Family Affairs Contest
Title: Red Swan
Summary: "My family was lethal, and I loved it, lived for it. From the first time I held a gun, it was like breathing. I was the assassin that everyone wanted yet no one knew it was me."
Pairing: Bella
Rating: R
Word Count: 6850
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.
I stood there staring at the beady-eyed little fucker as he berated the few girls standing here and telling all of us that we didn't make enough money. I resisted the urge to haul out the damn underwear out of my ass and throw on a shirt. These bloody booty shorts and crop top were not my normal attire.
I kept my head down, waiting for the opportunity. I'd been working at this dirty hovel for only a week or so, but it felt like forever, and I couldn't wait for it to be done!
I glanced from side to side to see the terrified girls next to me. The scum in front of me had been known to hit his employees.
"LEAVE US!" he yelled, and we started to file out, but he stopped me. I held back a smirk and kept my head down.
"How long have you been here?" he asked, and I could feel him standing close, and I wanted to punch him.
"A little over a week or so, sir," I answered with a fake, trembling voice and accent. Gag me!
"What's your name?" he asked.
Are you fucking kidding me, he can't even remember his employees names? I tried not to growl when he stepped closer. "Irina," I faked in a Russian accent, gulping.
"Irina, Irina, you are the sexiest girl to ever grace the stage. You could make me more money than any of the other girls," he said, grabbing my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"You need to take off more clothes, and the next time I hear of you refusing a private dance, I will bar you in the basement," he sneered and let go of me.
I glanced around, noticing his guards were looking at their phones, and he was back on. It was time.
"Yeah, see that's an issue for me," I spat and looked at my nails, dropping the fake accent.
He whirled around so fast and stared at me. "You little bitch," he sneered and lunged for me, but I hauled out my Glock that was safely hidden and aimed it at him.
He stopped cold and stared at me. Then he screamed for his men, but I laughed, seeing that they were already taken care of. He whirled around and saw their blank stares and bullet wounds between their eyes, and then he rounded back at me fast, but I was faster and kicked him in the stomach, and then punched him in the face. As soon as he was down, I grabbed him around the neck and put my gun to his skull.
"Demi, Demi, you have been a naughty boy," I teased. I heard the door open and saw my boys standing there. I gave them a nod and they left, knowing they would be outside if things went south.
"Please, whoever you are, just tell me what to do. I have lots of money, lots of friends. I'll give you whatever you want," he pleaded like the pussy he was.
"See, that's the problem, Demi. You say you have all this money, but who owns it?" I whispered harshly in his ear and pushed him to the ground, walking away.
"Please, I have peo ..." he started, but I shot at his leg, smiling as he went down.
"You stupid bitch," he yelled, holding his bleeding kneecap.
"Now, now, Demi, be a good boy or else I'll have to shoot the other leg and tape your mouth shut." I mocked and shivered in delight. I loved my job.
"You've been double dipping, Demi," I said as I walked around him and slapped him with my gun. His eyes went wide. "Who else are you screwing over besides the chief and Marcus? I heard the Chinese aren't too happy with you either," I snarled and inspected my nails again.
"You came to the chief begging for money to fix up this joint and help the families of the girls who work here. You were given six months to pay it back, but I hear you went to Marcus and
gave him the same story and got the same amount. What's that, Demi? A half million dollars? Where is the money? Clearly, you must still have it since this place looks worse than shit, and you've been bragging about your wealth," I spat and backhanded him.
He didn't answer, but his eyes strayed to the door on the opposite wall. "E," I shouted, and he came barreling in, waiting for an order.
I pointed to the door, and E opened it, revealing a broom closet. "Umm, B?" he asked, and I pointed my Glock at the douchebag still bleeding on the floor. "Where the fuck is it?" I growled and pressed my gun into his cheek.
"Please," he whimpered.
"Save it," I yelled and backhanded him again. I dragged him toward the door by his hair, and I smiled at his screaming, no doubt his bloody knees scraping the floor were hurting.
"Where the fuck is it? I won't ask again, Demi. This place is going up with you in it. You can tell me now and I can kill you quickly, or don't tell me, and we tear the place apart, and you can burn in the flames," I sneered. It didn't matter. He was dying anyway. I could have easily had my tech support find it, but I would prefer not to have to resort to that. That and I loved watching them squirm.
He gave a sigh and pointed at the back wall where there was a rug on the wall. E tore it off and revealed the safe behind nestled onto a shelf. I didn't bother asking for a combination as E was already cracking it.
He got it opened, hauled out all the cash, and then I had the rest of the boys come in and sweep all the hard drives, wiping the cameras and surfaces down. Demi was still bleeding, but he wouldn't die due to it.
"Place is clean, ma'am," Pauly said, and I told them all to get out.
I grabbed a chair and then lit my lighter under the sprinkler. This would further clean down the evidence, and with a last look at the scum on the ground, I shot a bullet between his eyes. When he went down, I took the pliers and hauled the bullet out and walked toward the back.
"Haul ass, drop Marcus's share off, and then go home," I yelled as I walked away.
"Cops and the fire department are en route. Closet to your left locks from the outside. Lock yourself in, be loud, and someone will find you. I won't blow the place yet." I heard in my ear and did what they said.
Ten minutes later, I heard yelling, so I put on a wig, my game face, and started screaming and crying. I heard someone jiggle the handle while I banged on the door, screaming in Russian, and then the door burst open, and I sank to the floor, trembling with fear.
"You're all right now, miss," the officer said as he put his gun away and escorted me out under his arm while I thanked him in broken English.
I told the officers that Mr. Petrov was mad at me for not giving a client a very special dance and locked me in the closet. We had to pass by the body so I started crying and screaming at the sight. The officer held me closer, and I buried my face in his chest. He smelled amazing and was pretty cute, but he was a cop, a pig, not gonna happen.
I felt cold on my bare skin and inhaled the fresh air—it was nice to be outside. I looked up and saw A coming toward me, crying in her own broken English. A cover we both developed early on.
She started reaching for me, speaking in Russian, and wrapped a jacket around my body, which was shivering. Wasn't an act. I was freezing; the hot putrid air compared to the coolness of Seattle was drastic.
The officer let me go, and we got in a car I didn't recognize but didn't ask. As soon as we were away from the scene, I tore off the damn wig and jumped in the back seat to change under a blanket.
"Thank fuck. I couldn't stand one more minute in that damn leather," I groaned as I jumped back upfront. A was eyeing my outfit, and I flipped her off and leaned back, watching the scenery go by. We never spoke. A knew I wouldn't need to; she heard everything that was said through the mic and speaker that were in my ear at the time.
We pulled into a garage under a building I didn't recognize, and I started to get out, but A stopped me. She pulled out a remote and pressed a few buttons, and then signaled me to go. I just gave her a look in question, and she said, "I jammed the cameras so it looks like this car never left the garage. If the cops trace it, they'll find it belonging to two sisters from Russia named Irina and Tanya Petrenko. The two sisters are currently packing for a vacation to Brazil, and Irina did work as a stripper at Demi's briefly a month ago. That's why I told you to pick that name. If they trace it back, they'll find her, and they won't go much further, but I doubt they'll look into that," she explained, and I nodded.
We walked through the parking garage, and there was a sleek black SUV waiting for us. The driver got out, nodded to us, and opened the door so we could jump in.
"Home, ma'am?" he asked, and I told him to go to the office.
"B, for God's sake, go home and get some rest," A said, and I just shook my head. She huffed but kept her mouth shut.
I hated my apartment. It was too big, too lonely, and I damn well wasn't going to my parents. I shivered thinking about that. Dad was retired, and he and Mom were enjoying a second honeymoon after renewing their vows and apparently didn't mind getting buck wild in the pool.
Nope, fuck that. I'm not going through that.
My office had a bedroom with everything I needed, so once I got dropped off, I headed to bed.
The sound of clicking woke me from my sleep, and I grabbed the gun under my pillow and pointed it at whoever or whatever was making the damn sound only to see my assistant sitting near the wall on the couch and her laptop in her lap.
"Do you ever sleep?" I groaned as I put the gun away and sat up and stretched.
She just pointed to the nightstand while her eyes were trained on the screen, and I saw the mug steaming away as the enticing smell of coffee came across my nose.
"Thanks, Ang." I groaned while resisting the urge to chug it.
"Whatever. Go get in the shower already," she grunted and closed her laptop.
I downed the coffee, already wanting another cup, and got ready for the day. While I was putting on my skirt and shirt, my assistant was telling me about what was set up for the day.
"Hurry up! The cops will be here around ten. A says that there's buzz at the police station to come and speak to you. No warrant but you need to play nice. Then you have a meeting with J at two P.M, and your father wants to meet you for lunch with a guest. Non business," she listed, looking at her laptop.
"You also have to go get your dress for the gala next month—don't even think about canceling, you're going," she hissed, and I flipped her off.
"You know I hate those fucking things," I grumbled.
"Too damn bad. You have to go now. It's for the children's hospital, and we're the biggest donors. Which reminds me. There's a banquet RSVP for UW, and as their leading donors, they want you to attend a party being held by the president of the university," she stated while I ate some breakfast and made sure that my boys wiped the place clean.
"B, you listening to me?" she growled, and I lifted an eyebrow
"Oh, for fuck's sake, don't pull that shit on me. It didn't work for the chief. It won't work for you. I love and respect you, but don't even start that with me," she growled.
"Why the hell do I put up with you?" I growled, wanting to reach for my gun but thought better of it. "Because I'm the best assistant you will ever have. No one else can put up with your ass, and I'm your sister," she quipped.
"Whatever," I snarled and waved her off.
She gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek and skipped out the door, saying, "Love ya, B."
I snarled at her back when the door to the office closed and leaned back in my chair and smiled at my crazy life. Angela was my oldest sister; she should be in my place, but she didn't want it. She was better at organizing our way of life than I was. Our world was crazy, dark, and illegal. My sisters, brothers, and I were all born into the mafia, and my dad was the chief, the leader, the Don. He was cold, calculating, and could sniff things out that were wrong a mile away.
My family had been in the mafia for generations; we owned all of the northwestern United States as far east as New York. We owned Alaska, parts of Mexico, and even Miami. My dad had family in Italy and Ireland, which still baffled me, and my Mom had ties to the Russians. My family was bred to be killers and also masters at what we do.
My mom was just as deadly as my dad and his capo; she was also the better shot. I was the killer and the business-savvy child, and when Angela didn't want anything to do with the whole Donna thing, I was next in line. Then there was Seth and Leah, both of them were adopted by my parents when my dad's best friend and one of the guards were killed by a rival mob, the Hunter clan—while small, they were deadly, and killed Harry and Sue as a message to my dad.
I was quite young, maybe fourteen, but when I saw James and his partner Laurent lazing around their car outside one of the clubs, I reacted. To this day, no one knows how they were killed—no one saw me there—and my father took care of all the rest.
Seth is one of my guards—he's a skilled assassin and great with interrogation. His sister Leah is my age but really didn't want anything to do with the mafia. She's amazing at running businesses, so she owns and helps run some of our legal operations; although word on the street is she's a hell of a bookie, and one of her clubs runs an illegal gambling ring under the club. I swore I would drop in one day.
My brother Emmett aka E was my capo and one of my best friends. He was lethal, strong as an ox, and built like a linebacker. He knew how to bring down an enemy and was also a lethal assassin, but as my capo, he worked mostly with me in the office.
Then there was A aka Alice. She was my best friend, my sister for all intents and purposes, and was hands down the best tracker, hacker, and computer genius there was. She was a master of disguise, and I thank God every day that we found her. She was also adopted but under different circumstances. My dad had a couple of guys who ran a strip club, not unusual—hell, I owned one or two myself—but Miles was an idiot and pimped a few girls out.
One girl was raped and became pregnant. Miles got scared when he found out and kept the poor girl locked up, thinking that if my dad found out he would be killed. He took care of her, but after the baby was born, Miles became even more paranoid and kept the mother heavily drugged, and the baby was given the bare essentials. Some of the other girls snuck in to feed the baby and change her.
My mother happened to be at the club one night with my dad, who had a meeting. Satisfied that everything would be fine, she started patrolling the club, and when she heard an infant wailing, she beat the door down and found the woman dead on the bed and the baby crying next to her.
My mother was pissed. She picked up the baby and gave her to one of the other girls who came to see what happened, and then my mother waited for my dad.
As soon as his meeting was over, she shut the club down and dragged Miles in front of her, demanding to know what the hell was going on. My father was livid and had him dragged away. Most of the other women knew what had happened and wanted to say something, but Miles had threatened them all, and while there were a few who wanted the baby, they knew it would be too hard. My dad took one look at the little dark-haired, blue-eyed little baby and fell hook, line, and sinker. The baby was never given a name, and the other girls named her Alice, so it stuck. She was brought home that night and shared my bassinet and crib until we were old enough to get our own beds. Even then, Alice and I shared a bed and have been known to still share one or end up in each other's beds when we are together.
Alice was so tiny that she was the best when it came to sneaking in anywhere undetected. The boys called her mouse, and while tiny, she could kick some major ass.
Our family was lethal, and I loved it, lived for it. From the first time I held a gun, it was like breathing. I was the assassin that everyone wanted yet no one knew it was me, save for my family.
"Pigs are in the blanket" I heard Alice chirp in my ear, so I put away everything in the safe in the floor—no need for the pigs to see personal shit—and made it look like I was busy. I saw a Twitter feed already on my computer with news of last night's fire, another article stating what happened to the owner, and A telling me that a picture of the building blowing up made the news feed on Facebook and Instagram. Covers for the cops.
I pulled up some actual legal work on my computer, and there were files on my desk that were actual work, and I waited.
"Ms. Swan, two detectives are here to see you," Angela informed me over the intercom
"Show them in, Ms. Cheney. Thank you," I answered back and kept seated, making sure my skirt and blouse were fine.
The door opened, and Angela led two guys dressed in suits and trench coats into my office. Hmm, interesting. These two were new. "Detectives Michael Newton and Tyler Crowley, both from Forks and with the Seattle FBI branch. They sent the big guns," A informed me, and I smiled at the two men, shaking their hands.
Detective Newton had a boyish face, fairly handsome with short blond hair but seemed cocky. Detective Crowley had a harder look to him—short dark hair, darker complexion, and tried to come off tough. Hmm, good cop and bad cop as it were.
I motioned for them to take a seat. Newton did without question, but Crowley kept standing and looked around. Angela was still there and offered them both something to drink, but they declined.
Both men were quiet as I made myself some tea and took a seat at my desk. "Now, gentleman, how can I help you?" I asked sweetly.
"Detective Michael Newton, Ms. Swan. Pleasure to meet you," he purred, taking my hand, and I smiled, trying not to hurl. "This is my partner Detective Tyler Crowley from the FBI," Newton stated, and I played along like I didn't already know.
"FBI, wow, well, what can I do for you, gentleman?" I asked and crossed my legs. I watched as both men's eyes were zoned in on my legs. I had female wiles, I had assets, and Mama taught us to use 'em. Distraction was key.
"Ms. Swan, a gentleman's club by the name of, umm ... Kitty Curtain was burned down last night," Detective Newton stated, and I held back my sarcasm on the club being a gentleman's club. Cheapass brothel, more like it.
"Oh, yes, I heard about it this morning," I stated, conveying my utter surprise.
"Really, how? It hasn't made the morning paper yet." Crowley growled
I took out my phone and hauled it up on Twitter and Instagram. "I read it this morning while I was getting ready for work," I stated, and both men glanced at each other.
"Did you know the owner—Demetri Petrov?" Newton asked
"Not personally, no. I knew of him. Why? Did something happen to him?" I gasped using the girly voice with a bit of a waiver like Mom taught me.
"Bit thick there, Bells," A shot in my ear, and I tucked my hair behind my ear, flashing my middle finger knowing she would see. She chuckled in my ear, so I knew I was successful.
"Mr. Petrov's body was found among the ashes of his club," Crowley stated, and I gasped, spilling some tea to make it better.
"Oh my word, that's horrible!" I cried and made a note to get Angela to send the family my condolences, for show purposes. I never planned to actually follow through with it.
"Do you know anything about it, Ms. Swan?" Detective Newton asked, and my eyes narrowed, but I resisted the urge to let them see the demon.
"Why on earth would I know anything?" I stated.
"Kitty Curtain was your competition, wasn't it?" Newton went on, and I laughed. I couldn't help it. That was the best thing I had ever heard.
Crowley was walking around my office, and I knew Alice was watching him, so I kept myself in check, but my fingers were itching to draw my gun.
"Gentleman, I don't know how much you know about that club, but I can guarantee you it was no competition. I own several clubs like that myself, and SwanCo has invested, bought, and revamped more than its fair share of strip clubs over the years. Our biggest competitors are our own clubs or clubs in other towns," I stated.
"Where's your father, Ms. Swan?" Crowley growled, and my eyes narrowed as I took another sip of tea, and then crossed my legs again, smirking at the lusty look on their faces.
"Most likely enjoying my mom," I stated and watched them both blush. Interesting.
"Eww, Bells, come on. I don't wanna hear that shit," Alice yelped, but I was able to maintain my composure.
"I'm sorry," Newton choked, and I smirked.
"He and my mother just renewed their vows since he's now retired, so they're enjoying each other's company," I drawled and watched as they both got a little more uncomfortable.
"And where were you last night, Ms. Swan?" Newton asked and took a seat at the corner of my desk, picking up a picture frame and turning it over looking at the display photo still inside. He held it in front of me in question, and I chuckled, explaining that I just moved into the office and hadn't had time to decorate yet. They didn't need to know this had always been my office, and that my father's real office was still his. He would keep it there for safekeeping, and it wasn't on any blueprint—you could only access it by a secret stairway and elevator with a keycard.
"I was here in the office until about five, and then I went home long enough to shower. I had a dinner meeting at eight that ran quite late. I arrived home around one in the morning and crashed," I explained, knowing Alice had it set up that if they ever looked into it, I would be there, but of course, it wasn't me but Alice in disguise.
"Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts, Ms. Swan?" Crowley growled as he stalked toward me, and I played the startled damsel while his partner told him to chill out.
"Umm, the doorman in my building and the dinner meeting was at Salvatore's. Umm, the owner, Barstone, greeted me at the door, and the waiter was, ummm ... oh dear me, I forget," I said nervously.
"How convenient," Tyler growled again. "Cut the shit, Ms. Swan. We all know your family is knee deep in the mafia. You're a bunch of criminals," he shouted, and I heard my door open just as Crowley was about to come closer.
"Problem here, gentleman?" the hulking figure asked from the doorway.
Both officers' jaws dropped, their bodies' tense—the same look everyone gives my brother. Emmett may be a skilled assassin, fighter, and spy, but he was also trained in medicine as well as he's the company vice president and lawyer.
"No problems here," Newton stated and gave a pointed look to his partner, who had backed up and was standing stock-still.
"Wh ... whoooo are youuu? Crowley stuttered
"Emmett Swan, vice president, Ms. Swan's brother, and legal counselor. I've been informed that you gentleman entered the building asking questions without a warrant. My client is entertaining this out of the goodness of her heart or legal counsel, and yet I come in here to find an FBI agent trying to intimidate my client," Emmett said, his voice getting louder.
"Not at all, counselor. In fact, we were just leaving," Newton stated. Both men started toward the door where my brother stood with his huge arms crossed, looking every bit the deadly man I knew him to be.
As soon as they left, I heard A chirping to talk about other stuff—she was sweeping for bugs. So Emmett took a seat, and Angela joined as well, playing the part. We went over the notes from a few contracts, and I asked her to order flowers and send my condolences to the Petrov family.
Alice came in through a secret wall in the back and pointed to the picture frame that Newton had picked up and to the desk where refreshments are kept where Crowley had been stalking earlier.
She used a device of her own creation to remove them, and then she reversed the frequency on them so when the feds turn them on they will hear something else or just static. Once she is sure that they can no longer be used, she will dispose of them.
Emmett, Angela, and I talk about legal business while Alice does her thing, and finally, she gives us the all clear. "There, now all they'll get is the pizza orders down on Eighth Street or some phone sex operators." Alice giggled.
"I slipped some bugs into their jackets myself," Angela admitted, and we looked at her shock.
"Way to go, Angie. How did you pull that off?" Emmett praises, and Angela gives him the stink eye since she hates the nickname.
"When I greeted them when they came in, I slipped it on the button of their trench coats. It's a new one Ben and Alice have been working on, slipped right over the button so it looks just like it, not detectable, not noticeable. I figured it was time to test em out," she explains, and with that, we all run like we're kids on Christmas morning to A's office.
I was impressed with her. Alice and Ben had been working on these new devices for months. I'd been skeptical when Alice brought Ben to us. Ben Cheney was an IT tech from UW Alice had classes with. He had no family, no ties to anyone, and needed a job. Alice said he was a genius with equipment, so we hired him. The boy wasn't here one day when Angela took one look and fell in love. They were happily married six months later, and between Ben and Alice, we have better technology than most governments and armies.
She takes a seat at her computer station—her baby that she created all on her own—and we all sit and wait while she presses some buttons. After a few crackles and pops, the voices of the officers come through.
"Man, did you see that guy? Huge motherfucker," Mike said, and I saw my brother smirk evilly.
"Scared the hell out of me. His arms were huge like I'm sure he could squeeze the life out of you," Tyler replied, and I chuckled, knowing my brother could do just that, having witnessed it on several occasions. He was known as the constrictor on the streets.
"Me too, but I was more interested in Ms. Swan. That woman is sexy as hell, and did you check out those legs?" Mike said, and I shivered in disgust. Tyler didn't say anything in reply, which I was relieved about.
They talked some more, mostly about other stuff when Mike asked, "What the fuck was that up there, huh? I've known you since our time in the academy. You begged for this case knowing it was a career battle, and I followed along, but if you're going to be a loose cannon, then fuck that, I'm out," he spat
"She made me nervous. I either had to get lippy, or I was gonna jump her," Crowley said, and I gagged.
"Seriously, dude, you're gonna fuck this up because of your dick?" Newton yelled
"Nah, man! I wasn't expecting her, that's all. I was ready to face the chief but not her," he said, and Newton told him there was more to this, but Crowley wasn't budging on it.
A pulled up his record: father was a small town cop from Forks, which was about three hours from Seattle, mom was a teacher, and no siblings. But then articles of a crime from more than a decade ago popped up regarding the death of a Victoria Young. She was older than Crowley, but A was able to find that she lived with Crowley's family, was his cousin, and that she somehow got tied to James Hunter.
James was a thug even as a teenager, and according to the files Alice managed to dig up, Victoria was with James the night he got into a fight with the leader of a local gang called the Night Devils. I laughed. That gang was wiped out five years ago after the sudden death of their leader. Bastard tried to make a move on me, and now the fucker was fish food.
The records of statements from witnesses stated that James and the leader, named Damien—how cliché—had gotten into an altercation, guns were fired, and it seemed Victoria died at the scene from a gunshot wound. Police records showed they had questioned our father on the shootout but nothing was found. Even if Dad had been involved, there would have been no bodies or evidence—gangs were sloppy, mafias were not.
Further digging found that Victoria had been living with Detective Crowley and his family as a foster child, and she would babysit Crowley after school.
"Seems the detective has a chip on his shoulder," my brother stated, and I agreed.
I told them to keep monitoring the situation and left the office to go back to my own to do some work before meeting my father for lunch.
We usually did family lunch somewhere or Dad would order in, and we would all have some family time. So if he wanted to meet out, this was the leader of the family business.
At eleven-thirty, I started to go to my room to freshen up when the door opened, and my father marched in. I was about to ask him what the hell, but the look on his face was one of anger, mischief, and apology, so I let it go.
"Hi, Daddy. I thought we were meeting for lunch?" I said sweetly
"We were but," he started when from behind him a man with blond hair waltzed in like he owned the place, and I recognized him immediately.
"Carlisle Cullen, my daughter Isabella. Isabella, you remember Mr. Cullen, right?" he asked, and I nodded.
Cullen ran Chicago, but he was smalltime and tried to talk my father into giving up more territory like New York or Florida, but Dad would have none of it.
Cullen was no Don, just a weasel who ran a good game AKA his team. Word on the street was his son, who was the next in line, was lethal, cunning, and had a business-savvy mind. From what I heard, he would be the next best thing to happen to organized crime in Chicago.
"Of course, Carlisle. How lovely to see you again," I faked as I shook his hand, and Carlisle, the weasel, kissed mine.
"You've grown into quite a beauty, Isabella," he said, leering. Pig! I knew Carlisle was a married man. I'd never met his wife, but for sure, she didn't put up with that shit.
I gave a fake smile and took a seat at my desk so the slimy bastard wouldn't try and sit next to me. Thankfully, my dad stood next to my chair.
I sat straight and said, "Well, what can we do for you today?"
"Charles, this really should be discussed in private," Carlisle stated, and I shot him a glare
"Cullen, you called me demanding to see me. I've killed men for less, but I'm indulging you so start talking." My father sneered, and I smiled as I noticed Carlisle gulp. My dad was a scary motherfucker.
"Well, Charles, as you know, my family business is quite lucrative on the East Coast," he boasted, and I snorted. Lucrative, yeah, right.
He shot me a glare, and I hissed. It was at that point Emmett came in and greeted them.
"Cullen, my son Emmett," Dad said.
"Fine young man, Charles. He'll be an excellent Don when you step down," Carlisle appraised.
Em shot me a glance to say, "Are you going to take that?" My glance answered that I was letting this one go. He nodded at me.
"Something you need, son?" Dad asked
"Nah, just here for the show," Em said, taking a seat on my couch, and I snorted again while Carlisle looked confused.
"Anyway, like I was saying, my family and business has been quite successful, but the opportunities on the East Coast are quite limited, and I think it would be in both of our families interests to join forces," he stated
"Hmm, interesting, and how would you propose we do that?" my father asked, but I knew from the look on his face that he seemed to already know.
"Look, Charles, I know you denied me all those years ago, but I really think it would be a profitable match," Carlisle stated, and my dad stood there with his mustache twitching.
"Excuse me, Carlisle, but what are we talking about here?" I said, trying not to growl.
"Hush, little one, men are talking," Carlisle stated, and my back went up.
"That's one," my brother chuckled, ass!
"Cullen, I told you no years ago. Ain't gonna happen," my dad growled. What the fuck?
"Again, what the hell are you talking about?" I spat.
"Shhh," Carlisle said, and I did growl. How fucking dare he!
"That's two," my brother mumbled. I had no idea what was going on there.
"Sweetheart, Mr. Cullen here wants to combine our families with a marriage," my dad said, and I was confused.
"He only has a son, so unless he has ... NOOOOOOOO" I growled as it became clear what the fucker wanted.
"It would be in your best interests, Charles. Little Isabella here marries my son, and the whole of America will be ours," Carlisle stated.
"I don't fucking think so," I spat, standing up quickly, but my dad grabbed a hold of me to keep me from killing the fucker in front of me. "I will marry who I damn well please, if and when I'm ready," I yelled while Cullen stood there looking smug.
"Mr. Cullen, maybe you should give them some time, schedule another appointment on the way out," my brother suggested, but Cullen just shook his head.
"All right, dude, your funeral," my brother said as he took a seat on the couch again.
"See, Charlie, this is why women in our world are behind the scenes, meant to be seen and not heard," Cullen said, and I lost it.
"Oh, shit," I heard my dad and brother say as I threw Cullen against the wall and brought my boot up to his neck, the heel of my boot going through the wall. I smiled as Carlisle gagged, trying to struggle. He grabbed at my leg so I smacked the heel against the side of the hole and a blade popped out.
"See that, fucker? One wrong move and this blade will spill your blood all over this office, so shut the fuck up," I spat
"Charles, please," he grunted, and I smiled
"Sorry, old chap. I'm retired. You need to speak to the new Boss now." My dad chuckled, and I saw Carlisle glance at my brother.
"Sorry, bud. I'm the capo, not the big boss." My brother chuckled while Carlisle gasped and turned a little blue, so I eased off a little but kept the blade close.
"Well, get me the boss!" He choked. PUSSY! It wasn't even that strong of a hold anymore.
"No can do." Emmett chuckled as he came up behind me.
"Why the hell not?" Cullen yelled, his voice hoarse.
"The boss is a bit busy," Emmett continued, and Cullen had tears in his eyes.
"Tell your boss that this crazy woman is disrespectful, and I want to see him now," Cullen spat
"You are in no position to make demands, my friend." My dad laughed.
"Charles, for the love of God, get whoever has taken over," Cullen said in a gurgle, and I really just wanted to kill him.
"Like I said. The boss is busy, but you can talk to them face to face quite easily." My brother laughed. He was enjoying this just as much as I was. The two of us were sick.
"Fine, whatever. Just hurry." He gasped. What a dick! My hold was tight but not that tight, but the blade might be to blame.
"No problem. Meet the boss," my brother said as he squeezed my shoulder, and I watched in pure joy as Cullen's face paled.
I hauled my boot out of the wall, and he fell to the ground in a gasping heap to the floor. I had my gun aimed at him before he could make one more move. I wasn't going to shoot him. I just wanted to see the fear in his eyes.
He was still on the floor when my office door opened and a man with blond hair stood there. He took one look at me, the gun, and then Carlisle on the floor and immediately ran to him.
"Uncle C, what the hell?" the stranger asked. Hmm, Uncle C? Interesting.
"I'm sorry, Bella, this man was outside, and when he heard the bang, he came rushing over. I tried to keep him out, but he got past me," Angela said, staring daggers at the two men on the floor. She could be a scary bitch when she wanted to be—ask Ben.
"What's your name, son?" my dad asked.
"Jasper Whitlock, sir," the blond man stated as he walked toward Carlisle.
"You on his team?" I asked, and Mr. Whitlock nodded his head.
"His wife Esme is my aunt on my mother's side. She passed away when I was sixteen, and Uncle C and Esme adopted me," Jasper explained as he helped Carlisle to his feet.
Seth came through the door at that moment and offered to escort them out, which I was happy to see. My eyes narrowed as Cullen gave me one last look, his eyes full of menace. Bring it, fucker.