Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Edited by Banshee69 and StillDreaming85.

Edward Cullen.

I had been watching her 24/7 since that night. I watched her like a hawk. I watched her as if my life depended on it. I hadn't missed a thing. I hadn't skipped a beat, I even watched her sleep.

I had been watching and waiting for any sign that she was about to come apart; that the reality of what happened would finally sink in. However, nothing happened. Not a single involuntary twitch of her muscles nor a fallen tear, not even a haunting nightmare.

I didn't know what to make of it, to make of her. On the outside she appeared as calm and collected as she insisted she was. However, I knew she had to be fighting a battle with herself on the inside; how could she not? She killed someone, no matter who that person happened to be with her bare hands. An act like that had to have had some kind of effect on her, didn't it?

"You know, you need to have a little more faith in her," my brother said.

"I have faith."

"Yeah?" He questioned with a raised brow. "Then stop watching her constantly as if she's about to burst into flames."

"I'm not…"

"Even now, you're thinking about going after her." It wasn't a question, it was a fact. He laughed. "Leave her alone, Edward, let her have some time to herself. She's perfectly fine."

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew Anthony was right. However, that didn't mean I would admit it out loud. Maybe, just maybe, Isabella was - in fact just fine - and the real problem was actually me, trying to make a bigger issue out of nothing. Maybe it's the lack of sleep finally catching up to me, or the combination of pills I've taken to keep me awake. Whatever it was, there was no shaking this feeling in the pit of my stomach. Things weren't over by a long shot. We hadn't won the war. The enemy has yet to be eliminated.

"I've got something for you," Anthony said, producing an envelope from the back of his jeans.

"What's this?"

"List of everyone that worked on Isabella's case."

I wasted no time tearing open the envelope, pulling out the file and scanning through the list of names. Sure enough, there it was. Myers, Detective Myers. The same fucking detective who'd been assigned to my father's shooting; the very same detective who worked on Isabella's case. Myers, who had questioned Marie about the incident. Myers, who had to know without a doubt that Marie was, in fact, Isabella Swan.

"Fuck!" I cursed loudly. "Fuck!"

I had been right all along. I knew he suspected something. The way he looked at her, I knew he suspected she wasn't who she was claiming to be.

"He's still not backing down on questioning her further about what she saw that night," Anthony said.

"I know and I don't know how much longer I can put it off," I said.

I went as far as to offer the detective an invite into my home where he could speak with her, but the fucker refused. Of course he refused, he wants to get her isolated in a room by herself at the police station. He wants to put her in a position where no one else would be able to listen in and hear, well, actually to witness his interrogation of her. That was only further proof that he knew the truth.

"Maybe it's time for our detective friend to have a little... accident," Anthony said and I nodded in agreement. Whatever Myers thought he knew or may think he has uncovered, it would die with him.

After I gave Anthony the green light, however with strict instructions as to how I wanted the detective taken out, we sat back and watched as our father drank and laughed with the family - just like old times.

"That motherfucker healed fast. Look at him," my brother said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"A demon's hard to kill, brother. You should know that."

"Fuck you," he said as he poured us both another drink with his good hand.

"To good fucking health," we raised our glasses and toasted.

I did manage to relax a little tonight. I even took Anthony's advice and left Isabella alone for the night. He had a point, I had to be suffocating her these past couple of days, and the last thing I wanted to do was slow down the progress we have made; we've come so far.

There was no reason, nothing for me or for any of us, to suspect that something was wrong; that something had already happened. That was until Garrett came running back into the bar at full speed.

I shot up out of my chair, as did my brother. I made my way towards Garrett, meeting him halfway across the room.

"What's going on, Garrett?" My father asked, coming up to stand beside us.

"Shit!" Garrett cursed as he scanned the room multiple times.

"What the fuck is going on?" I asked again.

"I thought she must have come back here." Garrett said.

"Isabella?" Anthony asked. "She went to their room well over an hour ago."

I brushed past Garrett and the others around the room, shoving anyone in my way down. I went down the hallways opening every door, looking into every room, not giving a fuck who I happen to walk in on or what I disturbed. She was nowhere to be found.

I stood there in the middle of the hall, watching them all storming in and out of rooms and hallways in search of my wife, only to witness them all come back empty-handed.

"Check the cameras. If she left, she couldn't have gotten that far," my father said.

Making a mad dash for the office. I fired up the laptop and uploaded the security footage going back two hours just before she left my side.

I watched in utter silence as the footage played out before me. I watched as she kissed me goodbye, and as she walked out into the hallway.

"What the fuck is Carmen doing here?" My father asked. "I thought you said she left with your sister?"

"That bitch." Anthony mumbled. "That fucking bitch."

I watched the footage over and over again, thinking to myself, cursing not only myself but all of us for being this fucking stupid. I watched as they hit her. I watched as she helplessly fell. I watched them scoop her up and carry her out of view. I watched it so many times I couldn't take it anymore. I picked up the laptop and threw it across the room.

Hours had gone by; although it felt more like days. Attempting to track down Carmen was close to impossible.

My father was livid. He was furious at himself more than anything, and rightfully so. This was his sister, his flesh and blood. He should have known her better than anyone else.

The fucked up thing is she's been here the whole time and we were all too stupid to see it. She's been right here next to us; that's why she's always been one step ahead. She knew our every fucking move, every plan we had... Fuck! How did we not figure this out earlier?

"I don't understand," Garrett said. "Why is she doing this?"

My father only shrugged.

"You think she planned the shooting the night her husband died?" Garrett added.

"She wants something from us, the question is what," Anthony said.

"Money? It's gotta be money. I mean she stole from your account," Garrett said.

"No!" I said. "It's not money. She's not after that. That was just a fucking distraction to divert our attention so she could set her plan into motion undetected."

"And what plan might that be, brother?" Anthony asked.

"I don't know. But she was working with Liam, which means she knew he was alive. How the fuck did she know that? How did she know where to find him?"

"Maybe he found her?" Anthony said.

Possibly. Liam had had all the time in the world to recover. He had all that time, all those years to think, to plan and to plot his revenge and what better way to do that then with the most unsuspecting member of the family.

"What else did Emmett say?" Anthony asked.

"He said Edward had agreed for her to stay behind down here until I was in the clear at least. He didn't have a reason not to believe her," my father said.

"Why the fuck would he not mention that to me earlier?" I said, jumping out of my seat. "How fucking stupid could he be? It's been weeks, goddamn weeks since then."

I paced the room back and forth not able to stop myself. I have to do something, yet I'm unable to go anywhere. Without any information, I'm powerless. My thoughts wander to Bella. How badly has she been harmed? What did Carmen want with her? Who the hell else was helping her? So many questions and no answers.

For hours, Anthony, along with Garrett have been attempting to find the SUV they had left in. They hacked into the city's CCTV system but their time there was limited. At any moment they could be detected on the system and blocked. They could possibly even attempt to trace back their location.

"What the hell are they doing?" Garrett muttered under his breath.

"What have you got?" My father asked.

"They've driven around in a circle. They came out of the Lincoln Tunnel back into the city," Anthony said, scratching the back of his head, looking every bit as confused as Garrett.

"They took West 39th Street... Pier 81. They're on Pier 81."

"What the fuck?" Anthony said. "Is she taking her out to dinner. There's nothing at Pier 81."

"Not unless they get on a boat," I said.

"Impossible," my father said, staring at the screen. "How did she know?"

"How did she know what?" I asked, impatiently.

"Your grandfather used to run some... things through Pier 81 back in the day. I never had any use for it, too public. But Carmen would have no way of knowing about it."

"Clearly you know nothing about your own sister," I said.

I have to hand it to Carmen, she had her plan well thought out.

It was early Saturday evening, and there was a function currently taking place inside the restaurant. There were easily one hundred and fifty people in attendance.

This complicates things far too much for my liking, but I didn't have an issue taking any one out if needs be. I had no doubt that tonight would end in a bigger bloodbath than any of us anticipated.

I have a crew all around the pier. I even have a boat sailing in and as soon as they dock, we were going to end this fucking madness.

"Boat's here," Garrett said.

"Let's get this over with," my father said. No matter how hard I or my brother tried to convince him he was not strong enough to be here doing this, he wouldn't back down.

We knew for certain that Carmen only has five men guarding the outside, pacing around on the docks. We have the numbers advantage over them; however, that wouldn't make our objective any easier. This is a public place, a very public place. With bodies dropping like flies and gunfire filling the air, it would only be a matter of time before the authorities were notified. We have about ten minutes, at best, to take out those fuckers, get inside and find Carmen, and get Isabella out of there; that was, if we could find them. The thought crossed my mind that this was some elaborate setup by Carmen to divert our attention while she escaped some other way.

"Out of my way," my brother said, as he nudged his way between Garrett and myself. With his weapon drawn, he aimed and fired. The bullet hitting its target right in the back of the head, making him slump to the ground. Thanks to the silencer on Anthony's gun no noise was made, and so far no one noticed the body lying on the ground, that bought us some extra time.

With word the crew on the boat took out two others on their end, we advanced towards our remaining targets. It was light work, easy, almost too easy to eliminate the other two guards, which brought that doubt rushing back to the forefront of my mind. Were we about to walk into a big trap?