee palmed her cheeks. "Just leave—go now!"

I grasped her chin, my voice barely rising—my words calm. "Relax, Nay…I just wanna talk to her. I'm not gonna do nothin' to nobody, least of all your precious daughter. Isabella isn't a child. She's a woman, although a young woman, and she can speak to me—speak for herself. She wants me to go—" I wiped my hands clean "—I'll go. She wants me to leave her alone, I'll leave her alone—forget she ever existed. But she'll tell me that, not you."

She nodded, hesitant. "Edward—"

I took two steps up the stairs. "Bella!" My head whipped to Renee. "I'll go get her if I have to . . . Bella!"

A second later my girl appeared at the top landing. She had her son on her hip, and she looked as though she'd been crying…again.

"Come here, baby." I called her down with my finger. "I wanna talk to you."

She took the steps slow, her eyes traveling between her mother and me.

"It's fine," I said.

Bella gave her mother the baby.

"Go inside," I told Renee, ushering Bella out.

She looked to Emmett's car. "If you—"

"We're not goin' nowheres," I whispered. "I just wanna talk to her outside—away from your ears." And away from her influence, I thought.

"Mom…it's fine." Bella and Renee had some kind of stare-off. "I promise."

I left their house, walking down on to the sidewalk.

Once Bella met me, I pulled her into my arms, and I hugged her tightly—my hands roaming up and down her back. There was no reason to hide anything, and I wasn't ashamed. The rumors were already starting, and I didn't give two shits. "No more crying." I grasped her hair to take a hearty whiff.

She stiffened within my embrace.

"What's the matter?" I searched her eyes, lifting her chin.

She gulped and silent tears streamed down her cheeks, and she wouldn't meet my eyes. "I can't accept this." Bella tried to hand me the bracelet.

I refused to take it, closing her fingers around it. "Says who?"

"Me," she whimpered. "I'm stupid…you're married, and…I wanna be married someday. I-I'm eighteen. I don't even know what I'm wearin' to the prom," she cried.

"We'll go to Gimbles', Macy's—during the week." I dried her eyes. "I'll take you shoppin' wherever."

"Everything's so simple to you…" She stared at her feet. "If my dad finds out, which…" Bella widened her arms. "Everyone's lookin' out their windows."

I didn't turn, but that was something I'd banked on.

"He'll try to kill you," she whispered. "Then…you'll try to kill him, and how many others have to die?"

I smirked, looking up to Bella's house. "Sounds like somethin' your mother would say."

Bella wouldn't or couldn't look at me.

I kissed her forehead and then used my nose to lift hers. "I'm not gonna kill your father. If I did, that'd be my business…nothin' to do wit'chu. I have my own reasons."

Her lips were inviting me, but I had to look away.

"Your father knows…he already knows." I shrugged. "And I wanna know…" My lips lightly brushed her cheek. "What do you want?"

Her chin wrinkled and her mouth pulled into a deep pout. "You hafta let me go—"

"No, I don't…I don't have to do anything. If you wanna see me, spend time with me, it's fine. Just tell me you want that," I crooned, placing my hands on her hips. "Hmm?"

She palmed her face to cry into her hands. "I don't know." Her forehead rested to my chest as her shoulders shook.

"Hey now…" I wrapped my arms around her again. "You do know, and I urge you to believe—trust me, when I say, it's fine. Nothin's gonna happen to your pops." I used my handkerchief to wipe her cheeks.

Bella sniffled, giving me a slight nod, and her eyes met mine.

"Blow your nose." I placed the cloth into her hand.

She used it to clean her face, but her eyes were so sad…and I hated that she felt badly about us, because she feared for her father.

I dipped low, palming her face, just wanting a little kiss.

"Edward..." She turned away.

"Just be straight with me," I said, making her look at me.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Leave her alone!" Renee came out with a broom.

I chuckled, backing away from Bella, and my steps carried me toward Emmett's car.

"I told you to act like a lady…" I pointed to Bella. "Young women can act silly, but men…" I put my hand up for Emmett's keys.

He tossed them into my palm.

My eyes never left Bella. "Men make bold gestures." I opened the trunk.

Carlo tried to disappear into the upholstery.

"Get the fuck out!" I threw him onto the pavement.

He landed on his hands and knees.

Bella's eyes widened and she covered her mouth as her father scrambled to get to the sidewalk.

"I could've," I told her. "I would've…but I didn't." I kicked Carlo in his ass, making him fall again, and then I walked around him.

"And every time he looks at your face…" I palmed her cheek. "—this beautiful…bella faccia." My lips were forceful, and yet chaste, when I kissed her.

Bella whimpered, leaning into me and kissing me back, which said a lot.

She does want me.

When I pulled away, her eyes were still closed. "He'll know—he'll know why he's alive. It's because of you, baby doll." My lips lingered on her wet cheek.

I licked the salty taste from my mouth.

"Mannaggia!" Renee waved her fist at me, and then she tried to spit on my shoes. "Porco dio!" She helped her husband up, staring at me with such hate in her eyes.

"That's the thanks I get?" I asked, tilting my head to grasp the chain around my neck. "You coulda been a widow." I kissed my cornicello, my Italian horn—to ward off malocchio.

Before I entered the car, I winked at Bella, who'd taken a seat on the stoop.

Emmett made the tires screech, peeling away. "What the…what was that?"

"Now, they know," I said.

"Know, what?" he asked.

"They can't keep her from me." I smiled.

Thank you for reading.

Still with me? We're getting to the good stuff.

Bella POV is next.