I'm sorry I'm late, and I'm sorry it's so short. but please hang in there. It's a new concept for this story, but it'll make sense as it goes. please review.

I awoke in a luxurious suite, dressed in lace and white. My heart was beating fast, and I couldn't feel my fingers. There was a band aid on the crease of my arm, the place where doctors usually put the IV. I tried to remember what happened, but my brain didn't register anything. Nothing.

The only thing, though, was that I couldn't take off the tiny titanium ring that was place tightly on the middle finger of my right hand.

My nails were chewed off. They were all in a disarray of chipped nail varnish and unevenness.

I grimaced, and hugged the blankets tighter to me.

I was naked.

I shook the blankets off of me. Even though I wasn't ashamed of my body, I couldn't remember giving permission to anyone so that they could look, or even touch. . .

I yawned, and then stood up, finding two outfits. One was a pair of jeans, a t shirt, and sneakers. The other was a mid thigh length red dress. I mixed and matched, choosing in the dress over the jeans, using the heels rather than the sneakers, and the array of jewelry and accessories.

Did I live here? I must if everything fit me so well.

Who was I even? Was I some sort of royalty? Judging by the room, I wouldn't have the idea past it. It seemed I was important. Perhaps?

I took advantage of the mirror across the bedroom.

I had piercings, one in my belly button and two in my bottom lip. I had a tattoo on my groin, E.A.C.

I would think I would remember getting a tattoo.

Yet the only thing that came to mind was "es amor cierto" which was Spanish for "it's true love".

Was I in love with someone? And if I was, with who?

I sighed frustrated that I didn't know anything. I walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Everything looked used here? How long had I lived here? Did I have parents? Did I have siblings? Apparently I was married judging by the rock on my ring finger. Did I have children? Was I a mother? Oh shit. What were their names . . . ?

I couldn't even remember my own children?

When I stood under the water in the shower, I cried. I was lost inside my own world and I didn't even know the way out, the way to sanity.

I cleaned up and then towel dried my hair, getting dressed in the outfit I had chosen before. I looked very beautiful. My face was familiar, but I couldn't completely recognize it. And that scared me a little bit.

I walked over to the door, opening it. I met a set of stairs, taking them down to the next floor. It was an elegant house, and I was repulsed by it. Too ostentatious for my liking. But I must have liked it if I lived here.

"Good morning, m' lady," a man in a tux said as I walked past him.

I nodded my head. "I'm sorry, I seem to be off this morning. Can you answer a few questions?" I asked him.

He nodded and I smiled. "Okay," I said. "Who am I?"

"You're Mistress Isabella, married to Sir James Dwyer. You live here in Middlesex England," he said.

"And my age?"

"Eighteen, I so believe, Mistress."

"So I don't have any kids?"

He shook his head. "Although you and Sir James have discussed it. It would be possible that you are pregnant," he said. I smiled. It sounded pleasant, like I was leading a very wonderful life.

"And do I have a job?"

He shook his head. "You have no need for one, seeing as how your parents left you quite a fortune," he said. Huh. I was rich. That could come in handy.

"And you are?"

"Just a hireling. My name is Victor. I man the door."

"Oh. Thank you so much, Victor," I said with a smile.

"You are very welcome, mistress."

I kept walking on, until I found myself in the living room area. Two people were sitting there on the plush sofas, one girl with fiery red hair, the other person a man, with long blonde hair tied into a pony tail. When he looked up at me, his eyes twinkled like he saw love. So that must have been my husband. Huh.

He was handsome; in a clean cut prep way. I was immediately proud of myself for not choosing anyone that was gaudy and ugly.

He stood up and kissed my lips, and though I didn't recoil, the kiss was wrong. Very wrong. And the touch of his hands was rough. Disgusting.

Everything was wrong. I wasn't meant to be here. This is not where I was supposed to be, and I knew that.

"Morning, baby," I said to him a sexy whisper, so I didn't alert him that anything was wrong.

"Good morning, my beautiful, sexy wife."

I smiled, but I internally rolled my eyes.

The girl stood up and she hugged me. I pretended to know her.

"How've you been?" I asked.

"Oh, you know," she said.

No. I didn't. But I nodded and told her the news.

"Oh, Victoria, tell her the news," James said.

"Oh, of course," Victoria said. "Dmitri and I are moving into the property next door," she said all excited. She looked kind of young to be married. She looked about the same age I did. But I ignored it. Maybe we all just got married at young ages in England.

"So I was wondering if you'd like to come out for lunch with me today," Victoria asked.

I nodded. I could "feel a vibe" from her, if that made sense. She was familiar to me.

As I smiled, I noticed a scratch mark on her neck, something that looked nasty and harsh. I ignored it, not wanting to push a subject I'd probably touched upon already.

And with that, Victoria and I left for lunch. James gave me a goodbye kiss, and Victoria and I climbed in a car that someone had sent for us, and we were off.

EPOV

An entire two weeks had passed since that fucking bastard had taken Bella. And I hadn't slept an hour. Not even a minute. I couldn't. Not when I kept remembering all the vile shit he'd done to her in the past. Raped her, staved her, abused her.

Seth was missing, and no one knew where Bella was. You'd think since they gave her that fucking tracker, I'd have her back already. But no. It was "more complex" that I thought it would be.

Alice had stayed by my side every chance she got, unless she was off concentrating, trying to have a "premonition." She never got one.

I was unsure of everything now.

What if Bella because a victim of that Stockholm Syndrome shit, and actually fell in love with her captor? What if we never found her? What if she actually was happy wherever the hell she was?

"Found her!" Leah screeched from the other room. Alice yanked me up from the sofa and then in the matter of seconds, we were in the same room as Leah was; Bella's father and her working the equipment.

"She's in Middlesex England, at a little bistro," Leah said.

"They let her go?"Alice said.

"Sometimes victims get amnesia and they don't remember any of their previous life. Lies are told, and a new life gets created. Not to mention the fact that it is so easy to create things she would need, like birth certificates, and ID's. All she has to do is believe," Leah sighed.

I looked at Alice.

Alice shook her head. "She has a freaking tattoo of your initials, for crying out loud," Alice said.

The chief turned around and eyed me with a death glare. "My daughter has what?" he said.

I didn't say anything.

"Chief," Alice soothed, "it's nothing big. And no one can see it," she said. "Don't worry. And I think a tattoo is the least of your worries, don't you think?"

BPOV

"So, I'm pregnant. And it's a boy. Dmitri and I want to name it Marcus."

"That's nice," I lied.

She laughed. "You were always a horrible liar."

I laughed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied."

"It's okay. I hate that name. It's hideous."

I laughed even harder.

I learned a lot from Victoria.

I was born in France and then my parents moved here. James and I had been best friends since I was born, and his parents had taken me in when my parents died. James and I had fallen in love then, married once I was out of high school. My parents were very successful in business, so they were wealthy, and I had access to all the money I could contemplate.

After lunch, Victoria and I had gone shopping at boutiques. We bought all sorts of things, things she said I normally liked. They all looked very girly and disgusting, but I didn't object. It was my life. Maybe I would get my memory back soon, and then I would really like what I had bought. Maybe.

We went back home a few hours later, and James was in his office, looking over papers. He smiled up at me when I walked in. I sauntered over to him, very aroused all of a sudden and plopped myself onto his lap. His hands went to m hips, picking me up so I could toss a leg over and straddle him. He was aroused too, the evidence rubbing me through my jeans.

"Isabella you do things to my body, no other woman has ever," he said. I smiled.

Only it seemed weird a little.

But what was sex, you know? This was my husband. And it would seem out of the ordinary to request a condom if we had been trying to have a baby. . . So I just wnet with it.

I kissed James' lips, prying his mouth open with my own. I had expected a mind blowing kiss, but instead, I got very okay. That was it. It was an okay kiss.

SO maybe he was a bad kisser and very good as sex. It could happen.

He pulled off my dress, moving his lips over my bra covered breasts, pulling the cups of my bra down so that my boobs fell out. His licked and kissed and nipped such a wonderful feeling.

I ran my hand down my stomach, unbuttoning my jeans and reaching inside, stroking a sensitive spot I had there. I moaned his name, and his hand flew on my ass, gripping so that I grinded into his erection.

During the midst of it, I managed to unbuckle his jeans and free his cock.

Which wasn't as big as I anticipated. It was just. . . . there. Very average sized, if not smaller. He had stripped me of my jeans, and now he was guiding himself to my entrance.

Please god. Let my husband give me good sex. Please.

I moved a little, getting used to the feeling of a somewhat emptiness. And I realized . . . I was going to have to fake this.

So I moaned a little here and there, reaching down to rub my clit, while I rode James.

I married a complete nit wit at sex. What the hell?

I knew I was a nymphomaniac, completely and wholly. I craved sex all the time, and god had given me the stamina and the sustainability to go on for hours. I knew that. But why was this so horrible. Surely, I wasn't getting enough from James . . . Was I having an affair? That had to be-

He was coming. Fuck . . .

I clenched around him, slamming my body harder, moaning a little bit louder for effect, fake panting as I came down from my "high". James was smiling, so I smiled in return.

"That was amazing baby. I hope we get pregnant," I said to him. Yeah, so I would have to have anymore sex with you, you lousy lay.

"Me too, sweetie," he said.

I stood up off of him, walking out of his office without a stitch of clothes on. This was more like me. I liked to be naked. Sue me. I sat on the sofa in the living room, flipping on the television. A romantic movie was playing, so I watched it, fascinated that everyone had English accents. It was so hot.

But I was tired, so I went upstairs, locking the bedroom door behind me, so that no one walked in on me fucking myself right after I fucked my husband.

I lie on my back, spent after touching myself, looking at the ceiling's pattern. I was making out shapes and things, just thinking about my life. This wasn't me. I knew it wasn't. So what in the hell was?

Okay. so it wasn't that bad. and there was no cliffhanger. So please review. I want at least ten reviews. It's not that hard to click the button.

I love you guys, jess