Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, quotes, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners and are simply used under 'fair use'. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is written for the legally recognized adult population.

In Love And War

*~*~* Chapter Three : A Girl Like Her*~*~*

'I want the world to see that you were meant for me...' ( Wanda Jackson)
*~*~*

This day was going to be torturous. It was like the weather itself was setting the ominous events into motion. The rain began to pelt just as she entered the grand hall. Of course, she couldn't have known that seeing as she was in the house, but I was watching her. Her every move was perfectly visible from the office above the grand hall.

My hand dug painfully into the untamable mess on my head, pulling tightly till the roots burned like fire, threatening to tear free at the sheer stupidity of it all. She was fucking alone. No one walked in with her.

Are you fucking kidding me!?

It was hard enough trying to fight my instincts without help from her! Seeing Swan's one loose end walk in unguarded was fucking with my head.

Was this meant to test my control as much as it does? Because fuck me if this didn't feel like an uphill battle on one slippery motherfucking slope.

Why the fuck would Swan let his daughter go anywhere with her head screwed on the way it is, let alone to his enemies abode by herself.

Unless she'd snuck off before he could have a guard sent with her, in which case this girl needs a shrink, fucking stat.

Fuck it. Whatever Phoenix was playing at, the foreboding feel of tonight was set. This was too good… too tempting an opportunity to pass up.

Bambi's mine.

My brows furrow as I grasp the honesty behind those words. Annoying, infuriating thoughts that pushed bile up my throat and made me sneer and choke. No one else may know it, but something constantly nagged at me when I thought of taking her now. Since seeing her, I wasn't sure what the fuck my plan was…

Fucking pathetic.

Her every action yesterday had sent me spiraling out of control. Alone last night, I sat at the foot of my bed for fucking hours, robbed of my sleep by an insignificant sixteen-year-old. The fuck!

She was not what I was expecting her to be. Fuck me, she was startlingly beautiful, brilliantly kind, impishly playful, opinionated as fuck and, much to my frustration, she had absolutely no fucking sense of self-preservation.

If I was going to be truthful with myself in the empty safety of my chambers, she had won over the hearts of many yesterday, and apparently not just the moronic fuckers in my family.

Heidi of the Volturi seemed to honestly like the girl, appreciating her well bred poise, the ladylike manner she conducted herself with, and the strong way she carried herself. Heidi, a self-proclaimed super bitch. A woman born into power and money who never spared a sideward glance at anyone not of high rank in the underworld, saw fit not only to mingle, but actually took pleasure in the company of the girl.

Seth Clearwater was another. Bambi had completely won him over with her actions. She had no reason to aid the boy and yet she had. His fondness for her, however, pissed me off more than it should.

Every detail was evergreen in my mind, replaying seamlessly like a screenplay: The smile gracing her features as she helped Seth out of a ridiculously trivial situation, the mischievous glint never leaving her eyes as she did so and the fire that took over the brown chocolate pools when she faced the older Clearfucker that threatened her family and belittled his son.

I even recalled the impish relief on her face when she interacted with her brothers under the false assumption that they were alone.

It was unfathomable the way she conducted herself; with poised, self-assured strength, yet complete inexperience that coated her in layers upon layers, she was the perfect contradiction.

The more images that run through my mind, the further I find myself spiraling. The charming stature Bambi painfully maintained in our presence; a polite smile in place as she distracted her guards to assist us with that ever-amusing roguish glint in her eyes when they complied. The appeal lying in her, Isabella was what she was, real in her unpretentiousness, constantly wearing her heart on her buoyant sleeve.

My lips tugged up at the corner.

And then at the drop of a hat, the beautiful self-contained girl was replaced by a mature young woman right before my eyes. I marveled at how quickly the transition happened. She moved from mischievous teenager to little-tyke referee, so seamlessly abandoning her natural childishness when she needed to save the shit around her.

She was a girl, yes, but definitely mature. An old soul my mother would say, rational and headstrong, a woman before her years.

The more I mulled over that one particular puzzle the more Emmett's words repeated themselves in my subconscious. … She's innocent.

I wasn't sure what exactly it was that I was feeling when it came to this Phoenix or anything involving her. I know what I should do, what I should feel. I know absolutely fucking everything and yet here I am still motherfucking thinking things over. Repeatedly.

What set me off balance was the fucking need to protect her from her father when he began losing his shit. What the fuck was that? I can still feel the skin stretch taut against my knuckles and my blunt nails dig deep into my palm from when that fist formed, to strike or refrain I'm not sure, for daring to raise his voice to her. The hatred for him alone that coursed through me moreover as I watched Swan walk away, leaving her outside with us, was profound.

Bringing myself to the present, my palm drags along my face as I watch the brown locks bounce lightly in time with her footfalls. What the fuck is going on…

She saw the world in a completely different light. Beautifully pure, though set with an edge, and I was completely mesmerized by her. But I couldn't let anyone know that tonight, now could I? Right. So let's get this show on the road.

With one last calming breath, I make my way to the foyer.

~.~.~

Upon entering the hall, I made a mental note to thank Alice for the dim lighting. My eyes widened. Beautiful.

Father and Jasper were already there, and lead Bambi to the drawing room we reserved for entertaining. I followed them at a slower pace.

Ever the gentleman, Father was helping her out of her coat while Jazz poured her a glass of wine. I stop outside the entryway. My throat went dry as I watched the coat being peeled away from her skin, like watching a birthday present being opened.

She was amazing in her understatement. A denim skirt stopped below her mid thigh, a modest red top with straps wrapped along her slender shoulders and extended into sleeves that stretched along her arms, finishing with knee high black boots rimmed with fur. Holy fuck, her legs were sin.

My pants tightened painfully as I drank in the sight, my heart pounding and dick throbbing. She was scandalously beautiful… casually dressed in my sitting room, unsuspectingly smiling at my father and brother-in-law with an air of innocence surrounding her warm stature.

"Fuck Boss! What the hell is Alice doing here?"

Emmett's hoarse whisper brought me out of my retarded state. Thank fuck for fucking Emmett. His heavy footfalls as he speedily made his way to me were a thing of humor.

I turned towards him with a bastard smile. It pissed him off some more.

"What I can't invite my sister for dinner?" I asked.

"We agreed yesterday that none of the ladies were to meet her in case you went through with the original plan," he spoke to me with a hint of annoyance.

He was right. We had decided that yesterday. One of the downsides of being such close friends with Em and Jazz was that they could read me like a book when I'm up to something and I did have an ulterior motive for having Alice here tonight.

"Deny Alice two parties in a row?" I deadpanned, disinterestedly. He caught the raised eyebrow and shook his head in defeat. He knows her well too.

He didn't have to think it over. "Yeah, but—." Emmett's nostrils flare out as he breathes heavy… he sees my point… he also knows I'm lying… what he knows above all else is he can't call me on it.

I smirk.

"Relax," I waved my hand out casually, "I called her to set up dinner for the Swan girl and you know how Alice gets about entertaining and shit like that. Besides, Isabella will be more comfortable around another female." I answered with indifference, smiling smugly on the inside. That was a rather believable excuse. In reality, I'd brought Alice in for something quite different. All that was needed was to tell my beloved sister that the daughter of Phoenix, with all her wicked ways, had been invited to dinner by her Masen men and voila, Alice was ever willing to aid me tonight.

My sister is a pearl. In my own way, I fucking adore her, but with Alice everything has to be done in a certain way. She's very excitable, and remains respectful but Alice will always be the queen of fucking manipulation. It runs in our blood, and like every member of our family, she's territorial as fuck, and fucking with her men constitutes war for her.

All attributes I wish to utilize tonight. I give not a flying fuck. I needed to keep Bambi close, only I wasn't sure what my reasoning for that need was anymore.

"You're a dick, y'know that fucker?" Emmett asked me, the corner of his mouth twitching in both admiration and frustration.

I returned his look with grave eyes and a wicked smile.

"I've never said that I played fair. I play to win. That's that." Eye to eye with him, we regarded each other carefully before he nodded in respectful acceptance. "Good. Now we going to stand here all night or do you want to go welcome Princess Phoenix to our humble abode?" I questioned rhetorically, before waltzing into the room, smirking at my cousin's reaction to the threat he knows lies laced in my words, leaving him standing there.

Carlisle was speaking to her as I approached, and Isabella turned slightly towards me and smiled timidly. Momentarily, I was at a loss for words as I took her in up-close.

Carlisle clearly misunderstood my silence for insolence and shot me a pointed look.

I wasn't sure if I was unhappy that he misread the expression. At the very least, Father didn't know of the mindfucking fascination I had with her that renders me in a spectacular, albeit infuriating state of speechlessness. Fuckit.

But that also meant that Isabella thought I was an asshole who detested her…

Ughh, I need a drink.

I roll up my sleeves to my elbow. Who gives a fuck? I am an asshole and it's best for her to believe that.

I smirked at her, my eyes maintaining their innate intimidation, watching her face with amusement as she slowly examined me with furrowed brows sensing danger, first my face then my arms. Her face flushed in confusion, brown pools follow my fingers transfixed the higher they go until I push one hand out to her. Startled, she blushes harder.

"Isabella, I see you found the place alright," I spoke, taking her hand in mine. The electricity was there this time too, no more, no less, a constant and she may have felt it too because this time she pulled her hand back as fast as I had at her place yesterday.

"Yes," she replied in much the same tone as me, "my first clue was the hundreds of Masen crests soldered to the perimeter walls."

Cheshire smile and claws out, I smirked inwardly in appreciation, Bambi was fire.

Out of the quiet chuckles that met her response, Emmett's booming laugh caught her attention, pulling her eyes away from me to acknowledge him at my side. Her blush subdued but her smile grew, wide and genuine at the mammoth. I suppressed profound displeasure as they said their hellos, warm and friendly. That was different from the way she regarded me.

I scowled, feeling my poisonous insides stir.

"I see you made the dress quota." McCarty grinned jokily at her.

Carlisle had insisted that we not go the semi-formal route, something that we were all secretly pleased about. Don't judge. It wasn't often that we could entertain in comfortable attire.

Southern and Emmett were both gratefully clad in jeans and sweaters, compliments of Alice. While her husband donned her favorite combination of colors in the form of an olive sweater over white pants, Mammoth was sharp in black jeans and a brown sweater. Father stuck to his guns, wearing what he does to our barbeques, chinos, and sweater and dress shoes. I, after much gunfire from Alice over my initial wardrobe choice, wore blue jeans, a red button down shirt, with a pair of black converse she approved of because she'd bought them.

"Told you I would," Bambi smiled cheekily at Emmett then the rest of the room. "Nice seeing laid-back mobsters by the way."

"A relief getting to dress down tonight," Big guy laughs like a grating fucking engine in response, dented cheeks and the works, before he pointed to Alice in the doorway. "This is the result of the little monster over there."

Aptly titled, the little monster was covered head to toe in shiny, brightly colored material by several personally acquainted designers, complete with her usual pick of 5 inch heels. I mentally roll my eyes. Yes, so this was my sister dressed down. Christ.

How women spend the whole fucking day in those things is beyond me. I secretly think she's so fond of fucking heels because she's so tiny but she fully argues that it's because she's fashionable.

Bullshit. She's a dwarf in denial.

Alice smiled and made her way to Jasper's side, eyeing Isabella discreetly through the corner of her venomous blue-ice orbs.

"This is Jasper's lovely wife, Alice. Alice, this is Isabella Swan," Emmett introduced the two.

"Pleasure to meet you," Isabella greeted Alice with a smile, but this was the first time that her lips didn't hold my attention.

My eyes tore away from her face to my sister's. I recognized that look anywhere.

Alice stared at the girl with a small, fake smile but a faraway fucking look in her eyes and apparently I wasn't the only one who recognized it. The other three fuckers in the room were watching the girls exchange closely too.

She reached out and shook Isabella's outstretched hand, but not before her gaze briefly darted to me.

"Trust me," she says turning to Bambi, "the feeling's mutual."

Alice's stare moves back to me as Carlisle gestured for everyone to move towards the fireplace.

"What is it?" I whispered, as she fell back in step with me.

"Are you sure about her, Brother?" She asked softly, staring intently at me. I didn't miss her choice of the word 'brother' over the usual 'Edward'. She was confused and cleverly treading very carefully.

"Recall any other moments when you saw Father this gracious towards the Phoenix?" It's rhetorical. Immaculately holding the mask in place, I smirk inward as Alice scrutinizes Bambi harder.

"I understand what you're saying," She whispers back, "but I don't see it."

Ah the 'see it'… This makes more sense to me. Alice always possessed the power to see things, she was so accurate in her calculations and reading people it was as if she could make predictions.

"Alice, you see that," I nudged my head in the direction of the fireplace where father was openly conversing with Isabella.

"Charles Swan's daughter and Dad," She replied sharply in sour disbelief as she walked towards them, "All I need to see."

~.~.~

There was still time left until dinner and everyone was easily making pleasant small talk. The other three men and Isabella were engaged in a debate about the soccer match they were glued to on my prized flat screen, while Alice sipped on her wine and I downed my Scotch, each playing silent observer. Personally, the banter flying back and forth was amusing. They enthusiastically engaged Isabella in the conversation, clearly surprised when they realized she was the first girl we encountered that knew the game as opposed to which fucker was 'hot'. I bit into the side of my cheeks as Bambi and the guys went at it, ridiculous, considering they were backing the same fucking team.

"Dinner is ready, Mr. Cullen," The chef informed me.

I couldn't help the grin that appeared when Isabella's attention shifted towards me for a split second and her eyes widened, having expected this to be Father's house.

"Thank you, Dante," I answered before rising from my seat and facing the others. "Shall we?"

I lead us to the mahogany family table chosen by Mother that rests at the heart of the grand dining hall. Father and I stand till the girls are assisted to their seats by McCarty and Southern, before we collectively take ours.

Father sits at the end of the table opposite from me at the head, to my right sits Emmett and in a last minute switch Alice opts to take Jasper's usual place at my left. I eye her curiously while my mind drifts to something completely irrelevant… this leaves Bambi between Father and Emmett at the far end from me.

The starters were served and immediately the banter continued, new matches, old leagues, everything thrown into one random spitball, each firing to win.

Isabella smiled and giggled with my family as if she hadn't just stuck her head down the Lion's mouth, pun intended. No one addressed the elephant in the room, if Charles Swan knew she was here without her guard. It was an answer we already knew. No chance in fucking hell did he have a clue his princess gave his pit-bulls the slip. I wondered more and more how she would've accomplished it this time? Did she have a cover? She knows enough about this business to know what a dangerous game she's playing, but if I'm going by my observations yesterday, Bambi is also smart enough to know how far to take it without crossing the line.

I would have had to have been blind not to notice she looked amazing. She was laughing so hard at something that Emmett had said, she had tears rimming her striking, chocolate globes and her face was hot red. She wasn't the only one that was enjoying herself either, because from what I could tell, the guys were making a valiant attempt in entertaining her, looking pretty bloody pleased that she was having a good time.

What the fuck.

Alice was watching them interact as closely as I was; dissecting the girl's every movement.

"No way! Man U fan right here people," she gestures to herself with the fork dancing between her fingers, "of course I get that Gerrard plays for Liverpool. But give credit where credit is due, he played an awesome game!" Bambi explodes with passionate fervor, stubborn and determined, gutting out her chin and narrowing her sparkling eyes as she makes her argument like it decides the fate of global politics. "And besides, it's the 'World Cup', he's playing for England not Liverpool."

"Well, if a lethal shortie like you's saying some wouldn't dare go against it." Emmett looks at her with comical mock fear. "Start making your bones with me and taking off with my dough in no time despite know'n I'm right."

There are several cusses I know Emmett eliminates because we're in her presence, he's the crudest fucker in the room. But it's what Bambi says that fucks my mind over.

"Not a problem, Em-bear," With unsuspecting sincerity, she continues to eat. "I work not with blood money."

I swear I'm not alone in Silent-as-Fuckville. Several eyes blink in succession, but no words are spoken, just her fork clinking with her plate until she notices our stares and quickly continues.

My curiosity at its peak, I watch her trip over herself, treading carefully but refusing to back down on her standpoint.

"Relax. I'm not knocking it," She says, her face composed, open to other views but holding true to her belief though she appears exaggeratedly imploring, hinting to me the inner fear she hides over what she's just stated to a room of mobsters. "It works for you guys in the business and that's your thing, got nothing to do with me but I'm just saying it's not something I choose to do. It's not—" she stops rambling and searches for the right words before letting out a defeated sigh that is so deeply rooted in discomfort, I'd kill to know what she's thinking that makes her look the way she does. "It's just not…"

Right? Me? Good? Holy?— Fuck, it's just not what?

My brows dig under the fallen tuffs of my hair as my eyes grow with belated comprehension, even if no one else had picked up on it, Bambi had completed what she was trying to say… It was a statement. It's just not.

How the fuck could this be Charles Swan's child?

I was shocked. Fuck that, we were all shocked. Silence fell over the table, one that was impenetrable and obvious, hanging thick and uncomfortable in the air. I was certain that the hard mask that I was wearing would begin to fail miserably pretty soon and I was grateful when Alice kicked me under the table, unknowingly helping me out of my predicament. My gratitude, however, was short lived when I turned my attention to her and found her shooting me a questioning look. Her eyebrow lifted a bit and I knew she was second guessing my assessment of the girl again. To my dismissal of her inquiring gaze, she turned towards Bambi.

"So, Isabella, my brother tells me you pulled quite a number last night," Alice chips in suddenly and I swear I almost fucking spit out the wine.

"Your brother?" Isabella's brow pulled in confusion. "Who—"

"The guy you're so nicely matching." Alice smiled devilishly at the outfits and waved her petite hand over towards me.

Change of plan; I wanted to spit my wine into it. Instead, I swallow and keep the bored look. The fucking brat! What was Alice playing at?

"Broody?" Isabella inquired in utter disbelief.

Fuck. Me?

For a beat I can't believe my ears. Then two. The other occupants of the table do a double-take, hiding traces of sheer amusement behind gulps of liquor and garbles of food, like fucking cavemen.

"Huh?" Alice asked in amazement.

Her cheeks pink, eyes raised to the ceiling, and lemon expression giving me the impression she was mentally kicking herself. "Edward?" Isabella tried again, fast.

I stared at her with mirthful eyes, watching her squirm, as did the others. Coughing behind my hand, hiding the corners of lips that pull up, I force myself to look at her without letting the laughter leak. A feat in itself.

Alice recovers from the initial shock, a small smile playing on her lips. "Wow, didn't take you long to nail him."

Fuck what I wouldn't give to nail her, Alice.

"Edward and Alice are indeed brother and sister. Edward is my first born and my baby girl Alice followed two years later," Carlisle informed Bambi, putting in herculean effort to contain his smirk as he made the proper introductions. "Jasper and Alice were officially married three years ago, but he has been a part of the family since childhood. Both he and Edward's cousin, Emmett over there, were raised by my wife Esme and me. Unfortunately, she and Emmett's wife, Rosalie, could not join us tonight, but Alice here isn't one to be deterred from playing host," he ends off, lightly shaking his head at the monster in question.

Soft laughter covers the table, and I'm tempted to look at Bambi but a sharp kick to my shin catches my attention.

"What?!" I seethe under my breath to Alice who doesn't seem fazed. She holds her fake smile immaculately in place, looking around the table.

"Well, gentlemen, you'll have to excuse me, I have to check on something…"Alice stood up and stammered, clearly unprepared, "in the kitchen."

We Masens blink. Alice, really?

The mere fact that my sister mentioned having to go to the kitchen at all would've been motherfucking hilarious if it wasn't for her next words. With a sweet smile, Alice turns towards me.

"Care to help me, Edward."

Fuckit.

"Sure." I stand up, avoiding the curious glances from the men.

My jaw tensed and locked anticipating that I won't like this. Sis doesn't disappoint. The second we're out the door, she practically drags me to the closest drawing room. Letting go of my hand finally, she spins around to face me, staring hard, waiting for me to crack. Cute.

"Alice, what the hell is this about?" I ask, bored.

"I was hoping you could tell me, Brother." She looked at me intently, searching for anything that could give her a clue that I was up to something, although knowing she wouldn't find it unless I was in the mood to humor her with honesty. I wasn't.

"Alice, you're going to have to trust me. A means to an end," I repeat to her what we've discussed already. "We get back full control of Chicago through her. Nothing personal, just business, same way Swan operates. Get the guys away from the girl long enough for me to act. Freddie got the place ready for her downtown."

"The storm's turned violent; few of the major roads in the city are closed."

My head snapped to the doorway where Carlisle was leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, looking me in the eye.

"I've requested that Isabella spend the night here. She can't drive home like this." He pushes off the wall, straightening up to his full height. "Maria is showing her to the guest room."

Alice looks between us, finding the clue she's been searching for all night and grabs at it like a hellion flytrap.

"Don't insult my intelligence, Edward, why would Dad invite her to stay? I mean, why would he consider her safety of all things? Give me a break— allow me to form my own opinion." Alice places her hand on her hip and looks at me expectantly, like she's caught me out. My gaze won't move from Father however. The shadow heavy over my face makes her reconsider fast and the hand and tone drop instantaneously.

"She wasn't a 'shrewd bitch' as you so kindly put it on the phone last night," she says at a significantly more subdued level, "You lied, just admit it."

"Spare me. Alice, you'd form your opinion based on a fucking good wardrobe choice!" I spit, my temper loosely controlled when addressing her, yet flaring beneath the surface, eager to be done with this conversation and have it out with Father.

"Well, as long as I wasn't the only one!" Alice stared at me with gleeful incredulity.

"What?" I don't have time for this. My temple throbs as I call for patience and turn back to my little sister, who is choosing now of all moments to play the part.

"Glad you approved of her looks too, Brother," she replies, smug as fuck to my bewildered look, and quickly saunters away from me towards the safety of Father.

Fuck my big mouth. Of all the irrelevant things to worry over. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I get my shit together, ignoring fucking Alice and shoot my gaze back to the old man, my current problem.

"You recruited your sister to help you capture the girl even after I warned you against it, Edward?" Carlisle's voice was exasperated as he stared me down.

"Well, someone has to stay level-headed." I retort, my temper dangerously rising. This is fucking insane. How has he lost sight of the reasoning he passed down to me? Absurd. Motherfucking crazy. This was taking it too far. "She's the weak link," I repeat. Shit, he should already know this, because, fuck me, this was what he taught me. Where the fuck was his head at?

"The only one we've ever been presented with." There's no humor in my chuckle. It's short and cold. Lethal, like I feel. My eyes flash in the way that I picked up from him years ago. "This is business and it may be the fucking last opportunity we have. I refuse to let it go. Not something this golden." Not her.

"Edward, it's not always as fucking simple as that." Father and Boss internally at war, trying to further school his prodigy. "You must understand that there is always something different, a cut above the rest. Whether we fucking like it or not, this is one time where, despite the enemy having a weakness, it may not be right to use it. Remember the fucking code." His voice rises with violent intentions, needing me to see his point. Like father like son.

" I know the fucking code!" I explode, matching him inch for inch. "I am the fucking code!"

Even my eyes want to burn him, drop him where he stands. He sees it too and appreciates it, prideful despite his fury.

"I never fucking said I'd spill her blood," I hiss, a dangerous calm he knows too well, "I'm not going to fucking clip her," I bite out, the words bitter on my tongue. My fists lock. I want to break something fucking badly. "She's leverage. My leverage."

"Everyone has their own story, son, just because you know her brothers', doesn't mean hers is the same." Father firmly reasons with me, slipping back into his signature calm, otherworldly wise tone. Motherfucking Yoda.

I shake my head at him, at the end of my rope, "I don't care what her story is. It is as it stands. I'm a reasonable man, but you forget, Father, she is your guest not mine. This is business and the face value is what matters to me. She's of his blood, her story is just that. Nothing more."

My temper builds on itself. My father, the Masen head before me, invited her to 'stay'. What the gesture stands for aggravates me. She's not my problem. She's not anything. What the fuck is wrong with them?

"I don't care if she hates the cold." My chest rolls and vibrates, a growl behind the hiss. I throw her words from yesterday at him, spitting fire and daring him not to hear my point, now spoken so obviously, undeniably, so poisonously. I take a single step forward. Somewhere in my mind, I recognize Alice flinch, knowing what's coming. I'm too gone to bother, so is Father, and neither breaks the stare. "Or that she's afraid as fuck of pathetic fucking storms," I recall it all like second nature, hearing her voice, seeing her face play back in my head. My jaw locks, speaking through teeth as I take another step, seething meaningfully low, standing at the heart of the room. "And I sure as fuck don't give a shit if she couldn't drive home tonight in one."

He holds my defiant glare from the short distance between us. Neither ready to give in, building the tension up to the point where the air in the room is so thick, no one breathes until Alice speaks.

"She's seriously afraid of storms?"

Father doesn't bother answering, his gaze fixed on me. I nod in irritation, but swallow my snide remark as she waves her hand towards the ceiling, gesturing to me while an incredulous as fuck expression weaves across her face. I listen closer and hear the thunder clap loudly. The storm is murderous outside. The water beating down heavy like footfalls in a stampede, while the cruel howling of the winds echoes so loudly in the night, it sounds like an army of werewolves are being branded outside the mansion.

Thunder claps again, vibrating the cold glass of the windows behind me. In my peripheral vision, I see the bright flash of light tear across the sky.

"Where are you going?" I called after Alice as she walks towards the staircase.

"First floor, Edward," Alice huffed, stomping her foot like it was absurd I'd asked. "To check up on her."

Are you kidding me!? Was she not paying attention to a single fucking word?

I growled, tugging at my hair painfully and started walking after her, followed closely by Father.

The line between hostage and guest was non-existent.

When I get to the head of the stairs, I approach Alice with quiet footfalls, curious as to why she stands outside the door.

One palm placed flat against the cherrywood, she tilts her head, apprehension spelled out on my sisters face, my pace instinctively quickened towards her. She turned to me as we approached the door. She hesitates and I look into the room.

The lights are burning brightly on, but there's a bundle under the covers. Swan's daughter was completely covered by the comforter and if the shape was anything to go by, she looked to be pressing the pillows firmly to her head like she wished them to become a part of her.

I barely had enough time to register that her form was too still to be breathing, before the lights went out. The storm streaked the room in flashes of sharp light and the thunder this time clapped loud enough to rattle the windows and frame fiercely.

Isabella's face muffles further inside the cave she's created and Alice must've noticed too, because her expression moved to one of horror before she bolted forward and disappeared under the covers with Bambi. It's only then that I catch myself and prevent my feet from moving to the girl.

I stopped short, half from shock and half waiting for her to pull away from Alice like she had from me earlier but she didn't, instead I heard whispered words.

"Shh. It's only a storm, Isabella. It's outside." I could hear Alice speak soothingly to the girl. "Are you ok?"

"Hmmm…" Came Isabella's easy reply. "Sorry, this is stupid. I'm okay, really."

"You're shaking like a leaf, Isabella!" Alice calls her bullshit. She lowers her voice, speaking calmingly, quietly, hypnotically. "It's just a storm. The thunder is outside. It'll die down soon." She tried again. "It can't hurt you, you know."

If anything the storm seemed to have refueled with a vengeance from hell.

I turned to leave. I had little time for pet-fears. My sister could babysit if she wants.

My irritation was there but I didn't know what I was aggravated about exactly. I was halfway to the door when her whispered words halted my movements.

"Sure it can. It always can," Bambi responds with heavy quietness. The same voice from earlier. The one I want to figure out.

"No, it can't, silly girl," Alice speaks in hushed sweetness, "What part is scary?"

Bambi breathes in deep, holding the breath like she's storing it should she need it later, holed in a storm shelter. "It makes me remember, is all."

"Remember?" Alice asks, quietly bewildered. "Remember what, Isabella?"

The silence pierces. Bambi doesn't breathe. I strain and listen, willing to hear it and don't. She is in her storm shelter; she's created her storm cave.

"She died like this, seven years ago." Her voice is far away, a level of concentrated composure.

I stand rooted to the spot. My feet were too heavy to move. Breathing for her, I wait for her to continue. Seconds tick by and stretch on. Eventually, a quiet inhale, and again she holds it in.

"Who, Isabella?" Alice prompted in an equally soft manner.

She's quiet for a beat, undecided on whether to answer or reluctant to release her lungful of air. I lean more to the latter.

"Mamma…" She says finally, collected but not really.

Her voice was so soft that my palms began to sweat. Carlisle stood frozen next to me, our demeanors mirroring each other's.

Alice is quiet. Not sure what to say and waiting for Bambi to speak. Waiting for her to decide to expel her breath and grab another.

"It was so stormy that night, too. Horrible and cold… I hated that kind of weather. I told her I didn't want her to go… but she said she had to pick something up and that she'd be back in no time…" Her words are thunderous in their quietness, hushed like a breath. In my mind I could see her face was as composed as a mask, keeping her chin up and the words coming when she's ready. "Just a quick stop and she'd be back…"

She laughs though it's not funny. Melancholy.

Thunder claps loudly and my gaze flickers towards the offending flashes of light outside, anger slowly building. It's something I have no control of. It roars, growing with intensity before dying off into darkness that's haunted by the moaning wind and violently swinging trees.

Isabella is quiet. Father doesn't move, nor do I. Alice breathes deeply. I wonder if she knows she does it. Compensating for the air the girl beside her won't take in.

"I waited… for so long. But she never did." Bambi finally speaks again, "She couldn't." Her voice shakes and she stops once more.

Gulped air held in locked lungs for a period significantly longer than she should be able to.

"She never came…" Her voice is more put together this time.

She breathes in and holds. Now, like Alice, we know to wait.

"There was an accident. The car was under a bridge. I saw her inside…" She chokes now and breathes through her mouth, small dry hiccups coming uncontrollably, her words abrupt, forcefully tearless, wanting to end this fast, "what was left… when they were taking her out. Everything was just so burnt."

"Christ— Fuck— Oh!" Alice gasps, horrified. Instinctively, she moved and held Bambi tightly.

I couldn't believe my ears. Swan left seven years ago to bury his wife? How had he managed to keep so much under the radar? Fuck, Isabella alone had been nothing but a rumor, but the death of his wife was unheard of in totality.

Her mother was burnt to death in a car. I keep flipping that one in the air, thinking it over. A body retrieved before the eyes of his daughter and Phoenix ups and leaves… spends three years standing at her side… or searching for a killer? And after keeping Isabella a secret for so long, why bring her here now?

Bambi whimpers softly at the next blast from the storm and my feet fly forward in rage, needing to distance myself. This time my father is at my side.

"You knew?" I ask, not looking at him.

He nods in acknowledgement of the words, not as an answer. "No. Suspected."

"When'd you figure this?" I roll everything over in my mind, thinking harder.

"I only began to suspect something was amiss when no news of Renee followed Isabella."

I nod, and bounce my theory off him. "Swan disappears to straighten out his affairs and returns three years later to reestablish his place on their side of the city. Settle the waters so he can bring in his now motherless daughter into a world he safely rules." Thunder claps loudly like the devil's laughter. I shake my head, no humor in my grim smile, lips pressed tightly together in pure anger that I have nowhere to direct.

Father knows it. He thinks over my assessment for a long moment and agrees. "We may be the only ones in Chicago to know of it."

"Gotta hand it to the bastard." I press my knuckles into the wood of the hallway with satisfying pain, dragging it along the wall as we walk. I glance back to the room that holds Swans weakness.

Father follows my gaze, and nods his head once. "Everyone has their own story…" He solemnly repeated his earlier statement.

My feet halt of their own accord, refusing point blank to move. My eyes shut tightly as his words hit home. I struggled to control my breathing, mine too many, for her too few. Unconsciously breathing for her. I'd never felt a feeling this foreign and consuming before. It was worry, pain and something else, mindfuckingly impossible to place.

"Boss?"

A light shines across my face and whatever the fucker on the other end sees makes him back the fuck up fast.

My fist collides with his face, sending him flying into the wall. This is a fuckton easier. A heavy thud drowned out by thunder as he makes contact with the hard wood.

My hands go for his throat, collar bunched between angry fingers as more thunder rolls outside. "Why the fuck haven't the back-up generators kicked in as yet?"

"Du… nno-no, Boss." Fucker stammers, choking on blood out his mouth and misplaced nose. I like the color. There should be more.

Thunder claps. My anger fuels. I plant my fist in his jaw.

He hisses and groans and spits up more life juice.

Good. Fucking brilliant.

"Then instead of waving a light in my fucking face, shouldn't you be fucking find out?" The low words escape through gnawing jaw, locked and tense. My blood was boiling. Sardonic side fully out to play.

His face pales and his filth lines his brows in beads. Everything he sees is daunting. I need to break something and here he is, no answer he can provide will be right, so wisely, he remains silent. Wise fucker. My smirk feels arctic. He swallows thickly, sweat running free down his face, mixing with red.

"And don't show me your fucking mug until it is running. She's fucking terrified," I warn, grip unconsciously tightening in dangerous emphasis.

He nodded. "Got it, Boss."

Shoved into the wall and released, he sprints down the hallway as I watch with sick gratification.

"Son, calm down." Carlisle placed a hand on my shoulder and handed me his handkerchief.

I wipe my hands. In this darkness, our eyes had adjusted enough for him to see me, really see me. My rigid form refuses to relax. My body was completely ignoring my attempts to calm it down. I stood there frozen, the only movement coming from my chest as I rapidly sucked on air, furious beyond comprehension. The thunder roars louder outside, and lightning strikes, splitting the sky. My eyes dart to it with sharp precision, temper spiking.

Father is on edge, small ghosts of the Boss resurfacing. Unprepared for what we know, what he subsequently wants to be done regarding Isabella, and his fury that as insignificant an aspect as this was to us or any other family, it was yet another thing Charles had managed to keep away from the public eye.

At the next scream of thunder, my anger finally boils over.

I hear her voice, loud and terrified.

Our heads spin back toward the room. An ear-splitting crash sounds against glass, and the cold around us shatters at the scream, shrill and cutting through the hallway at speeds I don't like. Without thinking, my feet fly in the direction of the girls, as does father's.

9's leading, I shove the door open, my eyes everywhere and nowhere at once because a petite, warm body runs straight into me, colliding heavily with my chest.

She shrieks in shock, almost falling back from the impact, but my arms wrap around her automatically. Her dainty hands clutch tightly at my shirt, her trembling body stuck to me, while the swirling, wet, cold air pushes us closer together. She moves nearer, moving towards safety – me unyielding, holding her close while watching over her, gun raised even though in the darkness. I can see for sure there's nothing to shoot at.

My heart rate picked up, pounding radically at her touch.

In this moment, it was beyond me to do anything besides this. Her warmth engulfed me. Her scent of roses, lavender and freesia overwhelmed my nostrils. She was clutching my shirt so tightly, I wasn't sure if anything could pry her away. I wasn't sure if I'd let them fucking try.

She fitted with me perfectly. The only thing that was wrong with this right now was how violently she was shaking.

I could hear fast footsteps thundering against the marble floor as the men approached.

The lights flickered on. My eyes zero in on the cause of the commotion.

Fuck me. I smirk but don't let go, saying nothing just yet.

Shards of glass lined the floor along with bits of broken timber. At the center of it all was a huge tree, uprooted from the garden by the storm.

"What the fuck was that?!" Jasper calls as he and Emmett sprint towards the room, slipping their glocks back into their jeans when they see my cavalier stance.

"Everything's fine," Father answers, bringing my attention to him. Only now did I notice that he was holding onto Alice in much the same fashion as I was Isabella. "One of the trees crashed through the fucking window."

"What?" Bella asked skeptically, eyes still tightly shut, peeking up from inside my chest.

My lips tugged.

"Huh?" Alice asked as Jasper slowly pulled her towards him.

"The wind blew the tree through the window," Carlisle repeats calmly, trying to make them understand the lack of danger by motioning to the mess before us.

"A tree…" Isabella says quizzically, as she pries her head out of my chest and turns towards the scene.

"A tree." Alice repeats, sounding drunkenly fucking astounded.

The two turn towards each other slowly. They share a long look before bursting out in absolute hysterical fucking laughter.

Alice grips onto Isabella's hand causing her to let go of me and clutch onto her as they giggle fucking manically together.

The guys, guards and I stare at the two delusional females in front of us mutely. The two loons fall to the floor in a tangled mess of limbs.

I snickered. They were crazy. Fucking cute. Shit was funny. But the feeling was back as I watched her holding onto Alice, my sister, my family, on the floor, the two of them clutching their stomach as their fit continued.

I could say that I raced towards the room because of the crash. That my mob instinct took over, that my need to protect my sister drove me. It was the truth. But that wouldn't explain why I held onto her knowing it wasn't Alice or explain why I felt the need to protect Isabella at all.

As I stared down at Bambi, her cheeks hot red from laughing so hard, I understood one thing only. My hate for her father couldn't save her now.

Something else had dethroned it.

Something infinitely more powerful than the danger she faced from me as her father's enemy.

The danger of me feeling this way about her, whatever it was that this was. The all-consuming captivation she was evoking in me of all people. The danger of me caring about her, wanting her, and fucking feeling the need to protect her. The pain seeing her with anyone else would give me.

Thinking that otherworldly dangerous thought that no one could have her but me…

True danger.

~.~.~ Share some thoughts and R&R. Lots of love, your Kat;) ~.~.~

Definitions: "Clip/Burn" = Kill, "Make your bones" = Earn respect in the crew by killing someone, "Dough" = Money. "9's/Glock" = Gun.

Authors Note: Yes, yes my loves, I've manipulated reality, kick up your legs and enjoy the AU ride, it's all just to suit the initial plot. Thank you to absolutely everyone, readers old and new, I love reading every single one of your thoughts. You keep me at this writing game *hands out bouquets*.

Quick questions/replies: Sugar We're Going Down and Crossfire's Of Heaven And Hell are done so expect an update, I'm just proofreading. Heading my first project with an overseas client *pumps fist, then dies slowly* so writing is slipped in at spare moments when I'm free. My Dine and Dash loves, I've got about 30 pages of Ch14 done for you and am still writing so it'll be updated when it's finished, (D&D chapters are usually between 50 to 60 pages or thereabouts?). Requests for ILAW teasers? Sure, I'll see what I can do xoxo.

Exceptional love to my girl JustJJ, she's marvelous, I have no words, simply love her hard for all the times she spares in her also very busy life to help me make these rambles look better *throws confetti* if you liked anything it's probably her doing xoxo. TruFanV and Danibat18, I love you two as well and you 'wise' girls know why *laughs*, thank you for the responses to my predicament on Twitter *flowers*. Banners, videos, teasers etc are available on my website, I'm found on Twitter (at KatieA_Tyler). Love always and have a safe and blessed week, your Kat;)