"There's something she doesn't know about. A secret he doesn't show about."

—I'm Indebted to You, Lana

EPOV

Fury.

Deep in her eyes. The hateful stare. Bold and determination.

Damn, did she know she was much prettier when she had that hatred in her eyes? Little girl was planning her revenge. And I couldn't help but waiting on it.

She was fire.

Burning my skin without touching it. And I was left wanting more every single time.

Oh, how much I wished I had killed her that day, when we first met.

I looked down on her laying there, a mess and hardly breathing while she asked that question. That fucking particular question.

Are you satisfied?

Well, fuck. I had never been this stunned before. Her tone was flat and uninterested, but the words. Hell, the words were mocking. As if she knew the truth.

Edward?

Are you satisfied?

Was I? Was I fucking satisfied? How dared she asking me this question? Besides, who in the right mind called me by first name? Only my closest ones could call me Edward. Who the hell did she think she was? She was no one here, and more importantly, she had no power for fucks sake. This was my home, my territory. Hell, I owned this freaking city. Then, there she was, questioned my satisfaction?

She really had a death wish.

If only, I could do it sooner. Or continued what I had started.

Maybe I should have pushed her down in the freaking bathtub until she got no breath left. Believe me I could. Her girly fight was nothing against my strength. That would be so easy. I should have ended her, shutting her mouth forever. I should have…fuck. But this didn't seem right. All the wicked plans toward her seemed so fucking wrong. Strange. I felt like I was weakened. And damn if this shit didn't scare me.

Yeah so, this was so far a new experience for me. I had never been like this before. Because no way in hell I tolerated shits. Usually when something went wrong, I would have it fixed by the end of the day. No freaking compromise. There was no time for sorry in this kind of business. You made a mistake, you were out. That was my rule. And that was why I was on top of my game. But then all of a sudden…soft spot. A weakness. I didn't know how and why, but clearly, I was damned.

It wasn't like I had a crush on her or something. Fuck, I didn't even like her. With that purple grayish hair? Ew, no, not my fucking type. But I didn't say she was ugly or disgusting, though. Hell, I admitted she was kinda attractive. And cute? Yes, probably because she was so young. Early twenties, I guessed. That was where her guts came from.

God, I hated her.

I bet the feeling was mutual.

I left her the way she was at the bathroom, quitting the basement and up to the ground floor. Paul stood from his seat when he saw me coming. I gave him a nod before leaving the warehouse.

As soon as I drove away from here, my phone rang. It was Jamie.

It'd better be good news. If not, I would fucking end him. Cousin or not.

"Please tell me you got the fucker." I said as soon as I pressed answer. He had the nerve to chuckle. Of course.

"Looks like someone has tested your patience this morning, brother."

"Every fucking day." I grunted.

"Who is it? Jacob's girl?" he asked, interested.

"Why are you calling?" I carefully changed the object. And I swore I could almost feel him grinning on the other side.

"Aw, can't wait to meet her." Asshole.

Didn't he know this root of the problem was all his fault? This was why we were so much different. Jamie was too fucking laid back to the point of careless. I mean, fuck, the position he had been given in the family wasn't a place for playing around for fucks sake. He took care of the flow of all the illegal drugs in the freaking Florida. And now one of his men was stealing from us and slipping away to Mexico. Freaking fantastic. No, it actually wasn't about the money. Money was easy to get here. It was about disloyal and disrespect.

Of course this shit angered me. I fought teeth and nails to get my family to where it was now. To get back the respect, the power, and the recognition in mafia world. Hell, we had been through so much back then. Dark days full of betrayal and distrust. But we made to get up and passed the storm. Marking back our territory and ruling the entire Florida like we should. I didn't try to brag, but if it wasn't for me, this family would have been extinct.

"Don't waste my time." I grunted, speeding up my Ferrari. As if I didn't have enough problems in my hand already…

"Scary." He mocked. I swore I would fucking kill him someday. My hand was a second away to hang up, when he said, "I just want to tell you that Jas and Em spotted him in Tijuana." Well, this was new. "They reported he is now associated with Alvarrez gang."

Alvarrez? How interesting. It was a new gang in Mexico, but filled by old faces in drug scene.

"Do you think he stole for them?"

"Possibly."

I had meetings in the entire day. All business-related, the usual boring stuff, like gun shipment, drug smuggling, high-end prostitution, I oversaw everything. And by the evening I had dinner with my father, Edward Masen Sr. The real don of this family. Yet what his lazy ass contributed was nothing. My father had lost his touch of leadership since my mother's death. He took it the hard way. I could feel the changes in him. Still, right now I was on my way to have dinner with him and his new wife. The sixth one.

What was her name again? Miranda? Melanie?

My step-mother greeted me with that sickeningly huge smile. The teeth were all white. Her face was a bit different. And her tits were impossibly bigger than the last time I met her. Well, had got new plastic surgery appointments, mother?

"You're late." She pouted. I gripped her upper arms, preventing her to kiss my cheek.

This was disgusting. Her age couldn't be more than twenty-five. Which meant she was about ten years younger than me.

"Where's my father?" I asked instead, looking around the massive dining room.

"Waiting for you in his office." Still pouted as if it looked cute on her. Gross.

I walked upstairs to his office I knew too well only to find him sitting behind his desk with a scotch in hand. "Dad?"

"Oh, Junior! What an honor to have you in my home." He said with rich of sarcasm. "How's business?"

"Hectic." I replied, approaching him to sit on the seat in front of him.

"Of course." He mocked, sipping his drink.

"How are you, Dad?"

"Very good."

"Yeah, I can actually see that." Sarcastic. This was always how we took the conversation. We were cut off by my ringing phone. I frowned at the caller id. It was Paul. "Excuse me, Dad." I said before answering the call. "What's wrong?"

"Hey, Boss. I don't know if I should be concerned or not, but I think her condition is getting worse." He said carefully. Was he talking about Bella?

"What do you mean?" I kept my tone as neutral as possible.

"She looks pretty sick. And she's still unconscious here on the bathroom floor." Worry abruptly overtook me. I didn't know where the feeling came from. It just appeared out of nowhere. Damn it. Why the fuck did I care?

"Pulse?"

"Weak."

Fuck.

And without a second thought, I instructed him. "Bring her to my house. And call Carlisle."

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