AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Thanks for all the fabulous reviews. I know it was very evil of me to leave it at a cliffy, but it just had to be done. I hope that you enjoy this chapter, as it brings with it the conclusions of that cliffy.

A formal warning for those who might find it too dark, as Edward the Sadist will make an appearance here. Be afraid, be very afraid...

Edward sat in his study, trying to finish off the emergency meeting with Morgan Langley—one of his employees—as soon as possible. He was getting edgy, for he knew the plans of Henry Crawford. He had eavesdropped on the dinner conversation at the Swan residence last night and could very well hear the thoughts that filled Henry's filthy mind.

"That's enough, Mr. Langley. You can tell the rest to Charles later on. I need to take leave now. Something needs my attention immediately," he said curtly as he marched out. He was in a hurry to get to Isabella. Brainless nincompoop! He couldn't come at a more appropriate time! If not for him, I would've been with Bella right now!

Once out in the forest, Edward ran towards the Swan residence at his vampire speed. He could only hope that he wasn't too late.

Meanwhile, Isabella's attempts to fight back were proving futile. Tears started flowing from her eyes in a steady stream as she thrashed about beneath Henry. He was holding her in his grasp like a rag doll, his hands moving deftly across her bodice to ease it off her.

"Please! Just stop it! I don't want this!" she croaked, her voice hoarse from all the shrieking.

"Just shut up and take it," he growled. "You will cry my name in pleasure soon, sugar."

"NO!" She pushed at him with renewed vigour, determined not to let him have it easy, "I'm not your whore! You bastard!"

"Ah! My darling has a foul mouth?" He tugged at her neckline, ripping the top of her dress, revealing more of her cleavage to him. "You are going to enjoy being my whore!"

She screamed as she felt his hands pulling on her clothes.

"You better give in and get used to this, Issy. You'll give me what I want, and it will be our new routine from now on. I'll be coming to see you every other day."

"Oh, no you won't," replied a deep, velvety voice from behind his back. Isabella immediately recognized it.

Suddenly, the weight of Henry's body was lifted off her, giving her a momentary breath. She blinked a few times to clear her tear-blurred vision. All she could see was Henry's body being smashed against the front wall. She wanted to sit up and make out what was happening, but her whole body was paralyzed with shock and exhaustion.

Then, a menacing growl resounded through the room. It jolted her up and freed her from her shock-induced paralysis. She scrambled to her feet and gripped the banister for support, witnessing the whole scene in front of her.

Edward gripped Henry's throat, holding his body up against the wall. His strength surprised Isabella; she had never considered it before.

Edward stared murderously into Henry's eyes. "If I ever see you around her again, trust me, I'll rip your bloody throat off! Understood?" Of course you'll stay away from her, he thought, I'll make sure of it.

Henry struggled under his grip, unable to fight him off. "Ughh-unnggh…"

"I said, understood?" repeated Edward, his hand tightening around Henry's throat.

Henry nodded weakly as he struggled to remove Edward's vice-like grip on his neck. His legs kicked and dangled uselessly as he gasped and choked for air.

Isabella wanted to tell Edward to stop, but she couldn't bring herself to utter a single syllable. If she found him intimidating before, she found him downright frightening right then.

Should I intervene? She thought, debating internally, He looks so angry… oh god, but he came to save me. Thank heavens for that!

She shook her head, trying to unscramble her thoughts. The loud noises from the scuffle brought her attention back to Edward and Henry.

Isabella gasped as she saw Henry's face going pale.

Her frightened gasp alerted Edward, reminding him of her presence. He eased his chokehold on Henry for once. Now is not the time…

Edward released him and shoved him out the door. Henry stumbled and fell into the mud but got up quickly and scrambled for his carriage. The impact from the wall had bruised his shoulders, but the fear of Edward was a big motivator to move quickly.

Edward fought the urge to go after him. He knew that Isabella was still there, watching everything, therefore, he turned around to help her instead. I must leave the right impression. She mustn't even have a whiff of my intentions.

Isabella was still standing by the stairs, frozen in fear and awe.

Edward fought back a possessive growl as his gaze fell upon her tear-stricken face. The angry-looking bite mark on her cheek provoked his fury. That bastard is going to pay for it. How dare he touch her!

Isabella's chest heaved as she sobbed lightly. Edward's eyes shifted towards her torn neckline, her cleavage shamefully exposed.

She stared at him, completely unaware of her wretched state as the violent sobs continued. Still tense, she didn't move an inch as she saw him approaching. He shrugged out of his coat and closed the distance between them as he flapped it around her. He eased the coat onto her shoulders, buttoning it up from the top to cover her up.

She lowered her head and shuddered as she felt the cold fabric of the coat on her skin. That brought her back from her dazed state of mind.

"Isabella?" he called her by name, and this jolted her a little.

She looked up at him, her eyes still teary, but her expression was grateful.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked pensively.

She nodded weakly.

"Do you need anything?" He wasn't very adept at comforting humans, and he felt a little irritated by her silence. "Say something!"

Isabella jumped at his raised voice. "Th-Thank you…" she trailed off as he touched her inflamed cheek with his cool fingers.

"Are you going to be okay?" He was getting a little impatient.

She nodded again.

"And yes, do not open the door for strangers, understand?"

"He wasn't a stranger…," she sobbed again, remembering Angela's warning. "But I will not be so careless again. Thank you." There was an awkward silence afterwards as she lowered her gaze to the floor.

"Don't cry now, it's over. Everything is still the same." Edward ran a hand through his hair in frustration, chagrined at her fragility. "Now, listen to me, Isabella, you are not to mention any of this to Charles when he returns."

She looked up at him again, confused. Once she saw his brooding expression, she decided against arguing with him.

"I have to go now. Take care of yourself and be safe," he said curtly, moving away from her.

She stared at him as he left the house, a feeling of gratitude building inside her. She wanted to say a million things to convey her gratefulness, but nothing came out. Breathing a resigned sigh, she closed the door with her shaky hands and went back to her room.

Isabella eased the coat off her body and examined her torn dress in the mirror. She fought back the recurring tears as Angela's warning about Henry echoed inside her head.

"But I am strong enough to handle it," she told herself, looking back in the mirror, "Like Mr. Masen said, nothing has changed… I'm still unharmed. I am not going dwell on the painful memories of today."

But I do need to see Mr. Masen again, to talk to him and return his coat, she mused distractedly, remembering Edward's request to not tell anything to Charles. She couldn't understand the logic behind that request.

She discarded her torn dress, hid the coat away in her closet and went to take a bath. The warm water helped her wash the bad memories away.

Henry was driving his carriage as fast as he could to get away from Forks Prairie. He was convinced that Isabella would raise an alarm about the whole episode, now that there was a witness against him.

That ghostly pale bodyguard of hers. Who was that?

"I'll tell you who that was."

Before Henry could react, he was already toppling over. He fell off the carriage, his bruised shoulders hurt badly as he landed on his back and rolled onto the wet ground.

Edward picked him up swiftly with one hand and pinned him against a tree. "We meet again, Crawford. But I'm afraid that this…" he crushed Henry's right foot under his own, "is the last time it will happen."

Henry cried out in pain as he felt the bones of his foot give in to the pressure of Edward's foot.

He clutched his injury and tried to limp away as Edward released him. Edward stood there and watched him, letting him have his final and feeble chance of escaping. He was relishing this game of cat and mouse.

Henry paused for a moment, letting his broken foot have a little rest. Looking over his shoulder, he tried to see where Edward was. The heavy rain made visibility low. He couldn't see Edward anywhere.

Is he gone? Is he hiding? he thought frantically as he searched around for Edward. Will he come after me again? I don't want to die…

Henry's subconscious told him that he was in grave danger; he could feel the death lurking nearby. He turned his head back and started moving again. He hadn't gone far, when Edward appeared right in front of him.

"In a hurry, are you?" Edward shoved him backwards, making him fall again.

"Who-who are you?" Henry stuttered, fearing for his life.

Edward walked up to him and sat on his haunches. "I'm the one you should never have meddled with."

"I don't even know you!" Panic was evident in Henry's voice as he tried to comprehend Edward's actions.

"You know Isabella, my Isabella! And that qualifies," Edward spoke through clenched teeth.

"Yo-your Isabella?"

"That's right, Crawford. No one touches the things that belong to me. That is your fault, and now, you will be punished for it." Edward's tone was dead cold; enough to send chills down Henry's spine.

It will be enjoyable, breaking his bones. Edward smiled as the thoughts crept into his mind. I won't drink from him, of course. Bella wouldn't like that, would she? I bet she likes my eyes golden. And I wouldn't want to compromise my thirst either.

Henry crawled back on his elbows, trying to move as far away from Edward as possible.

Edward, on the other hand, remained in his position, watching the struggling man in front of him with delight. He smiled viciously at Henry, who slithered in the mud like an injured snake. It will be a bloodless, bone-crushing death for this filthy swine.

Then, in a sudden move, he sprung forward and grabbed Henry's unharmed foot, breaking his ankle. The resultant cry from Henry was like music to his ears.

"Jesus! Arrrgghhh! Hell! You Devil! Let me go!" Henry screamed in pain, cursing at Edward.

Edward stood over him, his hands crossed over his chest. "Enough with the talking, Crawford. Time for the execution." I wish I could show it to Bella. But she would be afraid of me then. Can't have that happening.

Henry howled in pain as he felt his knees being crushed beneath Edward's feet. His howl was accompanied by Edward's dark laughter.

"Scream, Crawford! I want you to scream the same way you made Bella scream!"

"PLEASE! Let me go! I won't ever mention her name again! Have mercy!"

"Yes, beg, you filthy pig. Did you have mercy on her? Did you? You weren't listening to her pleas, were you?" Edward moved behind him and lifted him up from his shoulders. "So, what makes you think that I'll listen to yours?" he growled in Henry's ear.

A loud cracking noise came from Henry's shoulders as Edward gripped them hard. Henry screamed, more from shock than from pain, his voice cut short with the hoarseness of his throat.

"And something tells me, this isn't the first time you have done something like that to a lady. Huh, Crawford? You are a burden, you know? A bad egg, if you will. Therefore, I must ease the burden," Edward murmured coolly, his peaceful voice contradicting his actions.

Henry's eyes bulged out of their sockets as he felt Edward's hands on his neck. He wanted to move away and run, but he couldn't, having been completely incapacitated.

"Send my greetings to hell, Crawford," he heard Edward whisper in his ear, "Goodbye…"

With a loud snap, Henry's neck was broken.

"Bastards must die," Edward muttered to himself.

He moved from behind Henry's body and came to stand in front of it. He appraised Henry's dead and limp form, enjoying his handiwork.

Whoever touches my Bella meets the same fate.

"Umm, Uncle?" Isabella fidgeted about the dining table.

"Yes, dear?" Charles was finishing his breakfast; he didn't look up from his meal.

"Since it is non-working day for you, may I take the carriage tomorrow? I need to go to the Webber residence."

He dropped his spoon, and it clanked loudly in his bowl. "Alone?"

"Well, yes." She fiddled with the loose threads on her sleeve, uncomfortable and nervous about deceiving her own uncle.

"Can Angela not come here, as she always does?" he asked.

"I'm taking Angela and Mrs. Webber with me, to the Stanleys'. They have called a jeweller from Port Angeles, and we wanted to see his collection. I'll pick them up and then go." She avoided his eyes, knowing full well that she couldn't lie to his face.

"You can tell them to pick you up first, and then leave for the Stanleys' house." He didn't like the idea of sending his precious niece alone again. The last time had been a disaster.

"Uncle…" She tried to find an excuse to let her off the hook. "I believe the weather will be fine tomorrow. If not, then I won't go altogether. I just thought that—the Webbers have always lent us their carriage whenever we needed it. We have never reciprocated. I thought… perhaps this time?" She sighed quietly, knowing how flimsy her excuse was.

"Well, Issy, I have no problems with that. It's just that..." He looked directly into her eyes, his forehead creased in worry. "I am anxious for your safety. What happened the last time when you went to the Webbers'… it still chills my bones."

Isabella was drowning in guilt, but she knew that there was no other way. She knew Charles would not have approved of her actual plans.

"I'll be fine, Uncle. That was just a one-off incident. I already told you that I won't go if the weather is bad. Borrowing from the Webbers every time, it embarrasses me." She looked down. "I'm sorry." She could feel the rush of blood that hurried toward her face. Lying was never an easy task for her.

"No no, my dear, it's fine. You can go. But please, be careful this time." He rose from his chair and patted her shoulder. "So, how long will you be?"

"I have no clue. It depends on how quickly Angela chooses her pieces." She smiled at his curious expression.

"When will you leave?"

"Morning, around nine o'clock, because I hope to be back for lunch. It might get a little late, though. Would you like me to prepare the lunch beforehand?" She wished the interrogation would be over soon.

"No, I would like to have lunch with you, Issy. I can wait. The weekend is the only time when I get to eat lunch with you." He moved towards the main door.

She got his coat and helped him put it on. "Yes, Uncle, I like having lunch with you on weekends as well."

When he reached the door, he stopped abruptly and looked at the front wall. "Issy?"

"Hmm?" She followed his gaze and immediately regretted it. The cracks in the front wall glared at her, reminding her of the events of yesterday.

"How did that happen?" He pointed at the cracks.

"Umm, I don't know, Uncle. I only noticed just now…." She fidgeted again. "Could it be the dampness? Maybe it got into the wall and froze in the morning."

"Well, I've never seen that happen before. That is strange." He gave the wall one more look and then headed outside.

A feeling of relief washed over Isabella as she saw Charles depart. Her lies were not detected, and her plan was still intact.

"Oh, good morning," Isabella approached the house attendant who was cleaning the floors. "I have come for Mr. Masen. Could you please inform him that Isabella Swan is here to see him?" She didn't know how formal she had to be, but she tried nonetheless.

The attendant looked up at her in dismay. She was the same attendant who had interrupted Edward the day he showed Isabella his room. "I'm sorry, but he's not available right now," she spat out what he had told her to, keeping in line with his instructions.

Isabella was disappointed. She had hoped to find him there in the morning. She had lied to her uncle just so she could meet with Edward. "Is there any chance that he might be available any time soon?"

"I'm afraid not," the attendant replied tersely and started walking away.

Isabella nodded and turned around to get back to her carriage. She sighed, clutching Edward's coat close in her hands. Well, this trip was fruitless.

"Miss Swan!" she stopped abruptly as Edward's smooth voice called out from behind.

Or maybe not. Thank heavens for that! She turned back to face Edward, who was leaning against the door frame in a casual manner.

"I thought you weren't at home?"

"You can see that I am. Come inside." He walked back into the mansion. His body language was enough to tell her to follow.

He stopped outside his study and motioned for her to head inside. Once inside the study, he opened the big windows on the wall behind his table to allow the fresh air to enter. Although her scent wasn't as difficult to handle as before, he didn't want to take any chances.

He turned his back to her and rested his hands on the windowsill. "What brought you here?"

She could feel the hostility in his voice; it made her squirm. "I-I needed to talk to you." Perhaps, this wasn't the right time? One can never know with him. Always so mercurial.

"Regarding?" He kept his back to her, wondering if she told anyone about Henry's misconduct.

"Yesterday," she blurted out, "I don't know what to do about it. I haven't told anyone yet."

"Good. You probably shouldn't." He could sense her nervousness, and it pleased him.

"But… why?" Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Isabella..." He turned around to face her. "Do you have any understanding of social norms and mechanisms?" he said condescendingly.

She looked at him with a bewildered expression, offended and puzzled at the same time.

Edward continued, "Do you think that telling people about this incident would do you any good?" He moved towards the table and sat on its edge, still facing her. "Do you think that Crawford would be punished?" She shall never know that he already has been punished, he thought smugly.

She stared at him blankly; his words were not making any sense to her.

"You know, all the vilification that will ensue afterward will be on you and not on him." His intimidating tone made her cringe, yet she was determined to put forth her own view.

"But it wasn't my fault that he attacked me!" she argued.

"Yes, but that is what I'm trying to drill into your hard skull! You have no comprehension of the way people respond to such cases. They will accuse you, not him, because you're the one who presented the temptation to him. That is what the usual reaction will be." His eyes bored into hers, trying to will her into submission.

She lost her train of thought as his eyes locked with hers. But she quickly composed herself and carried on, "Temptation…? I never encouraged him!" She wasn't ready to let go of this argument.

"Of course you didn't, but only you know that. People have a habit of making assumptions, Isabella. I am sure that they will decide that it wasn't completely his fault, that you were the one who lured him in, intentionally or unintentionally." Edward saw her determination falter in response to his harsh words. It gave him the leverage to manipulate her, and he knew how to that well.

"But I can't just remain quiet about it. What if he comes back? I won't be lucky every time!" A hint of petulance entered her voice, as she tried feebly to hang on to her argument.

"You can keep your doors closed in that case," he replied bluntly, and that made her flinch.

"He might do it to someone else…" she said softly, feeling hurt by his brusqueness.

Edward smiled at her, feeling victorious. He won't.

"That's not your concern. Besides, think about your uncle, Isabella. Do you think that Charles could handle all the denigration? Have you considered that? Do you want to see him drowned in anxiety again? I'm sure you don't want that," he stated confidently. He was sure that the mention of Charles would keep her lips sealed.

"No, I don't want him to suffer because of me." She looked away dejectedly.

"Obviously. Now do you understand?"

She nodded, feeling defeated. Even though she hadn't fully understand the logic behind Edward's reasoning, she didn't want to take any chances. Therefore, for the sake of her uncle, she decided to stay quiet about the whole incident.

"And yes, be more careful from now on. Don't be so oblivious to the reactions of men around you. Given how desirable you are…" Edward almost gave away his intentions with that statement.

"Desirable?" she squeaked in shock.

"Isabella, don't tell me that you don't know that. In plain words, men find you tempting, and men like a good temptation."

"But, you're a man as well," she whispered to herself, not intending for him hear.

"Did I ever deny that?" He had obviously heard her.

"Deny what? Being a man?" she mocked, beginning to dislike his cryptic talk.

He tilted his head slightly and looked at her with a strange expression. "You know what I mean, Isabella. You know exactly what I mean." His eyes blazed as he gazed at her with full intensity.

She gulped, feeling incapacitated under his hypnotic gaze. She couldn't bring herself to respond.

A few seconds passed in silence.

Desperately wanting to change the course of the conversation, Isabella spoke again, "Why did you come? I mean to say… how did you know that I was in trouble? Or was there another reason to pay a visit?"

His gaze hardened at her question, and his eyes became cold. He rose from the table and returned to the window. "Can't you just thank me and leave it at that?"

His harsh tone made her flinch again. She knew that he wasn't going to give her a valid answer to that question.

"Thank you—for everything," she croaked. "And… I brought your coat back."

He nodded, looking out the window. "Leave it on the chair."

Another moment passed in silence. The tension in the room grew.

"You may take your leave now, Miss Swan" he snapped, still looking outside.

Completely flustered, Isabella left the coat on the chair and fled the room. She pushed the whole conversation to the back of her mind as she approached her carriage. I can think about it later when I'm alone. Must get to the Webbers quickly, or else they'll start wondering where I went.

"So, Issy, what do you think about this one? Should I wear this or the other one I bought from Port Angeles?" With only two days left until the Grand Ball, Angela was still undecided with her attire. Therefore, she had invited Isabella to her home for advice.

"Well, honestly, I don't know…" Isabella eyed the two dresses, then continued, "Maybe that blue one?"

Angela looked approvingly at her dress. "I thought as much," she chirped. "Fine then, let's go downstairs for lunch."

Downstairs, Mrs. Webber had already gotten the table laid for lunch. "Oh girls, what took you both so long?"

"We were deciding on what to wear to the Grand Ball," replied Angela, giving her mother a hug.

"Oh yes, that is a serious issue," Mrs. Webber teased.

They settled at the table and started with their lunch. It had only been a few minutes when an attendant came running towards the lunch table. "Mrs. Webber, the Sheriff is here. He-he wants to talk to you."

Everyone stopped eating, and a strange lull fell over the lunch table.

"Police?" Mrs. Webber asked, looking incredulously at the attendant. He nodded. Composing herself, she continued, "Yes, of course. Please ask him to wait."

Mrs. Webber deliberated over the probable reasons behind this visit, but the more she thought, the more confused she became. Therefore, wasting no further time, she hurried to the drawing room, where the Sheriff was waiting for her. Isabella and Angela followed right behind her.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Webber," the Sheriff greeted, "I'm really sorry for disturbing you, but this is something of a routine task. Getting to point here, I wanted to ask a few questions."

"Regarding?" Her expression was guarded.

"Well, a death has been reported in the area. We're here to investigate it."

All the three women uttered a collective gasp.

"I'm extremely sorry, but this is our job. This might be a little disturbing. Please, don't feel offended, I'll try to keep it as concise as possible," he tried to put the nervous women at ease, and then continued, "A body was recovered on the forested land owned by Mr. Bates. He himself found it when he was taking a tour through the woods. Appears to be some kind of animal attack, probably a bear."

He paused for a moment, letting the information sink in. "This body is in a very bad shape, completely mangled and mutilated; we're unable to have it identified. Hence, we collected the belongings that were found on the body, for identification purposes. All I want of you is to have a look at them, and please let me know if you recognize anything."

Mrs. Webber nodded. Although flustered, she knew that her own family had nothing to with it, and that the police were only conducting a door-to-door investigation.

Angela and Isabella, on the other hand, weren't quite able to control their reactions. Even the thought of viewing something from a dead body was making them jumpy.

The Sheriff put forth the wooden box that he had been holding all this time. Opening it, he turned the box in the direction of Mrs. Webber. "There's a fountain pen, a cigar box, and strangely enough, a diamond necklace," he stated with slight amusement in his voice. "A bear would certainly not find it of any value."

Isabella froze at the mention of the diamond necklace. She bent forward slightly, a feeling of dread washing over her as she peeked at the items inside the box.

Her face lost all its colour as she looked at the necklace. It was the same necklace that Henry Crawford had dangled in front of her as a bait to seduce her. She tried to neutralize her expression, but her ashen face refused to regain its normal colour. Drawing herself back, she tried to hide behind the heavyset frame of Mrs. Webber.

It has to be the same necklace. I remember it vividly. Henry Crawford was pushing it into my face. And now, he is… dead? Isabella gave an involuntary shudder at the thought, which didn't go unnoticed by Angela.

"What is it, Issy?" Angela whispered into her ear.

"I-I think I might be sick. Angela, I cannot go through this, seeing a dead man's belongings. It's making me nauseous," Isabella replied feebly.

"Let me help you, then." Angela patted her shoulder, trying to soothe her. "Mother? May I take Isabella inside? She's not feeling too well. All this is making her uncomfortable." She waved at the wooden box to emphasize her point.

The chief raised an eyebrow at her, and then looked at a very pallid-faced Isabella. "Is she a part of this family?"

"No, she's the niece of Mr. Charles Swan, a family friend." Mrs. Webber gave Isabella a reassuring look and continued, whispering this time, "She lost her parents not long ago, so, I believe this procedure is making her relive a few bad memories. I suggest that you please let her go inside."

The officer nodded, glancing at Isabella once more, just to see if her reaction was one of recognition. Her face looked frozen to him, as though she wasn't even present inside the room. He assumed it the result of the trauma of her parents' death and left it at that.

"What happened, Issy?" asked Angela, as she escorted Isabella out of the room. She took her to the kitchen and offered her a glass of water.

"Nothing, Angela, I'm a bit sensitive about things like this…" Isabella took the glass from Angela and emptied it quickly. Water always helped soothe her nerves.

"A little? You look like a ghost, Issy." Angela was worried for her friend.

"I'm fine now." Isabella wanted to suppress the memories of that day, but the more she tried, the more she got pulled back. She knew that she couldn't tell anyone about the whole episode with Henry, even more so now. Henry Crawford was dead, and she recognized that diamond necklace.

I can't explain my knowledge of that necklace without divulging the details of …the incident, she thought dreadfully.

And so she decided to stay quiet about it.

I hope my Sadistward didn't put ya'll off. Well, according to me, he did have a very valid reason to be so pissed. Therefore, Off with Henry's head!

Aye? lol.