Capitolo Primo

A/N: Wow. I'm always blown away by the response to the first chapter so thank you for that. The prologue was super short so here is the 1st chapter a little early. The chapter titles are in Italian and translations are at the bottom of the chapter. Thanks as always to my readers and my crew. Off we go!

Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead. –Benjamin Franklin

Once I arrived at Billy's house, I told him the story again, only stopping to let myself cry and mourn the loss of my parents. I was still in a state of shock, where my brain had built a protective bubble around itself, keeping me from completely losing my shit. Billy took care of contacting the authorities, and when I gave the statement to the police, I told them I fled for fear of my own life. Luckily, the evidence found at the home ruled me out as a suspect, but they had no other leads.

After everything was taken care of with the authorities, Jacob and Billy helped me pack up the entire house. I wasn't going to keep it, and I had to wait for it to be sold. Most of my parents' belongings were auctioned off or given to Billy. I kept some of my mom's clothes and jewelry along with some of my dad's stuff. Their stuff and all my other belongings were going into storage until I either came back or when I was settled in New York. I only kept some of my clothes that would come with me while I traveled. I knew I wasn't staying in Washington after the financial affairs were taken care of, and the residual money from life insurance and the money they set aside for me was clear. So I knew I needed to start my search for Edward Cullen. But there was something I needed to do first. I still hadn't opened the letter from my parents yet, and I was left with a burning desire to know what their last words were to me. I ducked out of the room I was sharing with Jacob's sister, Rachel, as everyone was asleep. Billy had a small house so he had no room for me anywhere else, another reason I wanted to leave soon. I pulled on a hoodie as I headed outside to sit on the porch and turned on the light. With shaking fingers, I tore open the envelope and took out the contents. There was a picture of my parents and me that was fairly recent. There was also a Polaroid—this picture older and worn—of my dad, my mom, and another man, all much younger. I noticed how much I looked like my mom at that age, something I had been told my entire life. I ended up getting my dad's eyes though. My mom and the man were gazing at each other with a look that I could only describe as…longing?

I knew this was an old picture and I knew my parents had loved each other with every fiber of their beings, so I took the time to study the other man. He was extremely handsome, but something about him felt—dark. He had piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair, like a debonair GQ model. I turned the Polaroid over, and on the back, it said Charlie, Renee, and Eddie - 1996. My brows furrowed in confusion. There was that guy's name again. I put the picture on top of the other one in my hand and put them on the side table. I pulled what I assumed was the letter out of the envelope and then turned it upside down to make sure there was nothing else in there.

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly as I unfolded the pages.

Our Dearest Bella,

If you are reading this, then it means that things have gone horribly awry. Your dad and I tried to give you a life that we never had, but the past has a way of never really disappearing and you can never outrun it. But living in fear prevents us from living life or getting to experience the joy along with the sorrow. The only regret I have is that I won't get to see you fall in love, get married, and have children.

I stopped momentarily because the hot tears were gathering and then tracking down my cheeks, making it hard to read. I wiped them away and took several calming steady breaths. In less than a couple short weeks, I went from having loving parents and a place to live to now having lost both my parents and I no longer could stay in Washington. I would be traveling all the way to the other side of the US to try and find some guy I had never met before. I had nothing and no one. I continued with the letter, relishing this last connection with my parents.

Before I met your dad and fell in love with him, I made a mistake and got wrapped up with the wrong man. Edward Cullen was handsome, rich, and dangerous. He was also a married man with a child, but he wanted me and I wanted him. We slept together a few times before I realized that I didn't want to be his goomah. A year later, I met your dad, through Edward, and the rest was history. We were like family once, but your dad and I wanted to have children and raise them in Washington away from the life we lived in New York. I'm so sorry I have to ask you to go there, but there really isn't anyone else I can think of, baby, and he is the only one that can keep you safe now. Sweet girl, please, we know it is asking a lot, but this is all we can give you once we are gone.

We love you so very much, and while we may not be with you physically, we are watching over you.

Love Dad and Mom

I dropped the letter in my lap and palmed my face with my hands before fisting them into my hair. This was madness. My mom slept with a married man, and what the fuck was a goomah? It sounded Italian, and though I had taken a year when I was in college and my parents spoke it occasionally, it was not a word I recognized. I pulled out my phone to look it up. There were several definitions, but one thing that caught my eye was partway down the page: (Italian-American slang) A mistress. (slang) The mistress of a Mafioso … Mafioso, like the mafia? Were they even around anymore? I felt like I was in a bad episode of The Sopranos. I had never imagined my parents being in a world like that. My dad was a cop for christ's sake.

I put the letter and the pictures back in the envelope and placed it in my hoodie pocket. I picked up my phone again and typed in Edward Cullen. The first thing that came up was a very attractive guy, who looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, with bronze-colored hair and green eyes. There was no way it was the same guy as in the picture, but they looked very similar. After scanning too many pages, I found that the handsome guy was Edward Jr., and his father, Edward Sr., was a very prolific businessman in Manhattan with multiple businesses throughout the city. The dad had to be the one I was supposed to find. There was a celebration for a scholarship his family was starting at NYU in a week. I reserved a free ticket and bookmarked the page. I typed one of the business addresses in my GPS, figuring it made sense to have a place to start looking when I got to New York. I looked at some hotels along the way to New York and made some reservations. With that settled, I decided I was leaving tonight. Everything was squared away with my parents' affairs, and I had more than enough money to travel cross country as some of the money had come through and I had a lot of money saved from my job. If I left now, I wouldn't have to try and convince Billy and Jake to let me go. I left them both separate letters, letting them know that I would miss them and that I was going to be careful but I had to leave to keep everyone safe. I was terrified but I knew that my parents wouldn't send me into a dangerous situation if they could help it. That meant staying put was the worst option.

I gathered all the stuff I had with me, shoved it in the passenger seat of my mom's car and took off, leaving Washington behind me. It was a two-day trip if I drove straight through, but since I was the only one driving, I broke it up into seven to nine-hour chunks at a time. It would take me almost a week this way, but I would be able to sleep, shower, and eat before getting back on the road. This was gonna be a long drive, but now I had unlimited amounts of time to think and process. The eight hours it took me to get to Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, was spent crying, screaming, and singing at the top of my lungs. Needless to say, I was exhausted when I fell into my hotel room bed.

I woke up with a start when my alarm clock went off, almost falling out of the small bed. I groaned and dragged my tired ass to the shower, and by the time I exited the bathroom and was dressed in clean clothes, I felt more human and alert. I also felt my spidey sense tingling. The thought made me smile; it was a joke between my dad and me. He'd always taught me to be aware of my surroundings and never be caught off guard. It was something that I never slacked on. Right now, the air felt weird—something was off. Looking to the far wall, I saw the curtains move and realized the sliding glass doors I had never touched were open. I grabbed my backpack and shoved everything from my room into it. I zipped it up, gripped my key, and silently crept toward the door. As someone's arm clutched the doorjamb, I slammed the door shut and ran down the hall, not even bothering with the elevator and jumped the last few steps on every level, saving precious seconds, and then I burst through the door into the lobby.

By the time I checked out and was back in my car, whoever had tried to get into my room hadn't made another appearance. When I scanned the cars in the parking lot, I didn't see any that looked conspicuous, so I tore out of there and didn't stop until I was an hour down the road and hungry. I got out at a McDonald's and checked everything on my person and in the car. I couldn't find anything that looked like it had been chipped. I had heard enough horror stories of people being tracked with Apple AirTags.

This all made no sense. Why was someone following me? I hadn't seen anything except the aftermath of my parents' attack. My parents were upstanding, law-abiding citizens, both respected in the community. They didn't have any enemies that I was aware of. The way they were brutally ripped from my life was shocking to say the least, and now to think that whoever may have done it was coming after me? I just couldn't wrap my head around it. But now wasn't the time to dwell on all the unanswered questions that were starting to mount. I needed to take action to make sure I was as protected as I could be. I took a deep breath and tried to think what my dad would do in the situation.

My dad taught me well but there was a sick irony in the fact that the one person I usually asked for help was dead and possibly the reason why I was in the situation. For someone to guess where I was going to be, they either had to know where I was coming from and where I was going. I made the painful decision to ditch my phone. I cracked the screen by stepping on it with my foot, crushing it into the asphalt. I would get a replacement when I got to NY, but for now, I got a pay as you go smartphone at a truck stop. I turned the location setting off and entered in the addresses I had memorized

My next stop after getting breakfast and then pulling into a gas station to refuel and get snacks was Billings, Montana. It was about six and a half hours away. When I got to my destination, I screwed around until it was late evening, hoping that if someone was trying to guess, they would think I hadn't shown. When I got checked in and got to my room, I shoved a towel underneath the door and made sure the lock on the window was engaged. I had gone to Home Depot and bought one of those window bars that made it so the window and sliding glass doors couldn't be opened from the outside. It was a little extreme, but I had no idea who the hell was after me, so I wasn't taking any chances.

"What the fuck were you and Dad into, Mom?" I asked. I knew I wouldn't get an answer, but it made me feel better. Less alone. I took a shower and ate the food I had picked up before coming to this hotel. I went to bed, just as exhausted as the night before.

The next few days on my trip were spent much the same. Drive, get a hotel, shower, sleep, get up, and go again. With my extra safety precautions, I didn't have an experience like that first night, but I felt like I was constantly being watched. I wondered if it was just paranoia or reality. Needless to say when I made it to New York, I breathed a sigh of relief. I found out really fast that having a car seemed like more of a hassle than a convenience as I made my way through endless traffic.

NYU was in Manhattan, and I decided going forward on foot was the best option. I parked in a large parking garage and headed toward Greenwich Village. It seemed like NYU was near Washington Square Park. Following the GPS on my phone, I found my way to the main building of the admin office. I jumped up and down a few times and shook my body and limbs, trying to dispel the nervous energy that had appeared since I really thought about what I was doing.

I realized I was making a spectacle of myself on a very public street, but to my surprise, no one was paying attention to me. People were rushing by me like I wasn't even there. Interesting. I guess in a city this big with millions of people, it was just easier to ignore it and move on. I rushed inside before I could chicken out. After lots of wandering around and asking for help, I found out the celebration had already started and was in one of the auditoriums upstairs. I tried to sneak in quietly. A man was standing on a makeshift stage, giving a speech. I realized it was Edward Sr. He was the same man from the Polaroid, obviously older, and his hair was starting to gray at the temples. The picture I had was taken twenty-six years prior. The man that I recognized as Edward Jr. was standing off to the side with a younger blond-haired girl and an older woman with the same platinum shade to it.

I tried to get closer to the stage without drawing attention to myself, but luck wasn't on my side. When Mr. Cullen looked up from his notes, his eyes scanned the crowd. When his gaze landed on me, he paled and looked next to me like he was expecting me to have people with me. He gasped. "Renee?"

I looked behind me to see if he was speaking to someone else. When I found no one, I turned to see the handsome Edward Jr. suddenly in front of me. The older blonde woman was finishing Mr. Cullen's speech, with him standing to the side, staring at me intensely. Edward Jr. was studying me with an unreadable expression on his face. "Who are you?" His tone was eerily calm.

"My name is Bella Swan. My mother, Renee Swan, told me to find Edward Cullen. I need to talk to him now." My voice was steady and calm even though I was terrified inside. I hoped that this wasn't a mistake.

Translation:

Goomah- The mistress of a Mafioso

A/N: So, she made it to New York but it was a trip for sure. Leave a review and let me know what you think. Until later lovelies.