Posted 2021-06-25; Beta'd by Eeyorefan12

As they began their descent into Salerno, Edward rubbed Bella's arm and hand gently to wake her.

"You'll want to start clearing your ears," he said. "This'll be pretty quick."

Bella nodded, not having to force the yawn that followed.

As he'd expected, the only thing waiting for them on the ground was a long stretch of dark-colored cars, one of which they were ushered into by Aro's men.

"Where are we, exactly?" Bella peered out the tinted window, squinting at even the muted midday brightness.

Edward passed her his sunglasses, which she donned with a small smile.

"We've landed in Salerno. It's about a half-hour's drive to the town of Pogerola."

"Which is where?"

"The Amalfi Coast. The west side of Italy." He pictured it in his mind. "We're sitting on the front of the ankle, right above the foot end of the boot."

She nodded at his description.

A bit of sleep had done her some good. She appeared to be far less nervous than before. He hoped this lasted. As Aro's home came into sight, the driver pointed it out, as well as the direction of the town and the road to the local beach. Carlisle had traveled here to meet with Aro before but it was Edward's first trip on such business. His father's description had not done Aro's home justice.

How the hell could Dad call that a villa?

Aro's home resembled a castle—or a fortress, this perched atop a large hill overlooking the town, the coast, and its brilliant blue sea. The curving road to the front of the house and then the gated underground parking garage were guarded by men whose guns sat prominently at their hips, larger semi-automatics on view in the guardhouses behind them. Clearly, Aro didn't feel the need to hide his security. The Cullens' modest protection contrasted starkly against this open display. Part of this was due to cultural differences, he knew, but that didn't account for all of it. Aro's status as a member of the mafia was not private information.

Inside, they were spared formal greetings. Aro smiled at them, "Sulpicia and I will see you for supper at eight. Until then, our staff will tend to your needs."

A uniformed woman led them down a long hallway, while a male attendant wheeled their luggage behind them.

The walk to their accommodations was silent but Edward noticed Bella eyeing him as they walked abreast. He smiled and squeezed her hand, mindful to keep up their charade, and she followed his lead with a small smile of her own.

At the room, Edward thanked and tipped the staff. Inside, he closed the door and stopped Bella from moving any further by blocking her path with his arm. "Maybe check to make sure you didn't leave anything in the car before we get settled?"

She seemed to understand his unspoken message and nodded, remaining in place, pretending to look through her large handbag.

He swept the room visually first, not wanting any avoidable surprises. He didn't expect anything dangerous, but he wasn't leaving anything to chance. After all, he wasn't sure just how much was being tested—certainly his and Bella's relationship, but his skills, potentially, too. He was annoyed to see that a large domed camera sat in the center of the ceiling. It would surveil most of the room, and what it wouldn't, he didn't doubt several bugs would make up for. His family didn't typically monitor their guests this way, certainly not this blatantly, although they had the capability. Still, any cameras they placed would be much more sophisticated and nearly undetectable.

On the pretense of putting a few things away, he sat on the bed, opening the drawer and setting his wallet inside it. As expected, he felt a small protrusion stuck to the underside of the table-top. There was likely a matching one on the other side of the bed. He was willing to bet there were also listening devices near the desk, the breakfast table, and the closet. He would discreetly perform a more thorough sweep later. There didn't seem to be any more cameras, at least that he could see.

"Are you okay with that side of the bed?" he asked Bella, tilting his head to the side opposite him, letting her know it was safe to move into the room.

She nodded, coming to sit down there and take off her shoes. "Well, not a dungeon," she murmured, laughing a little too loudly.

"No." His gut clenched. He needed to warn her before she said anything that undermined their story. He'd cautioned her in Stockbridge that they would be closely watched in Italy, but she was tired and bound to make mistakes. "Why don't we go and relax in the shower for a bit?" He winked at her, watching her glance towards the bathroom.

"Um—"

He was up and pulling her towards the ensuite before she finished her thought.

Closing the door, he pressed his finger to his lips and quickly turned on the water for the shower, making its hiss echo in the tiled room. He stood close to her and whispered, his voice as low and urgent as he could make it. "The camera in our room will see everything there. There are also bugs in the bedside tables, but it's safe to assume others are well distributed around the room. Everything you say in there will be audible, and possibly what we say in here, though I doubt they've bugged the bathroom. The smaller listening devices don't last long in humid environments."

She had already looked exhausted, and now she looked pale. To her credit, she nodded, her face serious.

He continued. "I know this is a lot, and I'm sorry, but I want to make sure we're on the same page. We'll have to look like a couple—and not just any couple but a couple in the early stages of their relationship—at all times, except in here."

It was one thing for him to have told her in Stockbridge, but it was another thing for her to be faced with it here. There would be no breaks from this pretense.

Her stare seemed to be fixed on some distant spot, frighteningly blank.

"Bella?"

She moved her eyes, showing she was listening.

"I mean, we'll need to . . . show affection, as we—"

"Yes, I know." She swallowed. "I should get some more sleep."

"We'll need to look like we've showered, based on what I said before we came in here. You'd probably like to do that anyway, after the long flight. You go first and then I need to as well."

She stared at him for a moment, obviously processing what he'd just said. He saw the moment it hit home for her. This was their new reality, for now. "Right," she said, nodding slowly.

They showered in turns, Bella going first while Edward sat on the chair in front of the vanity, facing away from her, giving her the only privacy she would have in their time here, which could be days or weeks.

At least, he hoped it was only weeks. Could she last that long? She'd have to.

Later, with both of them changed into casual clothes, they returned to the bedroom. Bella laid down on top of the covers on the bed, and he followed suit, taking note of her stiff posture. He took her hand and kissed it before lying on his back, folding his arms behind his head. He hoped it was plausible enough that they were too tired for more, but he knew this momentary reprieve would not last. They were to play their part and play it well for as long as it was necessary.

- 0 -

Already dressed in his suit pants and dress shirt, Edward watched Bella eye the open closet before turning to look at him. "Are you planning on wearing a tie?" she asked.

"Not unless someone makes me." He slipped his feet into his oxfords, tying the laces smartly. It was seven-thirty and she wasn't ready yet. He wasn't sure if he should worry about this, as his sisters seemed to take a lot longer to prepare themselves for such affairs. It struck him that perhaps she wasn't sure how formally she should dress. That would explain the question about the tie. "Uh, do you need some help with anything?"

"Erm . . ." Clad in a robe, she was staring at the dresses in the closet. Edward recognized at least one of them as Rosie's, with a few other things he was sure were from his mother's wardrobe. He supposed that Alice's clothes would have been too small.

"A cocktail dress is fine," he said, rubbing out a small mark on his shoe.

When he glanced back, Bella was still frowning at the closet.

Maybe she didn't know what would be considered cocktail attire? "I think one of these would be appropriate," he said, joining her and pointing at the two dresses that fell into this category.

Her choice in hand, Bella slipped into the bathroom to change.

Alone, though not unwatched, Edward picked up the box of condoms he'd bought stateside. They were a prop in this charade but not one that Bella needed to see. He stuffed the box into the back of his bedside drawer, hoping their presence would further cement Aro's belief in his and Bella's relationship. He fully expected their room and belongings to be searched, and he figured he might as well use that to their advantage.

Then he moved on to another, less prop-like task: pulling out and checking his guns.

Bella was quick in the bathroom, her abrupt exit catching Edward off guard. He'd banked on having a solid twenty minutes alone. With a direct line of sight between the bathroom and table, there was no way to hide what he was doing, nor to conceal the shoulder holster he was wearing. Having just pulled the magazine on his Sig, he was testing the firing mechanism when she appeared, freezing in place.

Crap.

"Uh, I'll put this away for later," he said.

She shook her head. "It's okay. It's . . . been a while since I've seen that done." Then her face reddened like she had said something wrong. "Hunting rifles," she mumbled for the benefit of the microphones.

He knew she'd been thinking of her Dad. Unless the man kept his gun outside of his home, and Edward doubted that, she would have seen this activity before. Seeing her move to the vanity and pull out a curling iron from her bag, he replaced the Sig magazine and moved on to the Glock. He'd deliberately chosen this spot to field strip his guns, wanting whoever was watching to know that he was well-armed. It wouldn't do to have them think he was trying to hide his weapons. Given that he was expected to carry a gun by virtue of his business affiliation, he also didn't want there to be any surprises as to what he was armed with.

Bella watched as he returned one pistol to his lockbox and holstered the other before shrugging into his suit jacket. "Do you . . . need to bring a gun to dinner?"

"Not to carry shows weakness, particularly given my temporary role as security advisor."

Her "Oh" sounded breathy.

He decided not to tell her about the knives he also wore. "We should go, though," he said, taking her hand. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Think of this as a cultural exchange," he whispered and then kissed her on the lips.

There was no pretense in his enjoying the kiss. And if he was reading her body language right, neither was there for her, though her cheeks still pinked. So shy. So innocent in many ways, despite her impressive formal education.

As they made their way towards the dining hall, Edward surveyed their surroundings, making note of exit points, assessing the usefulness of each should an abrupt departure be required. The habit was one acquired in the military, though it had become almost unnecessary in recent years. He resented its resurrection. His and Bella's stay in Italy would require a hypervigilance with which he was unhappily familiar. They were in hostile territory, but they would need to behave as if they were not. Glancing at Bella, Edward felt his stomach twist. She had done incredibly well so far, and he forced himself to focus on the hope that she would continue to do so.

"Congratulations on finding your way here," Aro said, chuckling and welcoming them to the large dining room. "I appreciate that our home is quite large. And a formal welcome to Italy, Isabella." He kissed her on both cheeks, clearly catching her off guard. He smiled. It seemed to be a genuine enough expression, but Edward still didn't like it.

He liked even less having to repeat the same gesture with Aro.

"Sulpicia will join us shortly," Aro promised. "But please, sit."

The dining hall was just that—a large hall partially filled with a long table, this surrounded by tiny alcoves of small rounded sofas that allowed their occupants to enjoy the ocean views. Edward and Bella seated themselves in one of the nooks. Her hand was on his like a death grip. When she accepted one of the glasses of Prosecco a staff member offered, he wondered if he should warn her to drink it slowly, but she took a tiny sip and set the glass aside, seeming to prefer to keep her hands occupied with him.

Under different circumstances, he would have liked it.

Aro stuck with small talk, seemingly eager to put his guests at ease. Bella visibly relaxed, though she was obviously awed by the amenities Aro explained were at their disposal—or rather, her disposal. Edward would be kept busy with work for much of the time.

When Sulpicia finally arrived, it was clear that in addition to being detached from notions of time and timeliness, she was also somewhat removed from conventional expectations around polite conversation, too.

"Is this the ragazza you told me about? The girl you worried would be all our undoing?"

"Sulpicia, my dear." Aro stood and greeted his wife with a kiss. Edward had politely gotten to his feet as soon as she had entered the room. "This is Edward and his lovely Isabella."

"Si, cosi bella," Sulpicia remarked, grasping Edward's upper arms a little too tightly to be polite as she leaned in for the obligatory kisses. He wondered which of the two of them she was calling beautiful since she hadn't yet looked in Bella's direction. As Aro's wife finally moved toward the chair that one of the servers had pulled out for her, and the rest of them followed, she stopped next to Bella. "Mio Dio, look at that hair." She fingered a lock, peering at it. "The color is so natural! Enjoy your youth, darling. One's looks fade far too quickly. And your Edward is such a fine-looking man, you cannot give him reason to stray. I can imagine he keeps you well-satisfied."

Leaving Bella tomato red and staring at the floor, Sulpicia turned back to Aro. "I've been quite lonely with you gone, and now you owe me a party. Let's have one later this week. I think our young visitatori americani will be in great demand."

Ignoring her provocative commentary, Aro caressed Sulpicia's cheek, "We will. You can enjoy planning that later."

Though he kept his face a careful mask, Edward was as startled by Sulpicia's insinuations as he could see Bella was; however, his alarm was not for the same reasons. Sulpicia's lack of discretion was a time bomb in their line of work. He'd need to talk to Aro about this, or at least find out how he kept her contained. Clearly, he had managed to thus far. Somehow.

"Are you planning on riding at all this week, my dear?" Aro asked his wife. They had just sat down at the table, one of the room's four attendants sliding a wide bowl of soup in front of each of them.

"NON LA RIBOLLITA!" Sulpicia shrieked.

Bella dropped her spoon, the implement clattering to the floor.

Under the table, Edward gripped her hand, squeezing it and shooting her a look, entreating her to keep her eyes on him until whatever this tantrum was about was resolved. She nodded back at him as Sulpicia continued screaming at the staff in Italian. As far as Edward could tell with his rudimentary skills in the language, Sulpicia thought this particular soup was not impressive enough for their guests.

The bowls were quickly whisked away. Bella's spoon was efficiently replaced by one of the servers.

"More wine, my darling?" Aro asked his wife. "And in English, please, for our guests. The staff will understand you."

Edward felt marginally apprehensive when a fresh wave of dishes arrived, but there was no more screaming from their female host.

"Yes," Sulpicia said to Aro. "I'll take Picco to Benincasa. Bella must come, too."

"To the town?" Edward asked, unsure of the location.

"No, horseback riding," Sulpicia said as if this was obvious.

Bella shot Edward a panicked look, and he responded quickly, "I'd prefer she not do anything quite so high-risk." He picked up Bella's hand and gently kissed her knuckles in a feigned gesture of apology. "My Bella is prone to accidents. Perhaps an activity that is less . . . athletic, hmm?"

Aro frowned a little and Edward challenged him with his best "Don't fuck with me" stare. It seemed to work because the man smiled congenially and shrugged before he looked away.

Sulpicia, however, didn't back down and peered at Edward over her wine glass, swirling the red liquid inside it as her eyes narrowed in shrewd assessment. Then she smirked and licked her lips at him. In a beat, she was cheerful again. "I'll take her shopping, then. No one with such a lovely body should be wearing things like that."

Edward's grip on his fork tightened, and he bit the inside of his cheek. The woman was either insane or so insulated from ordinary life as to have forgotten—or never have been taught—basic courtesy. It wouldn't serve him or Bella to challenge her unnecessarily. Sulpicia might throw insults, but it seemed that these did not perturb Bella as they did him. He'd thought he would have the harder part of this bargain, working so closely with Aro, but it appeared Bella would have an equally challenging role to play beyond that of his devoted girlfriend. He hoped to God that Aro kept a wide buffer of handlers around his wife when he set her loose on the world.

Sulpicia's wild wanderings through topics and commentary, both conventional and not, continued throughout dinner. Before the entree was finished, they knew her preference in wine (Merlot), hosiery (Gucci), and underwear style (thongs). Aro sailed through the wide range of subjects like it was the most natural thing in the world and Sulpicia was delighted to learn that Edward was able to follow much of the discussion of fashion, courtesy of his long association with Alice. Still, by the time he led Bella back to their room, Edward was exhausted, and not by the time change or their recent travel.

"Oh. My. God," Bella said, as soon as they closed the door.

"You can say that again," Edward mumbled. And not much else. He ran a hand casually through his hair and glanced up at the camera mounted in the ceiling. Bella nodded in understanding.

They were quiet as they readied themselves for the night, taking their turns in the bathroom. However, the almost peaceful atmosphere changed abruptly when Edward joined Bella in the bed, this time under the covers. He turned off the light quickly, hoping to at least partially hide the tense look on her face from the camera. Not that the darkness would offer much privacy; most security cameras were night-vision enabled. At least it wouldn't pick up on her blush, which had been noticeable.

He scooted closer to Bella, turning onto his side to face her and slowly draping his arm over her. She stiffened at the touch and he kissed her forehead, hoping this was enough contact to avoid raising suspicions. He removed his arm from her and rolled onto his back.

"Night," Bella said softly, her body softening marginally beside him.

"Good night," he whispered back. He hoped it would be. Tomorrow was going to be a crapshoot for them both.

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.