The story deals with adult subject matter and occasional description of explicit sexual abuse. Not meant for underage readers. Read at your own peril. And oh, Twilight belongs to SM. This is just a fanfiction.
Beautiful Sorrow
"Thank you, Ms. Masen." He bade her goodbye with a genuine smile.
"Call me Elizabeth; 'Ms. Masen' makes me feel like I'm still at the office," she said as she returned his smile before closing the door.
The past hour had transformed his outlook on life in more ways than one. He had a lot to think about and volumes to re-evaluate. The path to the future that was laid out for him had shifted. He would now have to forge new passages to make room for all the changes. He knew that no matter which course he finally settled upon, Edward would always be a part of it.
Chapter 12
Carlisle, 2009
Carlisle stopped reminiscing as his car neared the downtown area. The memories had brought forth a wave of despair and pain, and he cursed under his breath in anger. He blamed Mrs. Cope for her impudence.
How dare she confront me with matters that are already crippling me from the inside! Does she think she is indispensible?
He held her responsible for spurring him on to revisit the past. He didn't want to think about his loss; he didn't want to recapitulate how he had been so thoroughly defeated and destroyed by the hands of those he loved and trusted.
When Carlisle arrived at his business headquarters in Seattle he was in a definite foul mood. It wasn't outside the norm for him these days. Being around people had become increasingly difficult for him over the past years. His wakeful moments were either spent to repel everyone around him with his icy cold exterior, or lash out with ruthless deliberation if anyone had the audacity to approach him. His mind had become the seething cauldron of a witch's brew; those with a sharper sense of self preservation knew they should keep their distance to avoid the deadly, noxious spell. However, the staff in his immediate employ had little chance of evading him at all times.
He stealthily made his way to his office located on the top floor of the high rise. People scurried away to make room for him as he quickly passed them by. Some greeted him reverently with 'good afternoon, sir', which he mostly ignored. As he entered his office, he barked at his executive assistant, Amanda Palmer, to send for David Andrews, the head of the PR division.
He had a long journey ahead of him. He had meetings scheduled in Tokyo, Berlin, and Geneva that needed his personal appearance. Before commencing the trip, he wanted to check in with his PR team to get an update on when and how his name might appear in the media in the coming weeks.
Ever since the rude awakening he'd gotten nearly twenty years ago, his Public Relations division had become a crucial part of his operation. It comprised of over one hundred and twenty personnel and occupied an entire floor of his headquarters. The department was very well funded and answered only to him. However, the term 'PR' might be misleading in the context of the task they actually performed for him. Their prime directive was to ensure his privacy and to guarantee that the name or image of him, or anyone in his family, didn't end up in tabloids or gossip magazines, as opposed to endearing him to the public for gaining the market advantage.
The PR division was manned by some of the best investigative minds in the country. They diligently gathered intel through their feelers and spies to stay atop any possible media leakage. They were exceedingly good at their job because any breach in their shield meant instant unemployment.
While waiting for David, he leafed through the new memos that had piled up in his absence. His eye caught the name scribbled on one of the documents: Ion One. A quick scan told him that the company had been losing the race against its competitors, and had failed to show a profit in the third quarter as well.
Ion One.
Another reminder he wished he didn't have to encounter today. He had bought out the entire company through a dummy corporation soon after he'd resumed full control of the Cullen business on his twenty-first birthday. It had been among his innumerable holdings ever since.
He did it in secret because he didn't want Elizabeth to know. She was too proud and surely would have left her job if she knew that not only had he bought the entire company to ensure her steady and guaranteed employment, but that he had given a raise to every single clerical employee across the board to make sure she could raise Edward comfortably on her own.
The company had been functioning more or less profitably for over two decades. Until now that is. For the longest time, it did reasonably well within the niche market of renewable energy users. It was a pioneer for its time, but was floundering now in the face of competition.
It could be saved with some basic restructuring and inflow of capital. But why should he? Elizabeth was dead, and Edward might as well be. Why was he still nursing this dead horse that had no use to him other than serving as a reminder of what a fool he had been all his life? No, he wouldn't do that; the gaping wound on his back where the cruel knife of betrayal had pierced him hadn't stopped bleeding yet.
He picked up the phone and punched a button to connect him to his Chief Operations Officer, Lyle Moreno.
"Moreno here."
"Lyle, this is Carlisle. I am looking at the memo on Ion One – the solar panel producers in Boston. I want to scrap it and cut our losses. Get rid of it; it's toxic asset. Have the papers drafted, so we can start the liquidation process after I get back from my trip," he ordered in a clipped tone that he usually used on all his employees.
"Uhh… of course sir, it will be ready, but… are you sure? Our usual policy is to monitor the output rate for a full fiscal year before pulling the plug. Ion One hasn't yet sunk to the point-"
"I have taken that into consideration. Please carry on with my orders," he spat out through gritted teeth, and hung up the phone without bothering with pleasantries.
The insolence!
He was in half a mind to send Moreno packing along with Ion One.
He rubbed his eyes with his fingers, as if he could wipe away the rage that simmered behind the lids night and day, with just a swipe.
Thankfully, David Andrews' arrival shook him out of his wrath filled musings.
The meeting didn't last long, with David quickly filling him in on the list of print and visual media he was likely to appear in in the coming weeks: a possible mention in the editorial of the next issue of the Wall Street Journal and a feature in Der Spiegel in Germany. Both met with his approval. Fortunately, there weren't any undesirables on the menu today.
Carlisle had a simple system in place for David and his team to follow: divide all public inquisitiveness in two neat piles; acceptable and undesirable. Very few publications and media outlets qualified as the first. Everything else fell into the second category. David's job was to squash the story, regardless of how harmless or small it might be, from ever appearing in the undesirable networks. Even the acceptable ones had to be screened for content after the initial approval.
Carlisle Cullen's single-minded determination to control how the media portrayed him verged on the obsessive. But he wasn't apologetic about it. Experience had taught him to be cautious; he had paid a very high price once for a careless oversight. He was hell bent on making sure that it never happened again.
As their meeting came to its conclusion, David began to gather his papers and reports to leave.
"Have a good trip, sir. I'll be sure to get in touch with you if there's anything new on the radar." He left with those parting words.
"…new on the radar."
David's choice of words shoved him back in time with a jolt. It seemed that he was experiencing a day of remembrance. Everywhere he looked and everything he heard today were sending him on a tailspin. It was David who had uttered those words five years ago when he brought 'Fresh in Forks' to his attention.
David had very apologetically revealed to him that they caught something 'new on the radar', but unfortunately it was spotted a little too late. Some two-cent, local newsletter called 'Fresh in Forks' had printed an article on him, detailing his charitable nature.
"How did you miss it?" Carlisle wasn't pleased, predictably.
"Sir, with print media, we only screen for publications with a minimum level of distribution. This one falls far short of that mark. It's strictly local. We weren't really looking for it."
"Well then lower the bar so these two-bit 'pamphlets' don't fall through the crack."
"We will, sir; we are taking this as a very important learning exercise. We will re-strategize to prevent this from happening again." David tried futilely to put a positive spin on things.
"How many copies are in the stand?" Carlisle asked.
"Just three hundred in print and quite possibly less in circulation. We are following the protocol, sir. Every unsold copy will be pulped within the week."
"Who's the reporter?"
"I don't think this was professional work, sir. It's some high school kid called Isabella Swan. I gather her father used to work for you."
Carlisle searched his memory and recalled visiting a distraught family in the hospital about three years ago. He remembered offering to pay his former security guard's medical bills. Had Jenks not made it clear to the Swans the terms and conditions of his generosity? He made a mental note to look into the matter before the end of business that day and turned his attention back to the man fidgeting before him.
"Who's in charge of the Pacific North?" However small, a breach had taken place and heads would roll.
"Uh… it's Muligan, sir, Kate Muligan. She's done great work for the team until now." David tried to defend the potential scapegoat.
"She's fired. Get a decent replacement within the month." The decisive tone made it clear that the meeting was over. "And David, don't let this happen again, I don't want to replace the entire team," he warned.
"Right, sir. It won't happen again, we'll make sure of that." David swallowed hard as he spoke and then bowed his head in reverence as he left the room.
Carlisle picked up the copy of 'Fresh in Forks' that David had left on the desk for him and leafed through it.
He buzzed Carmen, his then assistant, to get Harold Jenks for him on the phone.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Cullen, what can I do for you today?" Harold Jenk's eager voice came through the line.
"I asked you to handle an account a while back; to take care of the medical bills of one of my security guards." Carlisle went straight to the point; he rarely bothered with pleasantries. It wasted so much time, he felt.
"Yes… if I recall correctly, it was a certain Swan family? Yes, I set up an expense account for them, as per your instructions. Have there been any problems, Mr. Cullen?" Harold asked with apprehension. He had inherited the Cullens' business from his father and would hate to lose his highest paying client over some stupid oversight.
"Did you make it perfectly clear to the family that I had certain expectations with regards to them not blabbing to the media?" Carlisle asked.
"Of course, Mr. Cullen. I explained it quite thoroughly. In fact, I have it on paper too. Mrs. Swan understood and agreed to all conditions, and signed a standard non-disclosure. Has she been talking to the tabloids?"
"Something like that; their daughter wrote an article for a local newsletter. Stupid kids! I want you to handle this immediately, Jenks," Carlisle instructed.
"Yes, absolutely. The Swans are clearly in violation of the agreement they'd signed. You have very good grounds to bring legal action against them. I will file for a civil suit immediately," Harold answered enthusiastically, eager to demonstrate his usefulness in managing the Cullen personal finances.
"What? No, don't be ridiculous! What will I be suing them for? A used bedpan? Use your head, for once." He didn't hold back his annoyance at Harold's stereotypical enthusiasm for frivolous lawsuits.
Carlisle continued in a more calm fashion. "Just cut them off. And let them know in writing why they are being cut off. Close the account."
"Yes, sir. I will get around to it right away. However, there might be a few reimbursement requests that are in the works as we speak. Should I cancel those as well? Or just put a moratorium on all future requests?" Harold sought clarification.
"Uhh… go by the day the damn article came out. Go find a copy; it's called 'Fresh in Forks'. Any requests dated before that can be processed. Are we clear?"
"Perfectly, sir. I will take it from here. You have nothing to worry about." Harold quickly moved to appease his most valuable customer.
"Good." He hung up the phone with that single word; feeling reasonably satisfied with how he'd handled the problem.
He didn't know it at the time but with that decision, he had effectively triggered the destruction sequence of his life. He had no reason to suspect that inadvertently, he had just opened the door through which Isabella would walk in, and in the end, she would destroy him so completely that his remains would be unrecognizable even to himself.
AN1: You can find me on twitter: ToTheDreaming
AN2: One last time! I am nominated in the Underdog segment (#22 on the voting page) of the Shimmer Awards. I'd be immensely grateful if you chose to vote for me. Or, for someone you think deserves it. Either way, you'll make someone's day. That's good karma! So, please vote.
While I'm at it, I humbly request you to consider my friends as well:
BellaScotia (Secrets and Lies), Mehek18 (Best Banner), Bronzehyperion (Bring on the Wonder), BelleDean (Crash), Tkegl (Beyond Time), Jackson's Cupcake/LadyTazz7 (Control, Secret Lovers, and Ladies & Liquor), KzintiKiller/TwiHusband (Wish Granted), Dooba (Torn) and lt90 (Uptown Realty).
Here's the link: http : / shimmerawards . blogspot . com/ (remove the space)
AN3: Story rec-Wish Granted by KzintiKiller/TwiHusband.
Summary: Jacob gets his fondest wish. A world without magic, vampires, or Edward Cullen. The world in which Bella Swan is free to be his soul mate. Warning: NOT Team Jacob territory.
It's a really short OS that should be on the curriculum of every Twi read list! I kid you not! Please read and vote for it at Shimmers!
AN4: Thank you lulabelle98, for making all this readable. I couldn't do it without you. Please read her story The Long Walk Home.
Thanks to Tkegl, kimbo06, karebear8706, Dooba, Shattered1025, KrazyK85_, Twinerdforlife, jneag2071, LauraHilary, I2want2knowu, Tina, and lulabelle98 for WCs. You ladies rock! They are all esteemed authors. Please check out their stories.
Thank you WutheringBites for validating my story at Twilighted. I am most grateful.
I am thankful to all those who read, reviewed, alerted and fav-d my story. Kindly review and let me know what you think. It kinda helps...