Thanks to Fyrebyrd, Gabby1017, 2brown-eyes, and The Metro Dad for pre-reading this one, and to my beta, SunflowerFran. I procrastinated getting this to her, and she worked her magic at the last minute, so I am forever grateful. Please remember, all mistakes are mine.
Bella
She meets Edward's eyes. "When I came home, I was pregnant with you."
Her words hang in the air, the implication too much to process. I'm so overcome with shock, I stumble my way to a chair and sit. Edward's brow furrows, his mouth opening and closing, the same shock I'm feeling crystal clear in his eyes.
"That's why he treated you so differently, Edward, so ... indifferently." Her voice lowers to a whisper. "You weren't his."
My husband gets to his feet and begins pacing the room, his hands pulling at his hair in frustration. He's yet to speak, and the confusion and anger he's feeling plays out on his face clear as day.
"When I came home," Esme continues, "we decided to just let the past stay in the past. A few years went by, and after Emmett came along, when he was little more than a toddler, I started to get suspicious that he was still seeing her. This was at the same time Renee ..." She starts to cry again, and I can't look at her. So many lies, so much deception. If things were different, my mother might still be alive.
"Who? If Carlisle Cullen wasn't my father, who is?" he asks through gritted teeth. He's holding onto his control by a thread. I want so badly to go and comfort him, but with so much anger and confusion raging inside of him, he looks like a caged animal, ready to lash out.
Esme's gaze falls to her empty hands, her fingers anxiously twisting in her lap. "I'm not sure now is—"
"Tell me!" he shouts, causing his mother to cower in her seat.
Her eyes meet his, and regret and sadness shine in them. "We just happened to cross paths. He wasn't—"
"Ma, please, just tell me. Who is my father?" His pained, desperate plea makes my heart ache.
"Marcus Voltolini," she whispers.
Edward squeezes his eyes closed as his hand goes to his head, grasping at hair that isn't yet long enough to hold onto. "And Carlisle ... Did he know?"
"Yes." Esme once again hangs her head, unable to watch her son.
"Marcus? Did he know? About me? Does he know he has another son?" He sounds insecure, uncertain; more like a boy than the strong, fierce man I love.
"No," she says, her voice still low.
"What about Emmett?" Edward's voice is gravelly.
"He's your ..." She clears her throat. "He's Carlisle's. When he was born, we tried to pretend, go on as if nothing had happened ... but nothing was ever really the same after that. Carlisle even questioned your brother's paternity. He put all his focus into Jasper, molding him into what he thought a strong leader should be. He pushed him, made decisions for him that would strengthen his ties, politically as well as in business. Even his push for Jasper to link us to the Brandons was a calculated move on your fa— on Carlisle's part. Then, when your bro—" She shakes her head. "When Jasper started with the drugs, making bad decisions, he decided instead to groom you to take his place ... even if you weren't his biological son."
"But all this, taking over for him, running his business, by birthright it should be Emmett's, shouldn't it?"
"No," she says with a shake of her head as she looks into his eyes. "He and I were the only ones to ever know you weren't his biological son. For him to pass over you, to hand it all to Emmett ... well, that would be admitting to the world you weren't his, that his wife slept with another man. He wouldn't risk losing the respect of his business associates if they were to find out his wife gave birth to another man's son and he let her live. It was bad enough his oldest was an embarrassment to the family."
Edward nods, processing all he's been told as he steps to my side. Reaching out his hand to me, he helps me to my feet. As we step toward the door, Esme calls out to her son.
"Edward, please stay and talk to me. There's so much we should—"
"No, Ma. I think I've had about all I can take for one day," he says as he turns back to her.
"I'm so sorry. I wish—"
"I know, Ma. Me too."
We didn't speak on the way home, and he sequestered himself in his penthouse apartment for what felt like days, when in reality it was only hours. Kaitlin was so confused about what was happening; her daddy barely giving her a second look when we arrived home before he took off to the other apartment. I explained to her that he needed some space and time to deal with his father dying. It wasn't a complete lie. He did need time and space, but he had new demons to fight; the death of the man he thought was his father wasn't necessarily one of them.
"Will he be back to tuck me in?" Kaitlin asks as I pull her covers up and over her.
"I don't know, K. He's still upstairs."
"Are you sure I can't sleep in your bed again? Please?"
Her persistence makes me smile. "No, baby girl. I think tonight Daddy and I need our space. We're just down the hall if you need us, okay?"
"Okay." She closes her eyes as I kiss her forehead.
"Goodnight, Kaitlin."
"Night, Mommy."
I step from her room and close her door, resting my head against the wall.
"She okay?" Edward's voice startles me, and I turn to face him.
"Yeah, she'll be fine. Asked about sleeping with us again, but I told her no."
He steps closer, bringing me into his arms. "Good," he says as he dips his head down to kiss me. His lips leave mine and find their way to my neck and up to my ear before whispering, "I haven't had my wife for far too long."
His lips go back to my neck, and I'm putty in his hands as they roam my body. I know we should talk, that this is his way of putting off dealing with things, but his touch, his mouth on my skin feels too good, and my protests die before they reach my lips. I'm soon swept off my feet, quite literally, as he carries me to our bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine. We haven't made love for weeks, since the night before he left for Italy from our brief honeymoon.
Falling into the softness of our bed, he surrounds me. I'm still wearing my clothes from the funeral, and he makes quick work of my zipper before stripping me of my dress. I'm left in my bra, panties, and thigh-high, garterless stockings, which are surprisingly still in place. His finger traces the lace edged top.
"Do you have any idea how feckin' sexy you look in these?" His words are almost growled as he buries his face in my neck, attacking me there with his lips and tongue.
"You're not too bad yourself," I say with panted breath. The way he looks in a suit has always done funny things to me.
No words are spoken as we strip each other bare, one piece of clothing at a time. Hands and lips explore places we've already visited, but have been neglected for far too long. When his tongue licks a trail down my body, I momentarily freeze, my self-confidence waning because of how much my body has changed since we were together last. He must sense my hesitation, read my mind, because he tries to soothe my worries.
"I've never seen you more beautiful, álainn. Carrying my child ..." He stops to place a kiss on my belly. "The whole fucking world can see how much I love you." His hands roam over my skin. "You're so, so beautiful ... and all fuckin' mine," he says with a sexy grin.
With his eyes burning into mine until they disappear behind my protruding abdomen, he completes his descent, and his lips trail lower. His hands seek out my breasts as his muscled arms pin down my legs, and he begins his slow, pleasurable torture. His tongue finds my clit, drawing it between his lips as his thumbs brush over my overly sensitive nipples.
The sensation is overwhelming, all-encompassing, and my hands seek out purchase, gripping the sheets. My back arches off the bed as the pleasure builds, causing me to call out, to beg for more. Our time apart has left me wanting, needy, and I can feel my orgasm building far too quickly.
One of his hands leaves my breast, and his fingers trail down my body. The feather-light touch of his fingers finds me wet and ready as he traces my entrance before gently sliding into me, seeking out places only he has ever found. His mouth and fingers work together, the movement in sync with his other hand still on my breast. As the thumb of one hand circles my hardened peak, the fingers of the other move within me as his tongue circles my clit. Pleasure crashes over me in a tidal wave, unrelenting, causing me to shatter into a million tiny pieces as I call out his name.
He holds me, surrounds me, as I slowly drift back to earth. But before the bliss coursing through my body completely ebbs, he's sitting up and pulling me to him. His cock enters me quickly but gently, as his hands grip my hips, the movement between us under his control. My ass leaves the bed and my legs wrap around him as he rises to his knees. His thrusts are powerful but gentle, and I can feel his love for me in every push and pull.
"Goddamn, I missed this." His eyes are focused on me, his gaze intense. It feels as though he's looking into my soul. With his hands grasping my hips, he guides me, leads us, and we soon fall into a steady rhythm. In and out, I feel each and every inch of him as he moves within me.
Once again and all too soon, the pleasure begins to build, and my eyes fall closed. We're both lost to the sensations, our breathing heavy and our movements faltering. We both fall over the edge together, calling out as we come. My gasp of his name is drowned out by his deep, reverberating groan echoing off the walls. I feel his cock pulse as he fills me, his hands still gripping my hips, pulling me tightly to him.
Breathless, he leans over me to kiss me deeply before pulling out and collapsing beside me. He gathers me into his arms and kisses the side of my head, his lips trailing down my neck to nuzzle me there.
"It's been too long, baby. I promise I'll last a little longer next time."
"Hmmm." I smile, unable to speak, only hum in response.
"I love you álainn."
"Love you, too," I mumble. Squirming to get closer to him, I hold his arm tight around me as he once again kisses my neck. I know we still have things to talk about, things to discuss and decide, but for now, I'm safe and content in the arms of my love.
"Mommy, where did you put my box of princess dresses?" Kaitlin calls from her bedroom.
I sigh and shake my head as I tape closed yet another box. "They're already packed, K. You don't need them anyway," I yell down the hallway.
When Edward finally decided to talk to me about everything we learned last month, after Carlisle's funeral, he was able to make some kind of peace with the events of the past. One of those things was his need to make a fresh start. With the baby coming in just a few months, he said it was a time for new beginnings. And I couldn't have agreed more.
He still hasn't spoken to his mother, though. He says he feels like everyone in his life has betrayed him in some way, save Kaitlin and me. And while Emmett and his family have done nothing to hurt or deceive him, he has tried to keep a little distance as he processes everything. It's been difficult, but Emmet said he understood.
When Edward told his brother what secrets were exposed that night after he left his mother's house, it was understandably a shock. Finding out he was the only one of the three Cullen brothers to share DNA with both Carlisle and Esme was not what he was expecting. He also adamantly refused to have a more active role in their business dealings when Edward offered to step aside. Emmett later told his brother being his right-hand man was better suited for him. Being the one to call the shots was never something he wanted.
Edward hasn't confronted Marcus yet. He feels that after the baby is born, and after we've settled into the new house, he'll have a better hold on his emotions and he'll be able to go to him with a level head. Thankfully, business has been quiet these last few weeks, so he's been able to focus on our family. Most of what has come up has been handled by Emmett, and what can't be doesn't keep Edward away from home for very long. Regardless, getting us ready for the upcoming move has been hectic, to say the least.
The contractor Edward hired to deconstruct the hidden stairwell finished just a few days ago, and only this morning did I finish cleaning the last of the sawdust and drywall dust off every surface in the apartment. Our focus has switched to packing, so we're ready for the movers who are set to arrive in two days.
Kaitlin's bare feet slap against the tile of the kitchen floor as she rounds the corner, stomping her way toward me.
"Did you at least mark the box? I don't want to have to go through every, single box to find them," she says with exasperation.
"Hey, what's with the attitude?" I ask as I finish writing kitchen on the side of the box I just packed.
"Sorry," she says contritely as she hangs her head.
"But if you must know, yes, the box is marked. So you won't have any problems finding it when we unpack."
"Thank you," she says as she steps to my side and hugs me the best she can with her brother or sister in the way.
"I love you." She squeezes me gently.
"I love you, too. Now, go—"
An abrupt knock at the door interrupts us, and Kaitlin and I exchange looks of confusion. Edward wouldn't knock, and any other guests would have to be buzzed into the building. We never get unexpected visitors.
"Who is—"
"I don't know. Let's go check the security monitor, huh?" I lead my daughter by the hand toward Edward's small office where we keep the monitor for the security system. The office is strictly for personal use, his work never coming home with him. He's been using the one at the pub for his other business since dismantling the penthouse weeks ago.
I press the button to flip between all the cameras positioned in and around the apartment until I find the one covering the door. The grainy black and white image of a large group of men, all wearing official uniforms with badges on display, makes my heart sink.
"Go call your father from your bedroom, okay?" I ask Kaitlin as I turn to leave the room.
"Is everything okay, Mommy? Are we in trouble?" She rushes to my side, wrapping her arms around me.
"No sweetie," I say as I cradle her head in my arms and kiss the top of her head. "They just want to look around and probably ask me a few questions. There's nothing to be afraid of." I cradle her cheeks and look into her eyes. "But if I have to leave to talk to them, I want to make sure you're safe, and someone is here to take care of you, okay?"
"Okay." With another kiss to reassure her, I send her toward her bedroom, and shuffle toward the front door. I don't remember being this large at six months with Kaitlin, but this baby is already giving me a waddling gait.
Opening the door, I'm met with a few familiar faces. Banner, Newton, and several men and women I used to work with all stare back at me.
"Isabella Cullen, we have a warrant to search the premises," Banner announces as Newton thrusts a piece of paper before me. People file past me and into my home in a blur as I rip it from his hand.
"Now you wait a minute!" I say distractedly as I scan the pages of the document. "You can't just storm in here and tear apart my home."
"Well, that says we can," Newton says with a sneer as he points to the warrant.
Reading it quickly, I see they have approval to search the entire apartment and confiscate any and all computers, hard drives, and memory sticks. I've never been more thankful for my husband's foresight than I am at this moment. Anything that ever held any confidential information has never been kept here.
When I look up from the page, Kaitlin's head is popped out from behind the corner leading to the hallway, her frightened eyes wide.
"Come here," I say with open arms. She rushes to my side, and I lead her to the sofa where she plops down as I slowly lower myself to the cushions. After huffing a breath, I pull her to me, needing to hold her close. Otherwise, I'm not sure how calm I'll stay.
"I called Daddy," she whispers.
"Thank you." I kiss her forehead.
"He said he'd be here in ten minutes."
I glance at my watch and shake my head. I know full well it takes any normal, ordinary person nearly twenty to get here from the pub at this time of day. But then again, Edward is anything but ordinary.
"Can we get a box cutter in here," someone yells from down the hall.
My head falls back against the sofa I groan, thinking about how much work it's going to take to repack everything after they've rummaged through it.
"Stay here, okay?" I ask Kaitlin as I turn my head to face her.
"Okay."
I struggle to my feet and head down the hall toward the bedrooms to see how badly the officers are tearing up my home. When I reach our room, I'm met with the sight of someone I didn't expect to see here.
Jacob Black is standing in front of my empty closet, his hands on his hips as he studies the freshly constructed wall.
"Since when do they send ATF guys to serve search warrants for the OC division?" I ask as I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the doorframe.
He spins to face me, a look of irritation on his face. "Since the Cullen family has been in our sights for years. Wanna tell me why this wall smells funny?" He thumbs over his shoulder at the wall in question.
"What are you talking about? What smells funny?"
"If I didn't know better I'd say it's fresh cut wood and paint, but why would I find that in a closet of all places?"
I shrug. "Moving can get a little crazy, and we damaged the wall when we were packing up the closet. The contractor said it needed new drywall on that side, so he replaced it." My calm is irritating him, I can tell, and his eyes narrow on me.
"You know," he starts, "I just saw you a few months ago, and you said nothing about your fiancé being a Cullen." He spats our last name as if it tastes bad as it crosses his tongue.
"You didn't ask."
"And you didn't think it was important at the time? Considering we were there to bust the guy that night." It's his turn to cross his arms across his chest.
"It wasn't my tip, and I had no direct involvement in the case."
"Yeah, well, that remains to be seen."
His expression changes; morphs from irritated to exasperated. "What happened to you, Bella? I thought you were one of the good ones."
"I still am." Again, I shrug. "I fell in love. Last time I checked, there's no crime against that."
"Fell in love with a criminal," he scoffs.
"My husband has never been charged with a crime," I say adamantly.
"He's just never been caught. Did you have something to do with that? Were you feeding him information the entire time you were on the force, Swan?"
My eyes narrow on the man who was once a friend. "I spent years working to put real criminals behind bars, Black. And Edward is a law-abiding business owner." Jacob scoffs at that. "Besides, I never had a hand in collecting any evidence they tried to gather against him. I never interfered with any investigations. The only crime I might be guilty of is falling in love with a man you all seem hell-bent on arresting. And my last name is Cullen, don't forget that."
Banner chooses that moment to speak from behind me. "Which is why we'll need to take you down to the station to answer a few questions." He looks over my shoulder to Jacob. "You find anything in here?"
Jacob glances over his shoulder, toward the suspicious wall, before turning to meet my eyes, and I can see the struggle there. He looks to Banner. "Nah, there's nothing here."
"We'd like to ask you a few questions down at the station, Isabella."
"I think I'd rather wait for my husband and lawyer." My voice wavers as tiny sparks of fear begin to tingle up my spine.
When Newton moves to place the handcuffs on me, I start to panic. "What are you doing? Is that really necessary?" I ask, the sparks of fear making my heart beat so fast it feels as if it's about to pound out of my chest.
"Well, they weren't, not until you decided to resist." His tone is smug, and I have to swallow down a scream of frustration.
"I'm not resisting! I'll go willingly," I plead. "There's really no reason for that, please," I beg as the sound of the cuffs locking in place rings in my ears.
"You know the rules, Swan." Banner's mocking tone makes my blood boil. "If a suspect doesn't come willingly, they get the cuffs."
"You and I both know that's bullshit. And it's Cullen," I say angrily.
"Oh, I'm well aware of that."
The commotion coming from the front room tells me my husband just walked through the door, and I can only hope he keeps his cool. But, judging by the shouting coming from him, I'd say he's already lost it.
Newton frog-marches me clumsily down the hall toward an irate Edward, Banner proudly flanking him.
"I don't give a fuck if you have a warrant, you son of a bitch," my husband screams at the officer trying to speak to him. "You're not taking my pregnant wife anywhere!"
My eyes scan the room, and I find Kaitlin's, wide and afraid, taking in the scene playing out before her.
"Mommy?" Her worried cry carries over the heated conversation in the room, silencing my husband.
"It's okay, baby. You stay with Daddy, and I'll be back before you know it." I try to sound confident, but the traitor tears welling in my eyes only upset her more.
She begins to cry, which moves Edward to pick her up and cradle her small body to his chest, her face buried in his neck.
"Shh, Princess," he says as he strokes her back. "We're gonna get this all cleared up in no time, and we'll have her back before dinner, you'll see." He kisses the top of her head in an effort to calm her.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Cullen." Newton's smug voice comes from behind me, but I ignore him.
"It'll be okay, Kaitlin. Just stay with Daddy and you guys keep each other company while I'm gone, okay?" I try to keep the tremors out of my voice, but the tears I was able to keep at bay up until this moment spill out and onto my cheeks.
"Come on, Mrs. Cullen. We've got a few things to talk about." Newton roughly pulls at my arm as he leads me toward the door, making me yelp in surprise and pain.
"Hey! Watch it!" Edward yells. "Do you have her handcuffed?" he asks incredulously as he steps closer, getting into Newton's face. "If anything happens to her, I swear to Christ ..." He looks down into the eyes of his daughter, maybe rethinking what he really wants to say, before turning back to Newton. "If anything happens to her, you'll wish you'd never knocked on my door. When it gets out that you like to manhandle pregnant women, you think you'll still have a job? And we both know there's no reason for the cuffs. I'll have your badge you son of a bitch."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever," he scoffs.
I'm out the door and ushered onto the elevator before I hear Edward shout over the din of voices surrounding me. "I'll call Jenks, baby. They can't hold you without charges. Just don't say anything, Bella. I love you," he finally yells as the elevator doors begin to close.
"I love you too." My voice is cut off by the doors closing in my face, and I suddenly find myself surrounded by men I used to work alongside of. The atmosphere is tense as we travel down to ground level, and my heart is already aching to be with my family. The problem is, I feel like my troubles have only begun.
In the handful of years I worked for the BPD, I was never part of a questioning. I was the one pushing paper, or as part of a raid or arrest, so it's a shock to the system to find myself on the 'other' side of the table.
If the situation weren't so serious, I'd laugh. We've been locked in a staredown for the last ten minutes. Banner is beyond frustrated with me because I've not said more than a few words since I was led to the interrogation room. And while his partner isn't exactly amused, he's not nearly as irritated as his boss.
When I walked into the room, I was a little surprised to see the officer who had been called to Banner's office for a reprimand months ago, after the failed raid at the docks. When I'd showed Edward his picture on our flight to the island, he'd had no idea who the man was at the time. His guess was he was on the take for the Voltolini family, considering the tip about him came from Caius. Today he was introduced as Marcello.
They've taken turns grilling me, asking questions I ignore. I watch the clock as the minutes pass, waiting for our lawyer to arrive, all while trying to ignore my son or daughter pushing against my bladder. They apparently don't have any solid evidence to charge me with a crime, only enough to investigate me for police misconduct, so they've resorted to trying to trick me into confessing to something.
"You know, Bella," my old boss says with a sigh as he rubs at his eyes. "This would be a lot easier if you just admitted you tampered with evidence."
"And why would I admit to something I haven't done?" I finally say, frustrated with how long it's taking Edward to get Jenks here.
"Because you and I both know we'll eventually find something, and we'll be more lenient with you if you cooperate. You know ..." He pauses. "If you were to give us some new information on that husband of yours, I'm sure we could work out a deal." His look is pointed, and I stare right back, laughing.
"There is nothing to find because I didn't do anything!" I say my eyes wide and my arms open.
The door finally bursts open, Jenks striding in, putting an end to their questioning.
"Mrs. Cullen, I have to advise you to not say another word," he says as he places his briefcase on the table. He then turns to the two men seated across from me. "Are you charging her with anything?"
With a scowl, Banner shakes his head. "No, not yet. But that doesn't mean—"
"Then, if you're not charging my client, you can't hold her. And you can be sure there will be an investigation into why my client was cuffed in the first place."
Banner sighs as the men exchange a look. They both get to their feet, and my old boss stomps out of the room. "You're free to go, Mrs. Cullen," Marcello says. "We'll be in touch."
Jenks helps me as I struggle to stand from the uncomfortable, metal chair and leads me to the door. But before I reach it, Marcello gently grasps my arm, halting my steps.
"Marcus says hello and not to worry. Everything will be taken care of," he whispers into my ear before turning and walking from the room.
I'm still in a state of confusion over what he said as I'm led through the halls and out to the common areas of the police station. My worried husband is waiting for me, his brother by his side. I waddle as fast as I can and practically fall into his arms.
"You okay, álainn?" he asks as he holds me tightly and kisses the top of my head as it rests on his chest.
I meet Marcello's gaze from across the room, and he nods before walking away. Something tells me my troubles with the BPD will soon disappear. I'm holding onto hope that whatever good exists inside Marcus Voltolini will prove to be in my favor. Perhaps this is, in some way, a gesture of goodwill toward his great-niece, to protect her mother.
I look up into the eyes of my husband, my best friend, my lover, and smile. He's the man who's been by my side through all my struggles, my trials. He's been my ever-loyal protector from our very beginning.
"I'll be fine, just as soon as you take me home."
A/N: One more to go for this one, an epilogue of sorts, and it'll be done! I wonder if this is the last we'll hear from these two ...? ;)
I've been an epic fail on replying to reviews lately. And with kids on spring break, I'm not sure if this week will be any better. I will try, but I can't promise anything. Please know I adore each and every review! You guys are fantastic, and I'm so thankful for each and every one of you!
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