Welcome back, my darlings! I'm honored by the response the prologue received last week! Here is the first official chapter!

A note on translation: I've done my best to provide context in the story whenever there is a phrase in any language other than English, however, if there is still confusion, I've put all the translation at the bottom AN so as not to break up the story.

Massive thank you to Fran S. Flower, who is truly a phenomenal beta. I do tend to tinker with things up until the very end, so any outstanding mistakes are all on me.

Then of course, my awesome pre-reading team: DaniDarlingxx, JGaff, PearlyFox, and my lil sis who doesn't have an account, has never read Twilight, but was dying to read this one.

I

Le Fantôme Vengeur

Isabelle

On n'est jamais si bien servi que par soi-même.

The steady thrum of rain grounds me. It clears the clutter from my mind, sharpens my focus until I am razor-sharp—lethal.

I shift in my seat, the only movement I've made in nearly twenty minutes. Across from me, Alice looks up from her laptop.

"We're almost ready," she whispers. I nod to let her know I've heard her.

"Where is Rosalie?"

Alice frowns, turning to her laptop. "The team is nearly in position," she says, typing away. "Rose is on the perimeter of the compound." She pauses, a finger coming up to her ear. I can tell she's listening to their communication. She has a headset in each ear, one set to our team across town at the compound; the other will be attached to my team as soon as we move. "Rose has just confirmed only four bodies on the property." Alice turns to her computer, furiously typing as she narrates to me. My eyes flicker to her screen, and I watch as she easily patches into the security cameras at the compound. I can't see any of my team members, but that's the fucking point. We will be lethal ghosts tonight.

I turn my face to the car window again as I listen to Alice work. She's sharp, efficient, and speaks only when it's necessary. Through her, I hear about the moves being made on the compound.

"They've located the child," Alice says, and I turn to look at her. Her gray eyes are almost eerily white in the light of her computer screen. "They are still looking for the mother."

I nod. That's my queue.

I step out of the car, and the cold rain hits my overly warm skin like tiny shards of ice. It is brutal, but it only serves to sharpen me further. I move to the back of the car, pulling open the trunk and retrieving the duffle bag I've stored there. I make sure my headset is working.

"Test," I whisper.

"Clear," Alice confirms. I snap the back of the SUV shut and slip into the shadows of the building nearest me. I see Jasper waiting a block down, and I nod to him in the dark. I barely see the slight tilt of his head in acknowledgment.

This moment has taken weeks of planning. Some bastards are easy to take down, they will invite any pretty little thing into their bed, and from there, it is a matter of slitting their throats, sometimes a slip of poison into their drinks. Most of them are too arrogant to ever see it coming.

Demetri is a different breed of bastard. He's a local politician, still doesn't hold all that much sway, but he's quickly rising, building a name for himself. He also happens to be a sadistic tyrant.

When wind of Demetri's abuse against his wife and daughter reached me, I had my team immediately investigate him. He's a slippery bastard. He knows how to cover his tracks, but a long history of violence against women can be found in his past if you know where to look. Still, he is too well connected because there isn't a shred of proof of his true nature. I don't know who he knows, but whoever they are, they have a powerful reach.

The mere fact that he thinks of himself above the law is the reason I'm here tonight. He's just another termite, and I've come to eradicate him.

It's taken weeks to time it. Demetri is a paranoid fucker, and his security detail is tight, too tight to storm the compound he calls home until we had the right opportunity.

Last week, Demetri broke his wife's arm when he was hitting her. There's not been any report of it, no complaints, but to anyone watching them, it's clear what's happened. The rat bastard is so image-obsessed he won't be seen with anyone less than perfect, which is why tonight is the night to strike. His wife and child are home with minimal security while he's out here, schmoozing the public.

He's not going to live long enough to know what happened to his family.

I make my way up to the rooftops that we've fully planned out. I've studied the area for days, and I know every fucking rock in the vicinity.

I pick my spot, setting the duffle down on the gravel-covered roof. Unzipping the bag, I begin assembling my weapon of choice.

Demetri is the kind of fucked up fucker that I'd like to kill with my bare hands, but I realize even I have my limitations. He's going to be surrounded by security detail. There is no way I'll be able to get to him without my face being seen. No, this is a kill that needs distance.

I set up my sniper rifle, running through my mental checklist to ensure everything is running smoothly. The gun is cold but familiar in my hands as I settle in with it.

"We're clear," Jasper whispers into the headset.

"Clear," I respond.

I set my sight through the scope, waiting for Demetri to leave the venue. As soon as I see his face, he'll be dead.

The rain has eased, just enough to make my task easier.

"Alice, check in," I murmur, my gaze still set.

"He should be exiting in the next few minutes," Alice whispers. "I'm waiting on confirmation from Rose."

I nod, focusing again on the building entrance. Years of conditioning allows me to lay still and silent on this rooftop, waiting.

Down on the street, there is a slight commotion as cars pull up, the valet getting ready to assist the hotshot politician. I sharpen my focus, my breathing light as I wait.

Through the glass of the front doors, I catch a glimpse of Demetri's dark hair, and I shift, readying myself. "I have eyes," I whisper.

"Clear," Jasper responds.

I wait for Alice to object. When she stays silent, I focus on Demetri, silently counting down as he edges closer and closer to the door. Less than three, two…

"HOLD!" Alice screams into my ear.

"Fuck," I hiss, flinching from her volume. "Report!"

"Rose has the wife," Alice says, speaking quickly. In my scope, I can see Demetri stepping outside into the drizzling night. He's surrounded by security guards, but none are looking in my direction. "Abort, abort," Alice says.

I don't hesitate. I retreat from the ledge, shoving the gun into the duffle, barely managing to zip it shut as I sprint off the roof. I'm down on the street in a flash, climbing into the back of the SUV, when I see Jasper sprint to the driver's side.

We're gone before any can even know we were ever there.

"Explain!" I snarl, anger boiling in me now that I've been denied the opportunity to kill the bastard. Alice is frantic, typing on her computer.

"Rose hasn't explained, she…" Alice pauses, zoning out lightly as she listens to her headpiece. I swear, sitting back in my seat.

If this bastard gets away from me, there will be hell to pay.

-V-

"Someone tell me what the fuck is going on!"

The moment I storm into the compound, Rose is on her feet. "We extracted the wife," Rose says as people shift around the room uneasily. "Demetri is in bed with Aro."

My nostrils flare at the mention of the cancer of a human being. "My office," I snarl.

Rose nods, following me down the hall. I nod for Jasper to follow us, and he falls into step silently. I can feel my teeth grinding so hard, I feel like I'm going to crack a molar, and I take a breath, trying to relax, even a fraction.

We move through the compound silently, and anyone who sees us gets the hell out of our way. The city is old, boasting architecture most other cities in the United States can't even dream up. It is largely thanks to the countless generations of European immigrants who built the city back when architecture was still an art form. The main building of the compound—La Cathédrale Ancienne—was built more than a hundred years ago. It was once a convent that housed Benedictine nuns.

The main cathedral still stands and is the only place on the property that is still used for its original purpose. Everything else has been transformed.

My office is on the fourth floor of the East Wing, just beyond my living quarters. It's far enough from most of the activity areas throughout the compound, making it easy to spot when people are up here when they shouldn't be.

Despite the Gothic architecture of the East Wing, the interior has been fully renovated. My office is all sharp, black and white clean lines. It is elegant, but it is not a comfortable place. I keep it that way to keep people on edge. The moment anyone lets their guard down in front of me, they are being weak, and I won't have that shit.

I throw myself into my stiff black leather chair, and Rose and Jasper hover on the other side of my desk, waiting for permission to sit. I nod to the chairs, and they both sink down. They aren't related, but it's hard to believe it sometimes. They're just about the same height, with the same high cheekbones and full mouths. Jasper's hair is darker than Rosalie's wheat blond, but otherwise, they can pass as twins.

"Talk."

Rosalie needs no further prompting. "We went to extract the wife, as expected. It was a simple enough retrieval, but…" she pauses, eyeing me. "When we first came for them, she asked if we were Aro's men." My spine stiffens at his name, and I can feel Jasper's eyes on me. I don't say anything, and Rose continues. "When I asked her about it later, she told me her husband has been in with Aro." She pauses. "She made it sound like they are in deep together."

I mull this information over, my jaw clicking under the strain of my grinding teeth.

"Where are they now?"

Rose shifts in her seat. "Safehouse. We'll be moving them tomorrow."

I nod. "Make sure they are taken care of," I say, dismissing her. Rose nods and stands, leaving my office before I can say anything else. I turn to look at Jasper. He's watching me with that fucking look on his face that tells me he's trying to read me again. "What do you see, doctor?" I mock.

He gives me a small, half-smile. "This is a temporary setback," he says, his tone patient, not rising to my challenging sneer. I look at him. "Demetri will die; we'll be sure of it. But if he can get us in closer to Aro…" Jasper pauses as my jaw clicks again.

"That fucker," I snarl, shaking my head. I stand, pacing behind my desk. There is a wall of windows looking out on the city, and I stand there, staring. The city is dark and twisted, just like the corrupt fucks who inhabit it. "How many did we kill tonight?"

I can hear Jasper shift in his chair, even though I don't turn to look at him. "Four, all private security detail on Demetri's property."

I briefly wonder if the men that died tonight deserved it. Rarely does someone get into this life without deserving to be killed for something or another, and I quickly shove my thoughts aside.

"How did we handle the extraction?"

Jasper knows what I'm asking. "They staged a kidnapping," he says, shaking his head. "Demetri will come home and panic. We'll have people watching him, see if he goes to Aro."

I nod, considering this. "Send Emmett in. Demetri will be looking for new blood."

In the reflection of the windows, I can see Jasper nod. "Anything else?"

I suck on my teeth as I run over the information I've received tonight. "Get Alice digging. I want to know every fucking penny that has crossed Demetri's path. Have someone check in with Tanya as well. I want a report."

Jasper is quiet, and I turn to look at him. He's giving me a look I can't quite read. "We'll get him, Iz."

I glare at him. "Get the fuck out of my office."

Jasper nods, standing. He's unaffected by my snapping at him. Nothing really shakes the man; that's why he's such a steady number two. "You know where to reach me," he says, leaving my office.

As soon as I'm alone, my body starts to uncoil, shaking with pent-up anger and frustration. I'm furious that Demetri is still out there, fucking people over and able to abuse whoever the fuck he wants. I take one moment to take comfort in the fact that, at the very least, he can no longer target his wife and daughter, but that comfort is small. "Fuck," I snarl, pacing across my office.

I'm soaked through, angry beyond reason. I need to clear my head.

I stalk across my office, into my private bathroom, opting for a hot shower to try to work out the knots of tension.

The shower is scalding, punishing, but it's not enough. It cleans me, clears me for only a moment, but soon enough, I'm tense, angry again.

My fury will not be easily subsided tonight.

-V-

"Isabelle?"

It's been several hours since the attempted assassination. Behind me, the sky is lightening with the coming dawn, but I still haven't slept.

I'm angry, and focusing on work has helped me channel some of my chaotic energy. I look up from my desk at the knock to see Alice in the door frame, staring at me. "What," I ask, sitting back. She holds up a file.

I wave her in, and she steps into the office, gently pushing my door shut. She crosses my office, her boots near-silent on my marble flooring. She sets the file in front of me, and my eyes drop to it as I flip it open.

"He's a nasty son of a bitch," she says with a shake of her head. I glance up at her. "But I think his wife was right. I think he's in bed with Aro."

The embers of my rage spark into an inferno again at just the mention of his name. "How deep?" I ask, pouring over the file. Alice sighs.

"Deep, I think. The more rocks I kick over, the more I think he's been Aro's the whole time."

My jaw clicks with my anger, and I take a deep breath, trying to work my jaw loose.

"Son of a bitch," I mutter. My eyes land on the photos of Amanda that were taken at the hospital, the original photos that told us all we needed to know about Demetri's abuse. It's bad, and he keeps the abuse to places people can't see. These photos never made it beyond the hospital attendant who took them, not until they landed in my lap.

Behind Amanda's photo, Alice has collected nearly a dozen reports from women who were too afraid to go on the record, recounting not only Demetri's infidelity but his abuse as well.

My rage swells yet again. "Where are they now?" I ask, looking up at Alice. She glances at the photo of Amanda.

"We have them secured. Jenks has gotten their new identities ready. She's going under the name Heidi Montgomery now, and her daughter is going by Chelsea. We're about to transfer them to their final location. Did you want to talk to her before they leave?"

I consider it, then nod. "Yes, set it up."

Alice nods, understanding she's being dismissed. "I'll make the arrangements. Is there anything else you need?"

I look at her. She's so fucking young to be in this world, but she's already proven herself to be invaluable. I want to check in with her, give her some fucking words of wisdom about getting out while she still can, but I need her, and honestly, I'd rather her be ruthless than a victim. Getting out now will only get her killed.

"No," I say, shaking my head once. She nods and leaves my office. I sit back in my chair, pushing thoughts of Alice aside. She's nineteen; she'll fucking figure it out.

I reach for the file again, pulling it open. Demetri is a mean son of a bitch, but he's a fucking coward. I want to tear him apart for the shit he's pulled not only against his wife but countless women as well. I flip through the file, letting my anger brew deeper and deeper. Demetri will die, of this I'm sure, but Alice is right; I fucking need him. The thought of needing any man is so abhorrent to me; I'm almost shaking with my fury.

I snap the folder shut, slamming it down on my desk. I stand, balancing easily on my expensive heels. They click, sharp as gunshots, as I make my way out of my office. I lock the door behind me, even though I know no one would dare go in there. They know I'd skin them alive.

No one is in the hall, and that's just as well. I'm in no mood to talk to anyone right now.

I make my way through the building, heading downstairs to the workout facility. The kind of rage brewing in me can be released one of two ways, and since I can't castrate Demetri yet, I'll settle for the next best thing.

I head to my private changing room, pulling out workout pants and a sports bra. I shed the expensive as fuck clothes I'm wearing, swapping them out for black spandex and cotton. I reach up to pull my short hair back off my face before removing my jewelry. The only thing that stays is the thin gold chain around my neck.

When I'm properly dressed, I head out to the gym, stretching my muscles. No one is around, which isn't surprising since it's fucking early. I push myself through some warmups, letting my muscles pull and stretch appropriately before I start my drills.

MMA training started out of necessity for me but has since become the only form of therapy I'll tolerate. It is brutal on my body, punishing in ways I need.

It lets me channel my rage, my fury in productive ways.

I start with a few box jumps, getting my heart rate up, not that it really needs help there. My heart has been pounding for what feels like hours now. I move through a few exercises, but nothing works to give me the release I really need. Finally, I retrieve my boxing tape, wrapping my wrists before making my way to the boxing stand. It's shaped with six small targets, roughly spaced to resemble a human body. Imagining Demetri's face on the machine, I unload, hit after hit, my legs coming up, landing blows as I move through this coordinated dance I know so well.

I push my body harder, unrelenting. I have so much pent-up anger, frustration, rage.

There is no word in any language I know to fully capture the toxicity of my wrath as I push harder and harder.

I don't stop until my knuckles are bleeding.

-V-

I've been awake nearly forty-eight hours now, and it's beginning to get to me. My body is exhausted from the punishment I put it through, but there is still work to be done.

After my punishing workout, I retreat to my rooms again, taking another shower. The water is still scalding, and it helps soothe my tired muscles.

When I finally manage to pull my body out from under the spray, I work through the motions of drying my short hair. It's blond right now and cut so short sometimes I still don't recognize myself. I look like my mom, with my hair light. Charlie would hate it, which is why I've done it. I apply my makeup, taking time to make sure it is exact before I get dressed. I pull out a black lace balconette bra and matching black thong that are both criminally overpriced. The smooth silk glides over my body, though, and despite their outrageous price, I have a drawer full of similar garments.

Next, I pull out silk thigh highs, sliding them up my legs and focusing on the feel of the fabric against my skin rather than the fact that my muscles want to give out under me.

When my undergarments are in place, I hunt down a skirt and blouse. The skirt is a sleek, tightly fitted black pencil skirt, my blouse a white silk button-down. I finish the look with a massive Cartier ring, earrings, and my standard white gold watch. I slip on some devastatingly sharp black Louboutins, and immediately, my body unfurls as the shoes force my back even straighter.

Now that I'm dressed and made up, I feel better, more secure, and steady. This is who I am. I have power in this look.

I make my way back to my office, retrieving my phone from its charger and scrolling through my agenda for the day. I have a few things I need to take care of this morning, but the first and most pressing is going to see Demetri's wife.

I glance at my watch, noting the time. I slip forward, hitting an intercom on my desk. "Yes?"

"Get a car ready for me. I'm going to Carmen's."

Gianna doesn't say anything else; she simply hangs up and does what she's told. She's good about shit like that.

I stand from my desk, moving across the room to retrieve a coat. It's another wet day, though today is more of a drizzle than an actual downpour. I pull on the black coat, grab my purse, and head out of my office.

Downstairs, a black Rolls Royce is waiting for me, and I climb into the back seat, barely glancing at the driver. My phone chimes with a message, and I take a minute to read the email. I've been running this operation of mine for nearly seven years now, and while most of it is illegal, I do have some legal ventures as well. Sure, they often serve to launder money, but on the whole, they are upstanding companies, doing small amounts of good into a community that couldn't be more apathetic.

I respond to the meeting invite, making sure it is added to my calendar. Everything in my phone is written in code, and even then, it's a code only I know. I don't trust anyone with this information.

The car cuts through the city as I tend to work affairs. I've missed a few emails that I respond to quickly, keeping a mental list of things I need Alice to do when I see her next.

By the time the car pulls up to the house on the outskirts of town, I'm feeling better, having been even somewhat productive today.

I climb out of the car, snapping the door shut behind me as I make my way up the old steps of the otherwise tidy house. I barely knock on the door once before it is opening, and the soft, warm face of a woman who has seen way too much shit but is somehow still kind is smiling at me.

"Isabelle," she sighs, motioning me into the house.

"Carmen," I say, stepping past the threshold. "How are you?"

She sighs. "Fine, Mija," she says, waving me off. "How are you? You look tired."

Her words would piss me off if they came from anyone else, but Carmen is different. She worries about me, but she'd never try to stop me. I appreciate that about her.

"I'm fine," I say, my voice soft. I seldom snap at Carmen. She studies me a moment before nodding.

"All right, well, I imagine you're here to see the sweethearts," she says, shaking her head. I follow her through the house. Inside is immaculate, if not a little old, just as it always is. "The poor things were so scared when they showed up last night," she says, her tone disapproving. I don't respond. I don't care if she doesn't approve of my methods, as long as she's still willing to help us.

She takes me upstairs, and my tight pencil skirt makes climbing the stairs difficult. I reach out to the railing to steady myself on the carpeted stairs as we climb.

Upstairs, there is a more recent construction. A few years ago, I had a team help Carmen remodel her second floor, building a room in the middle of the house without windows. It's often the safest place for women we're trying to keep hidden.

"I think the child is sleeping," Carmen warns. I nod as she reaches to gently tap on the door before she opens it. In the small room, a woman with long brown hair is sitting on a bed, a girl of about seven wrapped in her arms. The woman sits up when she sees me, her eyes wary. Her daughter is watching us with large, brown eyes.

"Mija, this is Isabelle," Carmen says, waving to me. "It's okay; she's the one who rescued you two."

Amanda—now Heidi regards me. Carmen gently backs out of the room, and I motion to the seat next to the bed. "May I?"

Heidi nods slowly, and I take a seat, my legs automatically crossing at the ankles.

"Who are you?"

I glance at her daughter, but before I can say anything, Carmen speaks gently. "Sweet Chelsea, would you like a snack?" Carmen asks. The child stares at her for a long moment, and I wonder if she's already forgotten her new name. Finally, she looks up at her mother. Heidi gives her daughter a gentle smile of encouragement, and the child climbs off the bed, taking Carmen's outstretched hand.

As soon as they are gone, and the door is shut, Heidi looks back at me. We might look similar in another life. Her long hair is almost the same shade as mine used to be. Even her eyes are a similar dark brown. A flash of anger burns through me at the vulnerable look on her face, and I have to look away from her.

"Why?" she asks, and I look back, clearing my throat.

"I was going to kill your husband."

She doesn't even blink. "Was?"

I take a breath. "You told my associate that he's in bed with Aro Passon?" At this, I can see Heidi physically tremble. I wonder how many times she's crossed paths with the monster. She nods slowly, and I take a breath. "We're going to use your husband to get to Aro."

Heidi considers this. "It won't be easy," she says slowly. "He's so paranoid," she pauses, and I nod.

"We'll take care of it."

Heidi stares at me. "What can I do to help?"

Her bravery catches me slightly off guard. "I need any information you have on their connection. How much does Aro come to your husband? What ties do they have?"

Heidi licks her lips. "I don't know. He… he kept me mostly at arm's length, and to be honest, I didn't want to know much." She pauses, looking stricken. I wonder what horrors she's been subjected to. "But I know my husband used to go see Aro at least once a month. Aro was funding most of his campaigns."

I frown. Aro must have played one hell of a shell game to hide his involvement in Demetri's campaign. "What sort of work did they do together?"

Heidi shrugs, shaking her head. "I don't know."

I sigh, nodding. She stares at me, her uninjured arm coming up to rest on the cast on her left arm. My eyes flicker to it briefly before I look back up.

"What will happen to us now?"

"My team will relocate you," I say slowly. "You and your daughter will assume new lives with new identities."

"How?" her voice cracks over the question.

"I have associates who are going to smuggle you out of the country," I glance at my watch. "It will be soon, a few hours now."

She shakes her head. "But my husband… you don't know how connected he is."

I lean forward, my lips curling in a cold, cruel smile. "He may be good," I murmur. "But I'm better. Neither he nor any of his associates will find you or your daughter, so long as you do as you're told."

She eyes me for a long moment. "What does he think has happened to us?"

I shift back on my chair, considering how much to tell her. "Right now, he thinks you've been kidnapped. I'm sure he's waiting to hear some sort of ransom."

She licks her chapped lips. "What will the world think happened to us?"

I stare at her. "That depends on your husband. If he goes to the authorities, we have people in place to intercept the story." I pause, considering it. "We'll fake your deaths. The world will let go of you and your daughter, and eventually, you'll be forgotten."

Heidi looks like she might burst into tears. "Just like that?"

I nod. "Just like that."

She sucks in a shaking breath. "Thank you."

Her gratitude makes me uncomfortable. I don't do this to save the women; I do this to punish the abusers.

"Keep your head down, make smarter choices, and stay out of trouble," I order her, uncrossing my ankles and standing. She watches me, nodding thickly.

"Yes, of course."

I give her one last look before leaving her room. I head downstairs, finding Carmen with the child in the kitchen. It's another safe place in the house, being mostly blocked off from any outside views.

"Someone will be in touch," I say to Carmen. She looks up at me.

"Can I convince you to eat before you leave?"

I give her a small half-smile and shake my head. "Goodbye, Carmen," I pause, my eyes falling to the child. She's looking up at me with massive brown eyes, and something deep and painful in me twists. I approach her, bending over so that I'm eye-level with her. "Be strong," I whisper to her. "Look out for your mom. Keep each other safe."

She's so little, but she seems to understand me because she nods, her eyes wide with terror but also determination. The small fight I can see in her tells me this child will be fine. I stand, give Carmen one last look before I turn, and stalk out of the house.

I'm dying to know what you all think of Isabelle. She's a tough cookie for sure.

I'll see you all next week for another POV! Make sure to find my group on FB (Fanfics for Nerds) to get exclusive teasers and photos for this and all my other WIPS!

Translations:

1. Le Fantôme Vengeur - The Vengeful Ghost (French)

2. On n'est jamais si bien servi que par soi-même. - If you want something done right, you must do it yourself (loose translation) (French)

3. La Cathédrale Ancienne - The Old Cathedral (French)

4. Mija - My daughter/term of endearment (Spanish)