DISCLAIMER: The story doesn't belong to me; the characters are property of S. Meyer, and the plot belongs to Annalau Thank you so much for letting me share your story in English!

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Chapter 3

My foot gets stuck in a vine causing me to fall on my buttocks. I look in all directions and stand up with my dignity intact shake the snow off my butt and walk deeper into the darkness of the garden.

I must find a door.

As if my thoughts were magic I spot one a few feet away, approach it and pull the latch. Frustration begins to set in as I realize it's locked.

"What are you looking for here?" says a grumpy voice.

My heart thuds: I confirm it with my hand on my chest and feel my legs tremble as I immediately turn around. An imposing man stands in front of me.

"I-I..." I stutter, in fact, every time I'm nervous I do. It's a bad habit I have self-imposed on myself since I was a child. I straighten my posture and bordering on haughty, I face him. "Who are you?"

The guy approaches with two strides and imprisons my body between the wall and his arms, his proximity disturbing me by turning my hands into fists to defend myself if necessary.

"You're looking for my father, bitch."

I narrow my eyes, that's all I'm going to endure. Without thinking I raise my knee and strike his prized testicles. I shake my palms and with a triumphant smile on my lips, I push him out of my way.

He is now breathless and doubled over in pain. Coward.

I turn around singing victory. I must get out of this place. Dull music plays on the other side of the mansion, so I may as well get out without being seen. I'm about to run, but a strong grip on my waist paralyzes me being lifted into the air.

I scream.

My back is slammed against a wall, and I groan in pain, meanwhile, the bearded guy is almost on top of me.

"You're not leaving," he threatens, still agitated.

"Let me go..." I plead against the itching of my back.

He holds my face and leans over me; his breath is cool.

"What are you doing here?" he roars, "And don't lie!"

My hands go to his, trying to remove his fingers that clench my jaw tightly.

"A man stole my purse, I need..." My breath is cut off when his fingers go to my neck. "I need to breathe, please, let me go."

Thoughtfully he withdraws his hand and cages me again with his body and arms.

"You are here because of my father," he insists. "You're his lover, aren't you?"

"You're confusing me," I push his chest with my palms, needing space between us.

"Am I confusing you, Isabella?"

My mouth opens, and I gasp without saying anything. He knows my name, why, I don't know him, I don't remember his face. He has a thick beard and a small ponytail. I can't make out his eye color due to poor visibility. Instead, I notice that he is big and with an athletic body, which is why he looks huge under the dark trench coat.

"I know who you are," he reveals to my silence. "You come from an unknown town called Forks and you study at the private university in town. Do you need me to tell you the name too?"

My eyes widen like saucers that I'm sure are about to pop out of my sockets.

"How do you know all that about me?" I question.

The guy curses and turns and walks around the side of the mansion and I follow in his footsteps.

The snow begins to fall steadily and thickly painting my coat with a slight whiteness, I quicken my pace until I catch up with him. The guy refuses to slow his gait until I grab his arm.

"Answer. How do you know about me?"

He pulls out of my grip without any difficulty, snorts in annoyance at my touch, and tugs on my arm, leading me God knows where...

He's pretty brute, no doubt about it. Especially in the way he almost drags me away without a care in the world.

"How long have you known my father?" he asks as we arrive outside the mansion, standing in the middle of the street with the snow falling on us.

"I don't know who your father is," I insist. "But let me tell you, you're too old to be whining about your father being an adulterer."

"Don't play games with me," he lashes at my arms so hard that my body jerks. "You're Carlisle Cullen's mistress!"

The very name paralyzes me.

Some of my hair is covering my face as my cap falls from the jerky movements he keeps making with me.

"Answer me!" he shouts.

"No. I am no mistress," I say convincingly, but the pressure of his grip is hurting me so much that my voice cracks. "Let go of me."

He finally releases me, lifts my hat, and holds it in his hands. For my part I let him inspect my face and rub my arms on the thick wool of my raincoat. I'm sure I'll have bruises.

"I don't want you looking for my father again," he warns. "I don't want you to come back to this house either, do you understand me?"

"I won't," I answer. "I have no interest in your father, nor in setting foot in your house again. I'm here because..."

"I don't care about your reasons!"

I raise my hands when he yells at me very close. He's out of his mind.

"Hey, take it easy. Don't get hit by something and accuse me of wanting to kill you. Neurotic bastard."

His eyes are watching me with such contempt that all I can do is look at him the same way. At the same moment, I remember that he knows about me, and doubts and shame begin to overwhelm me equally.

"Did your father tell you about me," I clear my throat, "I mean, he told you what?

"That you are his lover."

"I'm not his lover!"

"You're seeing him, aren't you?"

"No!"

He laughs, and his laughter is joyful, he also touches his beard insistently. He looks better laughing because it takes the hateful and grumpy out of it.

"If you go near my father again you are forcing me to communicate with Charlie Swan and tell him everything you do away from his house," he sounds so convincing, and my blood rushes to my feet as he holds out my cell phone. He has it in his hand.

He has my cell phone!

My eyes travel from the smart device to his face; his smile is mocking, and he's enjoying it.

"How did you get it? Did your father give it to you?"

His smile fades.

"Leave my father out of this."

I ignore him and try to take my cell phone out of his hand. We are so synchronized in our movements that we seem to be dancing in the heavy drizzle of snow. He's very tall and even jumping on the tips of my toes I can't reach him.

"Do you want me to turn on the music?" I hear a voice that makes us stop. I distinguish an equally tall guy with a huge coat, he approaches us, and my heart skips a beat. He is the dark-haired bodyguard; he laughs with me. "Hello, you..." he extends his hand to me. "I'm Jacob Black, his best friend. Call me Jake."

Jake holds my icy hand and shakes my hand lightly without removing the cheerful smile from his face.

I can't speak, the words are stuck in my throat while my brain is working at full speed.

"Can you close your mouth?" he asks the grumpy man without taking his eyes off me. "It's breaking my concentration to look at that mouth of yours."

My face heats up. It's... it's the same guy in the room, it's his voice. God, it's his voice! His beard, his imposing stature… Why didn't I notice it before?

I turn around and walk as fast as my legs will let me, the snow is still falling on me and my raincoat is completely wet, but it doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter if I catch a cold, it doesn't matter if I get pneumonia, it doesn't matter if I die.

All I want... is to never see him.

So… they met again. Thoughts?

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