A bit of a flashback coming up in this chapter, and some of Isabella's backstory is coming over the next couple of chapters.

Everything hurt.

My entire body felt as though it was on fire and my head was throbbing. There was a dull roaring in my ears, mingling with an unpleasant ringing.

To be blunt, I felt like shit.

I forced my eyes open, a Herculean task in and of itself as my body wanted nothing more than to sleep and sleep and sleep. But, finally my heavy lids lifted and I looked around the room. I didn't recognise it which was a concern. One thing I could usually rely on was at least recognising the hell I was forced to live in. Not knowing where I was concerned me.

As I looked around the room the first thing I noticed was that there were no windows. The walls were concrete, perhaps underground. I know that the club had an underground storage area behind one of the bars, but I was never required to restock so hadn't needed to enter it. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if Mr Cullen had other rooms hidden down there. I was led on a simple, small bed with a hard, thin mattress, no sheets. There was a door on the wall to my left, with a sink and small mirror in the far corner. The wall to my right was entirely made up of mirrored glass which was somewhat disconcerting.

I attempted to sit up and swing off the bed to a standing position, hoping to find the room unlocked. I was, however, frozen by the excruciating pain I felt when I attempted to move my right leg. I screamed out at the searing pain and looked down to see a thick white bandage wrapped around my upper thigh. Then the memories came back. Being pinned to that godawful table, held in a vice grip by those two men while I struggled in vain with all my might. Seeing that blonde woman approaching, vicious grin on her face and brandishing a glowing iron stick like a fucking offering to the Gods. Then the pain. Probably the worst pain I'd ever felt, and my body was certainly not unused to suffering. The instant burn as the red hot branding iron connected with the sensitive skin of the inside of my thigh. The hiss of my flesh burning on contact. I could even hear my own scream, piercing and unfamiliar even to myself. Then; nothing. I must have blacked out from the agony. Thank god.

I pulled at the bandage, desperate to see the damage that had been inflicted. I finally got the bandage off to reveal a large square of gauze. As I tried to remove it the pain flared through my leg again as it pulled at the damaged skin. I tried attacking the problem from a different angle but the gauze was stuck fast to the wound. Fucking idiots. Whoever did this really wasn't helping me, unless they were actually planning to torture me more. I wouldn't put it past the freaks at these fucking torture parties to actually do just that. Finally I decided that my only option was to soak the gauze and hope for the best. I hobbled stiffly to the sink and using the cup sat on the edge, managed to get enough water onto the bandage for it to start soaking. I made my way back to the bed to sit for a few minutes in the hopes that it might loosen on its own for me to remove it. I knew that putting water on a severe burn was almost certainly going to lead to an infection but one thing I could say in Mr Cullen's favour was that he had never withheld medical attention when I'd needed it. Although it was rarely necessary, in emergencies he had done what was needed – such as rushing me to his doctor friend's surgery when my appendix was on the verge of rupturing. The hasty surgery had probably saved my life. And the doctor who performed it was probably once again in attendance tonight to witness my humiliation and torture. These people are seriously fucked up.

Then an awful thought dawned on me. In a few days I would no longer belong to Mr Cullen, I was to be sold to James Volturi. I did not expect him to hold much regard for my health. He'd probably just let one of his clients chop my fucking leg off! Though the idea sprang into my head as a jest, knowing that it could very well be the truth made me feel sick to my stomach. I would kill myself. I had made my mind up the day Mr Cullen had told me of his plans, I would rather die than end up with that man and once in his possession, I would take my own life at the first opportunity.

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I had been serving dinner for Mr Cullen and Esme. She was allowed to take her meals with him, albeit from her knees at his side, fed pieces of food from his hands, but still, at least she got regular food. I found myself jealous of the strange affection Mr Cullen had for Esme. And because of that, I resented her. He was not so harsh on her, I was the one punished for her wrongdoings, my "inability" to train Esme being the reason cited for such punishments. He would also beat or rape me as a way of blackmailing Esme. He would never hurt her, but I knew she hated to see me hurt – Mr Cullen knew this too. So, I resented her. My life was never good with Mr Cullen, but since her arrival it had got exponentially worse. I hated Esme. The realisation hit hard, and I felt sick for even thinking it, but it was the truth even if I did try to deny it.

It was during this meal as I stood quietly in the corner whilst Mr Cullen fed Esme his lemon tart dessert, that he brought up my sale out of the blue.

"You will be going to your new owner as of next week Isabella…." His voice was calm and even, as if discussing the weather, not my fate.

"Edward?" I questioned quietly. Mr Cullen's eyes immediately snapped to mine and he smirked.

"You would like that Isabella, for Masen to buy you?"

"I… I don't have an opinion on it Mr Cullen… I just… assumed…" I stuttered as I felt myself turn beet red. The truth was, Edward Masen was the first man I'd felt physically attracted to since Jacob – something I thought would never again be possible. He may be a disgusting pervert like the rest of the men who frequented Volterra, but at least he didn't make my skin crawl like I had become accustomed to.

"Sure you don't…" he laughed, "and no… Mr Masen wouldn't agree to the deal I proposed so an offer has been made from another party… James Volturi."

I gasped in a breath, my heart immediately racing in panic.

James Volturi…. why?

I couldn't help the pleading look I shot Mr Cullen as the tears welled in my eyes. He sighed.

"I know Isabella… I know how you feel about him but… you have to go somewhere, I cant keep you and Masen isn't as interested as I thought, obviously…. I felt sure he'd contact me to negotiate…." He trailed off.

James Volturi was all too familiar to me. He was the very reason I was in this position to start with…

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Sorry it's a short chapter, my brain is mush today and that's the best I could do! More to come ASAP I hope.