Thank you for the amazing feedback. As always, I'm forever grateful for Frannie who makes my words readable.
It was midday when we pulled up in front of his house. Edward led me around the building through a door.
"This is the main entrance," he explained.
"I see."
"Are you afraid of rats?"
"Bats?" I cried out, hoping I had misheard him.
"Rats," he repeated slowly, his eyes somewhere behind me.
I glanced in the direction he was looking, and I refrained from screaming and jumping into his arms. I cleared my throat. "Just lead the way upstairs." I kept the large rodent in focus as we moved toward the shabby stairs.
Once we were safely upstairs, where the hallway leading to the kitchen was familiar, I spun around to face him. Edward was grinning, looking entertained.
"What," I muttered, holding myself from stomping my foot down.
"What made you think I had bats?" he chuckled.
I narrowed my eyes. "I don't know which one is worse – bats or rats."
"They're both useful in their own ways," he commented, walking down the hallway toward his bedroom. But he stopped before he reached the door and turned his phone's flashlight on, pointing it to a painting. "Here we go."
I stared at the abstract painting, unsure what I was seeing. At first glance, it seemed to show a man and a woman hugging, but then it got confusing. In conclusion, it wasn't any less bizarre than the painting in my office at the art gallery.
Edward took it from the wall and went into his bedroom. "Don't turn the light on, and don't open the curtains," he said in a warning voice.
He retrieved a small flashlight from his nightstand drawer and held it between his teeth as he placed the painting face down on the bed.
"I can help with this," I offered, prying the flashlight from his mouth.
"Thanks. I'm used to working on my own."
"Now you have me," I reminded him.
His eyes met mine briefly, and I saw how the news took him by surprise. I understood because I knew how lonely he'd been. He had to be self-efficient and practical in everything he did.
He turned his attention to the painting, but there was no fake backing on this one. He started to knock gently on the frame, then gasped, "Fuck." He snatched the flashlight from my hand and hurried back into the hallway.
I followed, curious about what had caused him to run away.
I found him inspecting the wall where the painting had been. I thought I saw tears in his eyes.
"What is it?" I whispered.
"Here," he answered in a rough voice.
I stared at the lit part of the wall. The wallpaper was ripped, and it looked like someone had taped it back in three tiny X-shaped figures to mark the spot. Edward pulled it off, then took a few steps back.
"Holy cow," I shouted. "Is that a door?"
Edward pulled all the wallpaper from the part of the wall, and indeed, it revealed a door.
"Stand back," he said gravely before shoving a foot into the door.
"Maybe trying the door handle would have been useful," I scolded.
He led the way inside. It looked like an old clothes closet built into the wall. It had shelves on a side and a rack with only one moth-eaten coat hanging from it. On the top shelf was a box, and Edward barely had to get on his tiptoes to get it.
This reminded me of how tall he was.
We returned to his bedroom. After propping the painting against the nightstand, we sat on the edge of the bed with the small box between us. It seemed to be a very old jewelry box, maybe a family heirloom.
"CC." I traced the engagement on the top.
"Carlisle Cullen," he mumbled, slowly opening the box.
There were some folded papers on the bottom, along with a cat-shaped brooch and a ring with a big emerald stone. Edward picked up the papers, unfolding them one by one.
"Shit. This is a letter – for me."
My dearest son,
When you read this, I may no longer be alive.
I placed this letter where I knew you'd look at the right time.
I'll start by making a confession. While reading this, you may already be aware of your parentage, but I know what it means to hear it directly from me. Your dad wanted a child for so long, and all our attempts were failures. After a set of tests, I was the one to get the results, which proved he would never be able to conceive. You might consider me a terrible wife and an even worse mother, but I did the only thing I could think of. I begged your uncle to help. He wasn't seeing Esme back then, and the only way he accepted was for me to actually sleep with him.
There are times I regret ever entertaining that thought, but then I look at you – my beautiful boy.
It was our secret until you got sick and Renee's father got assigned as your doctor. He'd always suspected something, and I swore him to secrecy. He offered to hide the real birth certificate in a safe place. Now you know how much I'd tried to get my hands on The Search from Within. Your real birth certificate is hidden inside.
Carlisle promised to protect you if anything happened to us.
As I'm writing this, I suspect we're being targeted. Just the other week, the brakes from your dad's car failed on his way home after long hours at the office.
Right now, all I can hope is that when you read this letter, you're happy, you're not mourning us, and that you can rebuild your relationship with your father – Carlisle.
On to the main reason I'm writing this.
Do not ever associate with the Volturi family. They are going to try and take over the city, but as long as Carlisle and Charlie Swan are alive, Aro won't dare make any move. If his family gains more power than they should, they'll have the whole city at their feet. If it happens, don't try to fight him. Run as far away from this city as possible.
The Volturi family has friends in places you can't ever imagine. They can't be stopped. They'll be a force of nature no one is going to be able to fight. Don't try to be the bigger man, son.
I can't think of you perishing at the hands of the mafia. I've been through too much in order to bring you to life and protect you to have a monster such as Aro put an end to all the great things you can achieve.
There might be another person you should be wary of. Right now, you're not getting along, but you're children. You'll grow up, and knowing her parents, Isabella Swan will turn into a pretty thing. Be cautious around her. I know for a fact her mother is Renee Higginbotham. Be very afraid of her.
Take care of yourself and know that we've loved you.
Mom
I read over Edward's shoulder, and when the letter fell from his hands, and he hunched over, I knew he was going to break down. I rubbed his back soothingly, at a loss of words.
"Clearly, she didn't know Carlisle. At all," he muttered in a rough voice.
"Was he always like this? I don't know…" I trailed off. "I remember when he was called after I broke your nose when we were in kindergarten."
Edward rubbed his hands over his face before he turned to me. His glassy eyes held sorrow, yet they were amused. "He was on the emergency list; now I understand why."
"What I'm trying to say is…he wasn't the bad guy. But I was five, so maybe I wasn't a good judge of character."
"You might be right. But all my memories about him are bitter. He was only ever kind when he was around Esme. But I see what you mean, and you might be right," he said thoughtfully. "He probably accepted whatever deal Volturi proposed to him once he'd killed his reason to exist."
"But no good person would ever accept something like that."
Edward took my hands, making me drop the flashlight, which now cast a long shadow on the wall. Edward's eyes were serious, and it felt like the air had been knocked out of my lungs.
"I understand…in theory…why he became a monster. If I ever lost you at my own hands…I'd lose my mind, too."
"Edward," I gasped, feeling choked up.
"But I'd be man enough to end my suffering by putting a bullet in my head rather than cause pain to others."
"Stop talking like that," I demanded. My hands started shaking, and I felt faint.
He hugged me tightly, crashing his mouth to mine. "You don't understand what you mean to me, Isabella."
The way he said my name sent shivers down my spine. He was the only person I didn't correct about calling me by my full name. I usually disliked being called Isabella and preferred Bella, but Edward was allowed to use it.
He lowered me sideways on the bed, still kissing me. One hand went to cup my breast under my shirt, and my hands went on their own accord to the zipper of his pants. He chuckled against my lips.
We undressed each other hurriedly before he pushed into my body. I grabbed at the pillow under my head, arching my back. No one had ever been able to evoke such strong emotions from me. Thankfully, I could be as loud as I liked in his house, unlike the previous night at my house when I had to restrain myself.
After we came undone and he collapsed on top of me, I ran my fingers through his hair, not minding his weight on me. What surprised me was hearing his breathing even. I kept combing his hair as I lay there as still as possible, afraid to somehow wake him. I felt tears prickling at my eyes, knowing how hard he pushed himself, what draconic discipline he'd imposed on his body, and how he'd become everything his poor mother had never wanted for him.
Her letter was so heartbreaking. She'd gone to incredible lengths to make her husband happy. Some might judge her and call her names, but I was certain I'd have done it too if I were in her place. I might not have slept with the other man, but knowing who she'd chosen as a sperm donor, the chances he'd decline a romp with a good-looking woman were slim.
I still held my ground about Dr. Cullen. He might have not been always a monster, but the bad seeds were always there. His late girlfriend might have attempted to redeem him, but his greed for power had ended her life. That should have been a wake-up call for him; instead, it had turned him even viler.
Edward jerked awake, gasping and looking around disorientated. He'd barely slept for fifteen minutes.
"Did I fall asleep?" he asked, confused, sitting up next to me.
"I didn't mind," I promised, reaching up a hand to cup his cheek. "Your body needs to rest."
He huffed, swinging his legs off the bed and padding to his closet. "I haven't fallen asleep like that in…" His phone ringing interrupted his lamenting. After stepping into a clean pair of boxers, Edward answered, pressing a finger to his lips. "Cullen." His free hand flew into his hair as he started pacing. "I'm aware. Well, if you'd bothered to put this meeting in my calendar, I'd have known. I can be there in twenty minutes."
He ended the call, hurrying to look through his suits.
"You have to be at the office?" I guessed.
"My assistant is so scatterbrained; I'm sure she'll forget her head at home one day. But this time it wasn't even her fault. Guess who is in my office demanding an impromptu meeting?"
"Your uncle?" I rolled out of bed and tugged at my clothes unenthusiastically.
"Volturi."
I gasped, my shaky fingers refusing to cooperate and clasp my bra. Edward came to my aid, hooking it correctly and kissing my shoulder.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you."
"Should I come with you?" I offered, unsure if it was the best idea.
"I'll drop you off home."
"At the gallery, please. I still have to finish preparing for the auction," I reminded him.
"Okay." He kissed my forehead. "And I promised to help you with names."
"Later."
During the car ride to the gallery, I felt something terrible was about to happen, but I shoved it away.
"I've decided to lay low for a while," Edward said at a red light.
"No more Vengeance?" I asked, shocked.
"After seeing the news this morning, there's no need to put fuel on the fire. Unless this meeting with Volturi reminds me why I want to get him in prison."
"You have to be careful," I demanded.
"You know I always am," he answered seriously. "I'll come over later." He parked in front of the gallery and took my hand, kissing the back. "Stop worrying, Kitty. He won't dare do anything in broad daylight in my own company."
I tried matching his faith, but something kept me from believing his meeting would end well. I memorized every detail about his face, the way his strong hand felt in mine. "I love you," I whispered, my eyes watering.
He grinned widely, leaning closer to kiss my mouth. "I love you more."
My heart squeezed as I left his car. I refused to look back and see him pulling away, but I heard the roar of his engine.
I took Angela to my office and got lost working on the long list of people invited to the auction and every detail about that evening. This event was usually nerve-racking, but now when I was more aware of who my buyers were, it made me double-check everything.
Angela was polite enough not to ask me anything about Edward, even though I caught her staring at me in wonder a few times.
In the late evening, I called Jake to pick me up. I was ready to get home and look over the crime board Edward had made on my wall and rearrange some things after what we'd learned today.
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