Story Title: Princess

Summary: Bella, reluctant daughter of mob boss Aro Volturi, was raised by outsiders until forced into mafia life at the tender age of fifteen. Seven years later, Aro wants her to marry into another family. A late night attack leads Bella into a dark situation—a night that will have far-reaching consequences. When the masks are removed, all bets are off. Angst/Romance

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.


Mafia princess.

Ice queen. Bitch. Rare beauty. Daddy's girl.

Off-limits.

Lonely. Apathetic. Bored. Protected.

This half-life wasn't easy. I hovered between conflicting planes of existence, and the stress was killing me. There were those at the top, there were the underlings paid to do the dirty work, and then there was me . . . trapped in purgatory.

My father, Aro Volturi, was the head of the Volturi crime family. I wasn't aware of this until I was fifteen, and the man I thought was my father died.

A few days after Charles Swan's funeral, a sleek black limo had pulled up in front of our weathered little house as I watched curiously from my bedroom window. The man who stepped out was over six feet tall with massive shoulders and a swarthy complexion. His eyes were two orbs of pitch, and when they were trained on you, defying him was the last thing on your mind. His presence alone instilled fear and commanded respect.

The clang of metal and crashing of glass reached my ears as my mom opened the front door. I scuttled over to the top of the steps to eavesdrop, spying the metal tray my mom had been carrying on one side of the foyer, the rest of the floor littered with shards of colored glass.

"It's time, Renee." His voice was as commanding as his presence, although it was soft—almost kind.

"No. She's only fifteen, Aro!"

"Renee, I agreed to this ridiculous farce to protect our child. Things calmed long ago, and the man we allowed to shape and influence her is dead. It's time for her to take her rightful place."

Our child? The man they allowed to . . . oh, hell no.

"Please, Aro. She doesn't even know! Her father just died!" Renee spat in a harsh whisper.

"I'm her father." His voice had turned as cold as ice, all gentleness gone. "You have until Friday, Renee. I'll leave Caius behind to . . . help you tie up your loose ends. You're welcome to come, too. But understand this: Isabella Marie comes with me on Friday."

Closing my eyes, I pushed the seven-year-old memories back. My mother now sat quite comfortably beside her mafioso husband, the underlings did their thing, and I was forever suspended somewhere in between.

Everyone was afraid of my father, and nobody would dare befriend his daughter—or lay a hand on her without his permission. I've been defying my father for the past three years. He's paraded a number of "suitors" before me, and I've turned my nose up at every one. If he expected me to marry one of those ghiottoni, he was crazier than I thought.

Angela Moretti was my only real friend—and that's because she was the daughter of my father's cousin, Marcus. Angela was a bit more accepting of the life because she'd been in it since birth, but she was a rebellious girl with a flair for getting in trouble. At nineteen, she was engaged to marry Lou D'Angelo, whose father was a made man. I kept teasing her about her name becoming Angela D'Angelo, but she would simply remind me that she intended to keep her maiden name (not likely to happen, but she could dream) and that I would probably die an ice queen spinster at the rate I was going (more likely).

The door to my bedroom flew open and Angela—speak of the devil—strode in. She was dressed in formfitting black from head to toe: tight top with a plunging neckline and no bra to rein in her huge tits, skintight jeans, and shiny black Louboutins that screamed "fling my legs over your shoulders and fuck me senseless."

"Bitch, let's go." She placed her hands on her hips and blew a huge pink bubble. Her lush lips were painted the rosy hue she only wore when on the prowl.

"Oh, fuck no." I sighed, slipping out of my four-inch high heels and flexing my toes. The air felt cool and soothing against my sore feet. "I just spent hours making nice at Nico's wedding."

"Um . . . I was there, too, remember? Fucking boring, and baby needs some excitement."

"What about Lou?"

"He's gone skiing with his fucking friends. I'm not getting married for another year, so I intend to have my fun while I can. You think Lou hasn't been boning that bitch Lauren at the day spa?"

"Eww! That blue-eyed ho-bag that throws herself at everyone?"

"That's the one. Get sexied up."

"My father—"

"Yeah, Uncle Aro and your mom are holed up in their suite. He won't even notice you're gone."

An hour later, we were speeding down the highway in Angela's Mustang—windows open and hair flying.

"Woo hoo!" Angela shrieked.

She passed me a blunt, and I took a strong hit. I had a feeling I was going to need it based on the mood she was in. After a few pulls, I started to relax.

We ended up in a dark, seedy dance club. The lighting was dim, the bodies packed tightly, and the music was kicking. After doing a line off Angela's mirror in the grungy ladies' room, I felt on top of the world. We made our way onto the dance floor, finding a small pocket of space to one side.

The music vibrated inside me like a living thing. Angela and I liked dancing together, circling one another, rubbing, touching. We had no sexual interest, but guys love that shit. Case in point: a hot one started moving in on us, obviously having eyes only for Angela.

After an hour or two, my mouth was dry, and I was sweating profusely. Angela headed off into a corner to cozy up with the hottie, and it didn't look like they needed a third wheel. I wandered down the hall leading to the bathroom and spied a red metal door propped open. Sticking my head out, I gulped in fresh, cold air then strolled down the alley to smoke a cigarette.

A loud metallic slam sounded, and I rushed back to the door. The dented metal had no handle and was now locked from the inside. Fuck me.

Now I'd have to find my way back to the front of the club. The stupid heels Angela made me wear weren't made for comfort, and I was cussing up a storm when four shadows morphed out of the alley in front of me.

"Well, looky here." The guy pulled a ski mask down over his face as he stepped into the scant light. "Fresh meat."

"Pretty, bejeweled fresh meat." Another guy in a ski mask joined the first. "Get a load of the stones on her."

"C'mon, guys. We're not here for her. Stay focused." A third voice came from the shadows.

"I'm going to check on the . . . status." The fourth guy stalked off down the alley.

The first two moved in closer, and I glanced back to assess my options. Naturally, the alley was a dead end, and the door to the club remained closed.

"Listen, boys . . . if you'll just move aside, I'll be on my way." I strode forward confidently; inside I was quaking.

The two looked at each other and laughed as they spread out across the narrow area between the brick wall and the dumpster.

"Guys, just let her go."

"No fucking way, man. Not only is she going to pay my rent for the next six months with her baubles, but I'm pretty horny come to think of it."

I reached in my handbag for my gun. Shit! I'd left it in Angela's car. I did, however, have pepper spray.

"Nice try, bitch!" Before I could pull out the pepper spray, he flung his arms around me and pushed me up against the wall. The knit ski mask rubbed against the side of my face, and I felt his moist breath hot on my ear. He reeked of beer, weed, and something sour. "You're a fighter, huh, baby? This is gonna be more fun than I thought."

"Hey! What the fuck's wrong with, you? Let her go." The guy I hadn't seen yet came from behind my attacker. He was much taller than the douche holding me, and I caught a flash of intense green eyes behind his ski mask.

"You want a piece of her? Wait until I'm through."

"That's not what we came for."

"Masen's men!" The fourth guy ran part way down the alley, gesturing wildly to his friends. "We gotta get the fuck outta here!"

Feet pounded down the alley going away from me, and I was let go rather abruptly by my attacker, landing on my ass.

"Stupid sons of bitches!" I muttered, rising to my feet. "Stupid fucking shoes!"

As I made my way past the dumpster on wobbly legs, I was yanked into a darkened doorway, and a hand slapped over my mouth.

"Shh . . ." Warm breath puffed against my ear, and I could feel his heart pounding against my back as he pulled us deeper into the dank, inky blackness.

The still air was stale and moldy. By the sudden sounds of scurrying feet scrabbling against concrete, I surmised that there was nobody here to save me. I started struggling, my focus on getting back to that doorway—the alley seemed far more palatable now.

"Stop it! Do you want to die here?" he whispered fiercely.

I shook my head but continued to struggle. He pulled us deeper inside, until his back hit a wall, and he slid us around the edge. My view of the door disappeared, the last bit of light along with it. I elbowed him in the gut, and he grunted in pain.

"Please stop." His pleading tone halted me mid-jab, and he took the opportunity to tighten his grip on me. "Trust me, you're safer in here. You don't want those men to find us." His breathing was ragged, and I could feel his heart thumping faster between my shoulder blades.

Shouts and pounding feet on the asphalt drifted into the building, ricocheting crazily off the walls. My captor stiffened around me, moving carefully along the wall until we reached a corner. His hand still covered my mouth, but not as firmly, and I shook my head, dislodging his hold.

"Let me go!"

"Shh . . . please. Do you know of the Masen family?"

Did I. They were Irish mobsters that my father was always in conflict with. They were like the Montagues and the Capulets.

"Yes."

"Well, those are his men out there."

"Fuck me," I whispered. If they came across me, there would be hell to pay. They might kill me, but more than likely, they'd use me as a bargaining chip with my father.

"Now shut your pretty, little mouth for me. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You're not?"

"No!" he said in a scathing tone, as if it were unreasonable to think a guy in a ski mask that dragged a girl into an abandoned building had ill intentions.

"Who are you?"

"Just be quiet, princess."

More shouts came from just outside the door, and I froze in place.

"Round them all up. No witnesses." The voice was deep and gravelly and such a shiver down my spine. I actually pressed back closer against the guy holding me and started to hyperventilate.

I knew voices like that. If they caught us here, we were both dead.

"Oh, please." I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

"Shh . . . he'll go away soon."

Now that I wasn't fighting him, he removed his hand from my mouth and kept both arms wrapped around me. I grabbed onto a well-defined forearm and held it tight. As I started to relax a little, I became more aware of him. He didn't smell like a typical dirtbag thug. I couldn't place the clean, spicy scent of his aftershave, but I knew it was expensive. About the same time, I felt something hard poking my lower back.

"D-do you have a gun?"

"No, princess." He chuckled softly, and whatever was pressing against me twitched.

"Ohmygod. You're turned on by this."

"Not by this . . . by you."

A warm hand slipped under my shirt to cup my tit. Shit! I knew I should've worn a bra.

"Oooh . . . nice," he cooed in my ear.

I started squirming and rubbed against the thick ridge of his erection. He moaned softly, his hand squeezing harder, and he pinched my nipple between his fingers, rolling and tugging it slowly, sending a lingering jolt between my legs. Traitorous body!

"Get your hands off me!"

"Are you sure that's what you want?" His warm lips grazed my ear, sending a shiver through me. Grabbing my hip with the hand that wasn't caressing my tit, he rolled his pelvis against my ass, and I felt just how big and hard his cock was.

"Check along the alley! Make sure nobody's left." That horrifying voice came from out in the alley again, and goosebumps erupted on my arms.

"I've got you, princess. We just have to lay low until they're gone."

"And then what?"

"Then we walk out of here and go our separate ways." He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck, his breath warm and moist on my tingling skin. "Unless you want something more."

"Something more . . . like some perv mauling me in an abandoned building? Let me see . . . no fucking thanks!" I struggled harder to escape his hold, angry at the way my body betrayed me at every turn.

He loosened his arms, and removed his hand from under my shirt. Relief flooded through me until he spun me around to face him, our chests crushed together. Warm fingertips grazed my skin as his hand slid under my hair and he anchored an arm around my waist. "Take it easy. Don't make any fucking noise, or they're going to find us."

Now his hard-on pressed against my stomach. I tilted my head up, straining to see his eyes in the dark, needing to know if he was toying with me, planning to hurt me, or maybe feeling the same strange, erotic pull to me that I did to him. A wall of blackness greeted me; I may as well have been wearing a blindfold.

"Come on, you pussies! How do these tikes manage to dodge you? Knew I shouldn't have taken a night off. I want their balls on a platter! Do you hear me?"

The grating sound of that voice was one I'd never forget. A memory flirted at the edges of my mind, a night that man was talking to Aro. I never saw him, only heard his voice, but it was forever tattooed on my soul.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Aro's voice boomed across the back room of Volturi's, a high-priced strip club. He had to pretend to have legitimate businesses, and all his men loved beautiful women. So did his enemies. Many a deal was done over drinks and lap dances.

I was eighteen at the time and loved to defy him in any way possible. I wasn't supposed to be at the club—ever—but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? Pauly knew I skulked around the back rooms. He had a soft spot for me and finally threw his hands up, warning that I would be completely on my own if I were caught. On this particular night, I was curled up under the desk in the spare office, writing in my journal, when the impromptu meeting convened.

"He was getting too close, Aro. I might ask what the fuck you were thinking by allowing an incorruptible cop to get so far into his investigation."

"He wasn't going to get anywhere! I had it under control."

"Like you had Swan under control? You're going soft, Aro."

My heart pounded in my chest. Swan? My father?

"Soft? I'll fucking show you soft!" Chair legs scraped across the floor, and a gun was cocked. "Get the fuck out of my club."

"That was a mistake, my friend." The man's voice was cold and unfeeling. Dead.

"You're nobody's friend. Just a leech that sucks the life out of others."

"Whatever, but if it wasn't for me . . . you probably still wouldn't have your daughter living under your roof. You need to learn how to be grateful, or things could be ripped away from you."

"Are you threatening me? Get out now. Before I put another hole in your fucking head."

My body stiffened involuntarily, and I pressed closer to my captor. That man . . . I was fairly certain he'd killed my father. My stomach filled with bitter bile, and rage flared inside me like an inferno. I wanted to kill the bastard more than anything, but I couldn't do that when my gun was in Angela's fucking car and when there were who knew how many others around.

"What's wrong?" he whispered against my hair.

Goosebumps erupted over my skin, my arms and legs prickling with it. Bella, you are so fucked up getting turned on by this thug. But he wasn't a thug. There were certain incongruities: expensive aftershave, the way he spoke, his disgust when the other guys were messing with me, taking the chance of hiding me away with him when he could have left me behind. I didn't know what his deal was, but he was no dirtbag. You know, there are different levels of dirtbags, genius. You're just making excuses because you feel something, and you're ashamed of it.

"Wh-Who is that man?" I whispered.

"Someone who's going to kill us if he finds us. Shh . . . if ever you were quiet, now would be the time."

A shiver went up my spine, and a jolt shot down my body, anchoring itself between my legs. How could I be scared, disgusted, and horny all at the same time?

"Please." I wasn't even sure what I was asking him for, but my plea caused his dick to twitch against me.

"You're killing me, princess." His voice was hoarse and breathless.

He spun me away from him, and pulled my back against his chest. Warm lips sampled the skin on my neck, and I didn't play coy—I leaned my head to the side, giving him better access.

"Baby, is this turning you on?" He ground his pelvis into me, digging his well-endowed cock against my lower back. He crooned into my ear. "What do you need? How can I take away your anxiety?"

Unable to answer, I leaned back against him, no longer trying to escape. It was answer enough for him. My skirt was lifted smoothly over my hips. One of his arms formed an iron bar across my chest, and the other slid ever-so-slowly inside my lacy thong to probe against my sex.

"This is what you want, huh, baby? You're so tight . . . just relax for me. Oh yes, that's my girl."

My body went limp against his, and I allowed him to press his long, calloused fingers inside me. He developed a slow rhythm before adding the pad of his thumb to circle my clit. A low moan bubbled up my throat, and I rocked my hips against his hand without shame.

Sounds continued in the distance—yells, catcalls, running feet, the loud clang of metal—all the while, deep in the recesses of the all-consuming dark, I consented to this strange contradiction of a man and the tantalizing play of his fingers.

"Shh . . . quiet now."

Something was building up inside me, hot and needy and wanton. I turned my face to the side so his lips slid across my cheek. I moaned softly, my breath hitching as I felt an orgasm coming on.

He leaned his head forward and captured my lips with his own. I was so turned on, so close to release, that I didn't think. I opened my mouth, allowing his tongue to slip between my lips. It was all-consuming and hot, almost tender.

"Mmm . . ." I hummed against his lips, breathless as I felt the euphoria building.

He pulled back from this kiss and whispered, "Come for me, princess." Then he deepened the kiss, his tongue doing to my mouth what his fingers did to my pussy.

I cried out into his mouth as a powerful wave of ecstasy blew through me, taking all my strength with it. My legs buckled, and he bent his knees, tightening his arm around my chest to support me while I rode out my orgasm.

He broke away from the kiss and pressed his lips against my ear. "Beautiful," he whispered.

The sounds of the men hunting us had died down, but we stood in the dark for a while longer, listening.

He slipped his hand from between my legs and turned me around, his lips finding mine again. Those long fingers found their way into my hair as he plundered my mouth.

His dick twitched against my stomach, and I was prepared to return the favor. After all, he kept me safe, brought me pleasure, and he was an expert kisser. I skimmed my fingers over the front of his jeans, feeling how big and hard he was. I started to unbuckle his belt, but he grabbed my hand.

"No, princess."

"But you're so . . . don't you want me to?"

"Fuck, yes, I want you! You have no idea, but I can't afford to lose control here, now. If it was any other time, believe me . . . you'd be underneath me."

This turned me on even more. "What now?"

I heard a click, and a penlight lit up the room. It hurt my eyes, and I squinted against the light until I adjusted. The warehouse we were in was filthy, damp, and dusty. Some abandoned tables, chairs, and other equipment were strewn haphazardly on one side.

Taking my hand, he led me deeper into the maze of rooms that eventually spilled into a wide hallway. "This way." We headed for the double doors at the end of the hall, and he opened one of them slowly, peeking out. Signaling it was safe, he pulled me outside into another alley.

Up ahead, I could see streetlights, cars, and people. When we were almost to the street, he stopped short, and I ran into his back. He turned around and held both of my arms, walking me back into the brick wall. Intense green eyes gazed down at me from within the ski mask. He glanced down at my lips and slowly brought his mouth down on mine. He was giving me a chance to reject him, but I couldn't. I wanted his hands on me, his lips. He kissed me deeply, with the same intensity as when we were hiding out.

"Thank you, princess."

"For what?"

"Trusting me. I'm sorry we met under such horrible circumstances. Would it be too weird if I asked for your number?"

"How about you give me yours?"

"I can't do that."

"Oh, fuck it." I gave him my number. "Can I at least get your name?"

He hesitated. "Tony."

"Do you have a last name, Tony?"

"Let's stick with Tony for now."

"Okay, and I'm—"

"Tony" pressed a finger to my lips. "Shh . . . don't tell me your name—not yet."

"Okay, Princess it is."

What a weird fucking night.

oOo

A bang jolted me out of my sleep. Raised voices floated up from downstairs. My father was home, and he was yelling loud enough to cause skid marks in the shorts of most men. I rolled my eyes, hoping Hurricane Aro didn't turn my way.

"Where the fuck is she, Renee? Does she ever get up before noon?"

So much for that vain hope.

My bedroom door flew open. Aro marched in, his face a mottled red from all the bellowing, and ripped the comforter off my bed.

"Isabella!" When he saw the skimpy outfit I was sleeping in, he tossed a robe at me and bellowed again. "Isabella! For fuck's sake, what are you wearing?"

I pulled the silky robe up to my chin and offered my best innocent look. "Daddy, you're going to have a stroke."

Aro glared at me. The black-olive hue of his eyes frightened most people, and sometimes I was afraid of him too. He did have a soft spot for me—at least as much as he had for anyone. I thought it was guilt for the way he'd ripped me away from the only life I knew, right after the man I'd thought was my father had died.

Aro huffed and looked away. He sat on the side of my bed, and his voice softened. "Isabella Marie, you push me to my limits." He patted my hand, then swiped a large palm over his face. "Listen, I know you don't understand this life. Maybe I made a mistake allowing you to be raised on the outside. Angela gets it. She's marrying Lou, like a good girl."

"Dad, why are you in my bedroom talking to me about this?" I rolled my eyes internally because Aro wasn't beyond backhanding me if I disrespected him and because he was acting weird—a mix of wanting to grab me by the back of my neck and tell me how it was versus an attempt to win me over to his point of view. Something was going on for sure.

"Izzie Marie . . ."

Uh oh. He used his pet name for me, never a good sign.

"Listen, the party tonight is critical to the family. There are some important people I want you to meet."

"Me?" My voice squeaked.

"The heads of most of the families will be there and some of their sons. Unmarried sons." He leveled me with a look that conveyed what he wasn't saying.

He wanted to marry me off.

I shook my head. "Dad . . ."

"Don't get upset. Nothing is set in stone."

"Wait, what?" My eyes widened. Saying nothing was set in stone meant it was partially set in something! Panic welled up in my chest, and my heart started pounding.

"Daddy . . ." I whined, but his jaw was set.

"I want you to meet some people, and I expect you to act in accordance with who you are. Be a proper lady, and help me entertain these very important people. Capisci?" His eyes hardened. He wasn't asking.

I knew when to push Aro and when to give in. "Yes, Daddy. Tell me what you expect me to do."

Aro waved his hand in the air. "Have Angela coach you. She knows how this works."

I swallowed hard. "S-sure."

"That's my girl!" He nodded, much happier. "It's a masquerade party. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to have masked people at a mob gathering is beyond me, but whatever." Aro leaned in and kissed my forehead, then got up and left.

For some crazy reason the kiss of death went through my head. I laughed alone in my room, a hysterical edge to the sound. One of these days, I wouldn't be able to put Aro off. There was a division between the families, and marrying into another family solidified the ties, creating a stronger alliance.

Angela showed up ten minutes later, almost as if it were pre-planned. As usual, she strode into my room without knocking, as if she owned the place. "Hey, Chica!"

I pouted, crossing my arms.

Angela stood next to my bed, hands on hips. "Come on, girl! We are going to a masquerade party. We get to look delish and mysterious." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Then why do I feel like I'm going to the gallows?"

oOo

Aro's sleak, black limo pulled up in front of Narnia's, a multi-level venue that hosted elite events and wasn't owned by any of the families. The food and service were superb, and top-notch security was provided. My father brought some of his own people, of course, and the other families would as well, but this was considered neutral territory.

Felix opened the door, offering a hand to assist me and then Angela from the car. "Ladies, enjoy the evening."

"Thanks, Felix."

Felix was my father's oldest, most trusted friend. He was gargantuan, with wide shoulders and solid muscle, which made him perfect for his role as bodyguard. Aro didn't go anywhere without him. Felix wasn't a man of many words. Some people mistakenly took this to mean he was dumb, but I knew better. Felix had intelligent eyes. He was much more than a human shield for Aro; he was also a friend and advisor. This wasn't well known outside of our family as it would be considered an exploitable weakness.

Narnia security vetted everyone upon arrival, going so far as to pass a metal detector wand over each guest. Guns, knives, and weapons of any kind were prohibited.

Aro had a small arsenal stored in a compartment in the floor of the limo. He wanted to be ready at all times.

I stood shivering next to Angela in the cool night air as a security guard scanned us and asked for our invitations. Aro climbed from the limo and glared at the guy. "Aro Volturi. What more do you need in the way of an invitation?"

The guard was a big man, well armed, and wore an earpiece. He repeated the name, listened for a moment, then nodded. "My apologies, Mr. Volturi—I'm new here. You're all set."

Aro grumbled something under his breath, then offered a hand to assist Renee out of the limo. My father cut an imposing figure in a perfectly tailored black tux. Renee was dressed in a royal blue and silver gown, her hair and makeup done to perfection. My mother was the perfect mafia wife. Her mothering skills, on the other hand, left much to be desired.

Angela's dress was a deep plum with a plunging neckline. The flowing material skimmed over her curves, the skirt puddling around her feet. Her mask was an ornate plum and gold.

Renee had picked my outfit, maybe because she knew I would never choose to showcase my body. I had to admit, the deep scarlet dress hugged me in all the right places, and the halter-style gown showed off my cleavage without leaving the girls hanging out. Gold and pearl beading formed an intricate pattern on the bodice, and my mask echoed the design perfectly. The pièce de résistance was the back of the dress, which left me bare all the way down to the V that ended just above my ass. My skirt flowed to the floor, similar to Angela's, but had a slit down the front right side from mid-thigh to ankle. At least my shoes would peek out every so often. I've always wondered why so much was spent on a pair of shoes that would be hidden most of the time.

Once we were through security, we donned our masks and entered the vestibule. Lou D'Angelo hovered inside, his fingers fiddling nervously with the mask he was holding. He was tall and solid, the kind of man who deterred unwelcome attention. He was handsome with dark eyes and gelled black hair that suited him but probably took a long time to sculpt. When he saw Angela, he came over to us.

"Hey, Bella." He leaned in to kiss Angela. "Hey, baby." She turned her face so his lips landed on her cheek. Behind the mask, her eyes were blazing.

Angela smiled sweetly. Not a good sign.

Lou didn't seem to get the message and tried again. "Hey, can I get a proper kiss from my woman?"

Angela put a hand between them, so his kiss landed in her palm. "You want to kiss me with that mouth? Fuck. No. I heard Lauren has crabs."

"Who's Lauren?" Lou's voice rose half an octave.

Angela laughed—the laugh she does when she's about to string someone up. "Bella, he's asking who Lauren is. Isn't that cute?" She raised her hand to pat his cheek. From a distance, it looked like a gesture of affection, but I was close enough to hear the stinging slap. All the while, her smile never faltered as she leaned in closer. "Listen to me carefully. If I know who you're boning, then so do others. You will not be welcome in my bed while you are making a fool of me and sticking your dick in any available open hole. Got it?"

Lou swallowed hard, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "Yeah, got it."

Angela raised her voice so she could be overheard. "See you at dinner, honey! We're going to dance."

Have I mentioned Angela's my fucking hero?

The Capital Room was bedecked with elegant tables surrounding the dance floor. The low lighting was a mix of mysterious blues and purples that glinted off the beading on the masks and gowns.

We located our table and left our handbags there before heading for the dance floor, which was filling up quickly. The DJ played a great mix of songs, and the mood was lively. Angela and I danced together but kept it PG because we weren't in a dance club, and our actions reflected on our fathers.

When the song we were dancing to faded out, the DJ stepped up to the mike. "Can I have your attention please, ladies and gentleman? Narnia welcomes you to the Masquerade Mingle. Please return to your designated tables for dinner. Afterward, you are encouraged to mingle and get to know others. As always, Narnia's offers a safe space for networking. I'm DJ Magix, keeping it real."

Angela and I grabbed our handbags and headed for the ladies room. Wearing a mask while dancing was hot business. I pulled off the mask and fixed my makeup, spritzing on a generous layer of setting spray. I fanned my face until my skin was dry, then put the mask back in place.

"Can I borrow that spray, Chica?" Angela held her hand out, knowing I'd share with her.

My father and Uncle Marcus seemed pleased when we got back to the table. Aro had his hand on Renee's thigh, massaging absently, but he turned his face away and abruptly entered into a deep conversation with Uncle Marcus. Something felt off about my father. Outwardly, he seemed to be having a good time, but there was a tension to his large frame that only one who knew him well would notice. Uncle Marcus had a wary look deep in his eyes and glanced around often.

I leaned in to Angela and whispered, "What's up with them?"

She shrugged. "Who the fuck knows? It's always something. I've given up worrying about all the drama."

The elegant form of Angela's mother came into view. Sophia Moretti was encased in a formfitting cream gown with gold beading. Her mask was cream and gold with a spray of feathers on one side. Her full, sensual lips curved into a smile as she greeted everyone she passed. Her bearing was regal; she was probably royalty in another life. Before taking her seat, she leaned down between me and Angela, kissing our cheeks in turn.

"How are my favorite girls?" Sophia's voice was husky, with a slight Italian accent.

Every eye was on her as she leaned in to Marcus, interrupting his conversation with Aro, and guided his mouth to hers. She kissed him deeply, her gloved hand snaking around to caress the back of his neck.

Marcus was a good looking man. He was soft-spoken but high enough in my father's organization that everyone knew not to fuck with him. Sometimes those who seemed softest dealt the hardest blows.

Even with her mask on, I could see the glint of envy in Renee's eyes as she watched Sophia and Marcus.

Rumor had it Aro had fancied Sophia back in the day, a fact that never failed to rile up Renee whenever it was mentioned. Once, I heard my parents arguing in their bedroom. Renee kept accusing Aro of wanting Sophia, suggesting there might have been an affair.

He'd stopped her cold. "Enough of this nonsense! If Sophia would've had me, I'd be married to her. But so help me, I don't do disloyalty, Renee. Remember that." There was a sharp warning in my father's words.

Whereas Marcus's power was subtle, Aro was enveloped in his. One had only to look into his eyes or sense the violence vibrating around him to know it was a bad idea to fuck with him. There were rarely second chances with Aro; you were either loyal or you weren't.

Felix and Paulie sat on the other side of my mother. Their eyes were always watchful. I could tell how uncomfortable Felix was without his weapon. His hand kept straying to his side, fingers questing for the holster that usually rested there. Paulie caught my eye and winked at me from across the table. He was getting old, not able to be as physical, but his mind was sharp, and Aro respected his opinions. I smiled back and blew him a kiss. Paulie was my favorite.

After dinner, DJ Magix came back to the mike. "Hey, everyone! Hope you're enjoying the night. It's tiiiiime to mingle! Please enjoy the lighter side of magic."

Slow dance music played, and the floor filled up with masked couples. Lou presented Angela a convincing set of puppy dog eyes, and she reluctantly placed her gloved hand in his. "This doesn't mean you're forgiven, buddy!"

Aro smiled, watching the festivities. I saw him nod to someone, then look at me. "Isabella Marie, I'd like to introduce you to someone." He leaned closer, a glittering warning in his dark eyes. "Don't embarrass me. Be nice, maybe a dance."

I swallowed hard. "Okay, Dad." I knew this day was coming and couldn't put it off forever.

Aro stood up. "Art, good to see you! And is this Santiago?"

A tall, thin man with silver hair and a benign-appearing maskless face shook hands with Aro. "The pleasure is mine, my friend." He gestured to one side, indicating the man standing beside him. "My son, this is the Aro Volturi."

Arthur's son was about the same height as him, but that's where the resemblance ended. Santiago had broad shoulders, muscular arms, and jet black hair. Most of his face was covered by a mask, but I could see he had a square jaw and a nice smile.

Santiago leaned in to shake Aro's hand. "Sir, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"You as well. This lovely lady is my daughter, Isabella Marie."

Arthur and Santiago turned their attention to me. I blushed, stammering out a greeting.

Santiago was closer to me, and he took my hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. "Lovely doesn't do you justice, Isabella Marie. Would you like to dance?"

I smiled. "I'd love to." I wanted to get away from the table, and he seemed nice enough.

He took my hand and placed it on top of his arm, leading me toward the crowded dance floor. "Isabella Marie is a mouthful. Is that what you prefer to be called?"

I laughed. "No, I prefer Bella."

"Much more suited to such a beautiful lady. And please call me Santo."

"Thank you for the compliment, Santo."

"I speak only the truth."

We found a pocket of space, and Santo pulled me close but not embarrassingly so. He led me expertly, and our dance felt effortless.

He bent his head toward mine. "You know our families have plans?"

I nodded. "I'm getting that idea."

"Do you have anyone in your life?"

"No. You?"

Santo sighed. "I did, but it could never be. Sometimes life is like that."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's part of this life." Santo tightened his arm around my waist, spinning us and lowering me into a dip. His dark eyes glittered behind his mask as his generous mouth hovered close to mine. "You're very beautiful, Bella. I think we might make a great match."

My heart sped up. "Oh . . . I . . ."

Santo brought me back up, touching his large palm to my cheek. "You look so frightened! You don't need to decide here and now. Let me take you out. We need to get to know each other."

I let out a relieved laugh. "I'd like that."

He held me close, and I placed my cheek against his chest. He seemed like a nice guy. I could tell even with the mask, he was quite handsome, and I felt safe in his arms.

We were on our second dance when the DJ cut in. "Okay, everyone, it's time to mingle! Switch dance partners."

We ignored the DJ and danced to a few more songs until the DJ stopped again. "And mingle!"

Santo was about to continue our dance, but another masked man stood beside us, offering his hand.

Santo smiled and kissed me on the cheek. "It's been a pleasure. I'll call you."

I smiled shyly. "I look forward to it."

Nervously, I took the offered hand. My new partner was very tall with broad shoulders, but he was leaner than Santo. His perfectly tailored tux fit him like a glove.

He led me to a clearer spot toward the back of the dance floor and tugged me close, wrapping both arms around me. I rested my hands on his shoulders and tilted my head up to get a look at him: strong jaw, sensual lips, and brownish, slicked-back hair.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi."

He led the dance silently, but his attention was on me the entire time. My heart was beating faster, adrenaline edging into my bloodstream. There was no reason to be nervous—this wasn't the match my father wanted to encourage. I thought the adrenaline might be a delayed reaction to Santo and the mention of what our families had planned.

Another song started, a sensual Sade tune. My partner didn't keep his distance like Santo had but pulled me closer to his sculpted body as we swayed to the music. My breaths were shallow, my heart racing.

He put a finger under my chin to lift my face and lowered his head, placing his lips against my ear. "Are you okay, princess?"

My breath caught in my throat. That voice. That nickname. I looked up at him, straining to see his eyes behind the mask. Green.

"H-how did you find me?"

"Trade secret."

My thoughts went to where we were—in a banquet hall filled with mafia families. "Do you have any idea where you are right now?"

"A party." His lips quirked into a half-smile.

"I'm serious, Tony."

"You remember my name. I'm flattered." He lowered his mouth close to my ear again. "Everyone is masked. I don't see the problem."

"There are dangerous people here."

"I can be dangerous." His velvety voice sent a jolt of desire through me, and my breath quickened.

"You don't understand."

"Are you worried about me?" He turned us, tightening his hold. "Meet me in the mezzanine, and you can make me understand."

He let go of me suddenly, and disappeared into the crowd, like a specter. I stood alone on the dance floor, wondering if I'd imagined him. Palpitations fluttered in my chest, and I glanced around, wondering if I should meet him in the mezzanine or mind my own business.

My head said I should forget about him and get back to the party, but my racing heart and the pulsing between my legs said otherwise.

Angela sidled up to me, placing an arm around my shoulders. "Who's the hunk?"

"What?"

"That guy you were dancing with!"

"Santo?"

Angela turned me to face her. "Chica, you are so bad at keeping secrets. I'm talking about the one after Santiago Lanzo—the tall drink of water with that jaw and those lips . . . yum."

"His name is Tony."

"Tony who?"

"He's not part of this." I swirled my finger around. "He crashed the event somehow."

Angela laughed. "Brave fucker. But you know his name, so . . . what am I missing here?"

"I'm not getting into that right now, but I'll tell you later."

"Swear."

"Pinky promise. Can you cover for me for a few minutes?" I lowered my voice to a whisper. "I'm supposed to meet him in the mezzanine."

"Who's your girl? Don't worry about a thing. Be careful though. If you get caught here with an outsider . . ."

"I'm just going to tell him to get out of here, and I'll be right back."

The amused disbelief in Angela's eyes told me what I already knew—it wasn't likely I would be back that soon.

As I wove through the crowd, I was thankful everyone was masked, which made it easier to slip away. I remembered how to reach the mezzanine level from memories of parties when I was a teenager. A group of us would sneak up the stairs to smoke and play Truth or Dare or Spin the Bottle. It was a huge chink in Narnia's security plan.

I wandered up to the familiar door, noticing a thick folded square of paper wedged at the bottom to keep it from closing all the way. I opened the door, kicked the makeshift doorstop out of the way, and shut the door behind me. The sounds of the party were dampened, and my ears rang. I waited a few minutes for my eyes to adjust. The glow coming from above me allowed just enough light to climb the stairs by—not an easy task in stilettos and a long gown.

When I reached the top, I glanced around. The dim light coming from sconces affixed to the walls offered a murky view of the room. More light came from the bank of windows overlooking the Capital Room. From experience, I knew the windows were tinted, so the partygoers below wouldn't be able to see anyone looking down from above.

"Tony?" I whispered.

There was no reply. I wasn't about to go searching through all the rooms for him, so I wandered over to the windows overlooking the party. I had a great view of the room from here. I saw my father deep in conversation with Arthur Lanzo; my mother seemed bored; Marcus and Sophia were kissing like a couple of newlyweds. Angela was dancing with Santo, and they seemed to be having an intense exchange. I wondered what was going on there and vowed to grill Angela later. I scanned the other side of the room. The table opposite ours held the Masen family. Edward Masen Sr. was my father's oldest enemy. Most of the conflicts in Aro's organization were related to the Masens. Apparently there was a long-standing hatred between the two of them, and that's why my father was trying to bring multiple families together under his wing.

Edward Masen Sr. sat staring out at the party, his expression watchful and calculating. He was a few pounds overweight, but I could tell he'd been killer handsome in his day. Thinning black hair was slicked back from his broad forehead. Beside him was Elizabeth Masen, a real beauty. She had long waves of caramel hair, alabaster skin, and piercing eyes. Her beauty and poise presented stiff competition for Sophia Moretti. Sophia won due to the aura of sexiness she exuded, whereas Elizabeth, though very beautiful, was aloof. Masen's men surrounded the couple at the table. A teenage girl sat on the other side of Elizabeth, her dark head down as if looking at her phone, and there was one empty seat.

"There you are." Tony's soft voice came from behind me, and a warm finger traced lightly down my spine. He stopped before reaching my ass. Part of me was disappointed. "You look beautiful."

Sweeping my long hair aside, he pressed forward, trapping me against the railing that ran along the windows. Warm lips pressed against the back of my neck, and I shivered, closing my eyes. Delicious prickles awakened along my nerve endings, and I drew in a breath. His fingers ghosted over my back, one hand coming to rest on my hip.

Just as suddenly as he touched me, he stepped back, removing his hands and lips from my skin. My grip on the railing tightened, and I clenched my teeth.

"It wasn't just that night, was it?"

"What?"

"You're affected by me," he whispered, his breath hot on the back of my neck. "It wasn't just the situation."

I continued to face forward. "And what about you? Are you affected?" I was pretty sure of the answer because he was here.

"Very. You are ballsy and beautiful and fascinating." His fingers skimmed up my bare arms, coming to rest on my shoulders, kneading gently. "I've thought about you a lot. I had to find you, to see what this energy between us means."

A tingling heat was building inside me, and I fought not to react. "And what do you think it means?"

He ghosted his hands down my naked back and slid them around to hug my waist. He placed a kiss behind my ear, his lips hovering close. "I'm not sure exactly what it means, but I'm not willing to walk away without knowing."

I was relieved to hear him say so. All my dreams and fantasies the past few days revolved around him—his touch, his sensual lips, and the way he'd played my body like a fiddle, coaxing me to orgasm while Masen's men were searching for us. I wondered what it would be like to take his cock deep inside me.

I turned to gaze up into his intense green eyes. My mouth went dry, and all I could manage was to stare. He grabbed my hands in his and pressed them against his chest. His heart pounded beneath my palm. No matter how outwardly calm he seemed, his heartbeat gave him away.

"Can I kiss you?" He rubbed a finger across my lower lip, his eyes following its path.

"Please." My fingers tightened on the lapels of his tux, pulling him closer. I tilted my head back, and waited for his lips.

He gazed down at me for a moment, then cupped my face, his thumbs brushing my jaw.

When his lips met mine, it was with a gentle but insistent pressure. Our mouths fit together perfectly, and I wanted more. I let go of his tux and slid my arms around his waist, pressing my body against his.

With a soft moan, he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue against the seam of my lips until I opened for him. He took command of the kiss, exploring my mouth hungrily. I melted against him, losing myself, and ignored the voice in the back of my mind asking what I thought was going to come of this, what could come of this? My father had other plans for me.

He slid one hand into my hair, the fingers of his other burning a trail along my bare spine.

He pulled back. "I need to see you."

My heart quickened, and I nodded, ready to do anything he wanted.

He reached for me and carefully removed my mask. He was in shadow, so I couldn't see his eyes clearly, but his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He explored my face so gently with questing fingers, learning my features.

"I knew you were beautiful the first time I saw you, but my memory didn't do you justice. You're exquisite, princess."

"I want to see you too." I reached for his mask, but he grabbed my hands.

"Not yet. I'm not ready for you to know who I am."

"Are you famous?" I teased. "Perhaps a wanted man?"

He shook his head. "You have no idea."

"You're scaring me, Tony."

He grasped my hands, squeezing them gently. "I don't mean to, and I want to tell you everything. Soon, I'll text you, and we can meet somewhere—just the two of us."

I knew it wasn't a good idea to continue this, but my head and heart were at war.

He let go of my hands and stepped back. "It's okay. This is too much for you. First I kidnap you, then I show up here."

Part of me agreed with him. What in the world did I think I was doing getting involved with a guy who held me hostage? Don't forget the part about his hot kisses and magic fingers. A larger part of me craved more of him, wanting to explore the white-hot attraction between us.

Tony turned and started walking away.

"Wait!" I followed him, looking up into his eyes. "I need to know what this is too. I've been thinking about you, replaying that night in my mind."

"You have?" His voice is low and hoarse.

I snaked my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his. Strong arms surrounded me, pulling us close. I could feel the bulge of his arousal against my stomach.

He pushed his tongue into my mouth, kissing me with abandon. He turned us, pushing my gown up my thighs as he lifted me on top of a table. I wrapped my legs around him, our lips meeting over and over. His hand crept up my thigh, one finger sliding over my silk thong.

"Mm, you're so wet, princess. Is that all for me?" he whispered against my lips, sending a jolt straight to my throbbing clit.

"Yes. Please . . ."

"Please what? Tell me what you need."

"I want your cock buried inside me." I nipped the side of his neck, sucking hard on the skin, knowing it would leave a mark.

He hesitated. "Are you sure about this, princess? I'd love to lick your pussy."

"I'm sure." I was on birth control, so pregnancy wasn't a concern. I should have been worried about STDs, but I couldn't bring myself to give a shit.

"Think I have a condom."

While he was digging in his wallet, I unzipped his pants and slid my hands inside to free him. My fingers wrapped around his cock, and I rubbed over the head with my thumb.

Tony hissed, jerking his hips forward. He ripped the foil packet with his teeth, and we worked together to roll the condom on.

He pressed forward, leaning over me, one arm supporting my waist. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." Just fuck me already!

He easily tore the flimsy fabric of my thong and pressed the head of his cock against my aching entrance, sliding it back and forth. Lining himself up, he pushed into me inch by incredible inch. I moaned against his mouth.

"You're so tight." He hissed.

Once he was fully sheathed inside me, he pulled out slowly, then slammed back inside, setting a delicious rhythm. I cried out, and held onto his shoulders as he speared into me over and over. He licked and nipped a tingling path up the side of my neck, murmuring against my skin. I allowed my head to tip back, angling my pelvis to take his cock deeper, a soft whimper escaping as he hit all the right places.

I held onto him for all I was worth, allowing the sensations to coil tightly inside and build. Tendrils of liquid desire swirled chaotically, drawing me ever closer to the edge of bliss. And then I was flying, ripped from conscious thought as I was taken higher and higher, our bodies melding into one being. For a crazy moment, I forgot where I was, forgot who I was, and just hung onto him, riding out the best orgasm I'd ever had.

"Jesus, princess!" His entire body stiffened as he let go and cried out against the side of my neck.

We stayed that way for a while, our bodies joined, breathing harsh. His lips found mine, his kiss tender.

He swept damp strands of my hair out of my eyes. "That was—it was mind-blowing."

Pulling out of me, he redid his pants and stepped in close, helping me sit up fully.

Fear rocketed through me. What the hell did I just do? I gave myself over to a stranger. I hadn't even seen his face yet.

"Hey." He caressed my face, putting a finger under my chin. "I can see the wheels turning in that beautiful head of yours. Don't overthink this."

I grasped his wrists and held fast while he swept his thumb across my cheek. "How can I not? This is—it's just crazy! I've never done anything like this in my life!"

He smiled then, placing a kiss on my forehead. Scooping me up in his arms, he walked us over to a couch and sat down with me across his lap. "You've really never done something like this before?"

"Never! I'm far from innocent, but this is just . . . I don't know what to call it."

His strong arms squeezed tighter and he nuzzled his lips under my ear. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. I've never done this before either—or anything like what happened that night in the warehouse." He touched my cheek, turning my face toward his and looking earnestly into my eyes. "I want you to know this means something to me, that you mean something to me."

I smiled, a thrill flaring in my chest. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and we cuddled in silence until there was a vibration in his pocket.

"Shit." He dug his phone out. "Fuck. I have to go." He helped me off his lap, making sure I was steady on my feet before getting up.

I straightened out my gown and ran shaking fingers through my disheveled hair. I didn't know what to say. Would I ever see him again?

Tony pulled me into his embrace and kissed the top of my head. "Please tell me this isn't it for us, princess. I need to see you again."

I smiled against his chest, relief flooding my body. "I want to see you again too."

Tilting my face up to his, he kissed me long and slow. "I owe you an unmasking. I promise to tell you everything."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Tony—if that's even your real name."

He smirked. "It's not my given name, but it is my nickname." He squeezed me so tight I could barely draw breath, then let go, linking our fingers. "I have to go, but I'll be in touch soon, my princess."

I smiled like a lovesick fool and watched him melt into the darkness. I got myself under control, and fumbled my way to the mezzanine restroom. The automatic light turned on, blinding me. Once my eyes adjusted, I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't look like I'd just been fucked by a masked stranger. My cheeks were flushed, my hair slightly out of place. Aro and Renee wouldn't notice anything amiss. Angela, on the other hand, was waiting to interrogate me.

Leaving the bathroom, I found my mask on the table and looked around for my thong, but it was nowhere to be found. It was ripped anyway, and nobody would know whose it was. Let the maintenance crew wonder about the good time that was had.

I made my way carefully down the dark stairwell. Throwing my shoulders back and standing tall, I opened the door and rejoined the party. Angela intercepted me when I was halfway back to our table.

"Hey, Chica!" She looped her arm through mine. "You totally fucked mystery man, didn't you?"

I laughed. "Totally."

She squealed. "So exciting! How was it, girl?"

The smile died on my lips, and I turned to look at her. "It was . . ."

Angela tilted her head. "What? He didn't hurt you or have some weird kink, did he?"

"No. It was mind blowing. I've never felt anything like that before, not with anyone."

"Wow."

"He said he felt it too. I mean, it sounds cliché, but the Earth moved."

The music paused, and we were interrupted by the DJ. "Hey, DJ Magix here. Hope you're enjoying your evening, everyone! Coffee and dessert will be served momentarily. In the meantime, someone has requested to make a brief announcement."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd as Angela and I reached our seats.

Edward Masen Sr. made his way up to the DJ booth and took the mic.

Aro clenched a fist, banging it against his thigh. "Self righteous son of a bitch. He takes every opportunity."

"Good evening, everyone. I have an announcement to make. My son has returned from his travels and education abroad and will be taking his rightful place by my side to learn the family business. Very soon, his word will be as good as mine. I hope you will make his transition an easy one. Edward Anthony Masen Junior, stand up and say hello!" Masen pointed at his table to polite applause and lots of strange looks.

I looked over and noticed the empty seat from earlier was now occupied, but there were people blocking my view. I shrugged. It didn't matter anyway; my father hated Edward Masen and would never consider marrying me off to his son.

Angela grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "Oh my God. You are not going to believe this."

I followed her gaze back to the Masen's table, where Edward Sr.'s son was rising fluidly to his feet. Tall, broad shoulders, tapered waist. He lifted the mask away from his face to nod and wave. His gaze roved the room until his eyes met mine, and he froze.

Green eyes. Sensual, kiss-swollen lips. A hickey on the side of his neck.

"No-no-no-no-no."

"Sweet baby Jesus," Angela muttered, squeezing my hand.

Aro glared at Tony—who was also Edward Jr.—with smoldering hatred in his dark eyes. "More god damn trash to take out."

Men from various families made their way to the Masen table to welcome the son into the fold, to show respect and acceptance.

"Bella, I'm sorry." Angela, the perfect mafia daughter, looked horrified. She knew how bad this was.

Bile rose up in my throat, and I lurched to my feet, grabbing my purse and running for the bathroom. The line was long, and there were too many people everywhere, some of them trying to talk to me. I continued past the bathroom and raced to a security guard.

"Excuse me, sir. I don't feel well and really need some air. Where can I go?"

"Follow this hallway all the way down, make a right, and there's an exit to the back deck."

"Thank you!"

I glanced back and saw Tony looking around frantically. People kept going up to him, and he'd smile, shake hands, and continue moving through the room. I knew he was looking for me. I turned and rushed down the hall as fast as my stilettos would carry me. When I pushed through the door, the deck was almost empty. It overlooked beautifully manicured gardens with benches and gazebos leading down to the lake.

I slipped my shoes off and took the stairs barefoot. Once I reached the smooth stone pathway at the bottom, I ran all the way to the end and collapsed on a bench in a gazebo overlooking the lake. The night was cool and still. The full moon hung low in the sky, the soft light glittering like diamond dust across the rippling water. It should have been a romantic scene, but instead I felt crushed and violated.

Tears streaked my face, and sobs bubbled up from deep inside. I'd just slept with the son of my father's sworn enemy. What are the chances Tony didn't know who I was? Was he trying to get to Aro through me? Crossing my arms over my middle, I rocked back and forth. I felt helpless and used. Could I have imagined the attraction between us? He seemed so earnest, and he wasn't pushing for sex—or was that all part of an act to get past my defenses?

My phone vibrated. I pulled it out of my purse and looked through my notifications.

Angela: Are you okay?

Angela: Uncle Aro wants to know where you are.

Angela: I told him you had cramps. That made him stop asking questions!

Unknown: We need to talk, princess. Where are you?

Unknown: Please give me a chance to explain.

Unknown: Princess?

My tears flowed faster, and the pain of disappointment and loss roared inside me like an angry lion. More texts came through, begging me to hear him out. I blocked his number, then I texted Angela to let her know where I was.

Angela met me at the gazebo, a bottle of bubbly dangling from her grip. She popped the top off, and we took turns taking swigs of the champagne. She put her arm around me, and I rested my head on her shoulder. There was no need for words. Angela was my bestie, and she completely understood the position I was in.

"Princess." Tony's hoarse voice came from the darkness beside the gazebo.

If Angela hadn't looked toward the sound, I would've thought it was my imagination. She stood up, holding her palm out. "Stay right where you are, dirtbag! Just turn your disloyal ass right around and get lost."

If I weren't so upset, I would have laughed at the sight. Angela with her palm out, head tilted. But I was upset, and he was standing a few yards away.

"I need to explain myself." He walked out of the shadows and stood at the bottom of the gazebo steps, craning his neck in an attempt to see around Angela. "Please, princess."

"Don't call me that!" I shrieked, more tears spilling down my cheeks.

"I-I don't know what else to call you."

"How about pawn? I'm just a pawn in your family game, right?"

"No!" Tony tried to step around Angela, but she used both hands to stop his progress.

"Nope. You need to turn around, buddy!" Angela's voice was low and angry.

My chest clenched painfully. Part of me wanted to run into his arms. Another part of me wanted to gouge his eyes out. If Aro found out about this, he would skin me alive, and yet my heart wasn't wise enough to harden against him completely. I clutched at my chest, trying to stem the pain.

"You don't understand! I need to—"

"Is there a problem here, ladies?" A new voice broke in, and Santo walked smoothly past Tony and placed himself in front of Angela, effectively blocking Tony from getting to the gazebo.

"This miscreant is harassing Bella. I was just telling him to leave, but he doesn't seem to be getting the message."

Santo was almost as tall as Tony but stockier and wider in the shoulders. He stood toe to toe with Tony, speaking to me without taking his eyes off him. "Bella, do you want to talk to this guy?"

"No. I want him to go!"

"You heard the lady. This doesn't have to get ugly, man—but I'm up for it." Santo's voice was cold and hard, nothing like the gentle, funny guy from earlier.

Tony backed up a few feet, holding his hands out. "I don't want any trouble."

"Good." Santo stepped around Angela and held his hand out to me. "Bella, can I give you a lift home?"

I took his offered hand, and stood up. "Oh, my shoes."

"No worries." Santo scooped me in his arms, "Moretti, can you get her shoes?"

Angela grabbed my shoes, following Santo as he walked down the gazebo stairs. I tucked my head against his chest so I wouldn't have to look at Tony.

"I'm going to take these ladies home. You should reconsider your position, Masen. You've been back a few weeks, and already you're starting shit."

"I'm sorry, prin—I mean, Bella." Tony's voice was soft and laden with remorse.

Angela answered for me. "Thanks for apologizing. Now, fuck off!"

Santo carried me on the path that wound along the lake, and I was thankful we weren't heading back toward Narnia's. I was so fucked up, I'd never be able to pretend that nothing was wrong.

"Can you get the car keys from my right pocket? I'm parked in the middle of the lot on the left. Bring the car to the back of the lot, so we can get Bella out of here quickly."

"Yeah, sure!" Angela grabbed the keys and hurried up the trail.

As we turned off the lake path toward the back of the parking lot, I glanced back. Tony was still standing in front of the gazebo, watching us. When our eyes met, he reached a hand out to me, his eyes pleading. I pressed my face into Santo's chest, trying to shut out the sight of him.

"It's okay, Bella. We're going to get you out of here." Santo's voice was sure and comforting.

I clung to the strength of his arms cradling me, to his decision to intervene without asking questions. Santo was my hero tonight.

So why couldn't I stop seeing the shock in Tony's eyes when he saw me across the room or the pain on his handsome face as he watched me being carried away from him in the arms of another man?

To be continued…