[Disclaimer] Everything Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer

[A/N] Thanks for reading and reviewing my little Rosella fic here. I appreciate your support so much. Without your love for my stories, I wouldn't be here.

Today's update is dedicated to my readers mooray and Wolf-Babe125.

**46**

"You're nervous. Aren't you?" Edward asked Bella who was chewing on a wisp of her hair. Her nerves were blank. She had barely slept last night. When she had eventually managed to fall asleep, nightmares had tortured Bella again.

"I'm fine." She lied to Edward. "Just a little excited about everything. I've never been to court before. Have you?"

He sipped on the rest of his water, before he crunched the plastic cup between his fingers and tossed it into the trash standing a bit further away from them.

Bella cringed when she felt Edward's icy hand on hers a moment later. "Thank you." He stated. "For all your help in the last months,"

Pulling away her hand from him, Bella shook her head no. "You always tell me I have crappy theories."

"I don't exactly use the word crappy." Edward stated. "You're too emotional, but maybe that's the most helpful aspect of it all."

The door to the courtroom was pulled open and a bald-headed man announced that they were ready to get started now.

Bella's legs felt weak. She hated that she couldn't manage to suppress her nervousness any better. She wanted to be strong. She needed to be strong for Rose who was sitting between her two brothers in the first row. When she saw Bella her lips twitched into a ghost-like smile. It didn't reach her eyes.

Everybody rose from their seats when the judge entered the room. His voice was sharp like a razorblade when he spoke up.

"Good Morning, Ladies and Gentlemen. This is case 1987-N-0913 – the State of Washington against Mr. Aro Volturi. Court usher, you may bring the defendant in now."

Bella could see how Rosalie and Alice, who was sitting on Emmett's other side, both grabbed his hands in their smaller ones.

The man, Aro, was wearing the ugly orange-colored overall of the state prison with the same arrogance like he would one of his designer suits. His hair was greasy and combed back, tied into a ponytail in his neck. He smirked, a smile much like that of a shark getting ready to attack its prey. Bella felt the skin on her forearm rising into goose bumps.

"Raise your hand, Mr. Volturi." The judge instructed. "Do you swear to tell the truth and only the truth, so help you God."

"I swear," Volturi mumbled, his snake-like eyes moving over to where the children of Officer Jasper Hale were sitting. The blonde woman between Lucy Hale's sons was pretty. Lucy had been pretty too. Aro had a preference for beautiful things and loved to surround himself with them.

"Mr. Volturi," the prosecutor said after an awkward moment of silence. "You have decided to defend yourself today. How do you pledge? Guilty or not guilty?"

Volturi's voice was smooth like soft butter when he spoke up again. "Not guilty, what else? I'm an innocent, tax-paying business man."

The prosecutor coughed and flipped quickly through the folder in his hands. "Well, we'll see about that, Mr. Volturi. Now, why don't you tell us a little bit about your…business?"

Volturi grinned. Then he played around on the wedding band on his left hand. "I buy and sell pretty things, since when is that a crime?"

"Mr. Volturi, the accusations concerning you and your so-called business are pretty severe too." The judge said. "Human trafficking, dealing with child pornography and the murder of a police officer aren't trivial offense."

Aro Volturi folded his hands together. "I absolutely agree with you on this, Your Honor. But as I said before, I'm innocent as new born baby. The only crime I've ever committed was forgetting my wedding anniversary."

"Mr. Volturi, your private life and how you handle it, is not on stake today." The prosecutor snarled. "How about we start with your alibi for the night when Officer Hale was killed. Do you have one?"

Again, Aro Volturi grinned. "I spent that night, like I have spent Thanks Giving every night the last fifty years of my life. Home at my mother's house, together with over twenty family members that can testify I was there."

The prosecutor scrawled a note on a piece of paper and placed it on the judge's desk. "Do you have any witnesses that aren't related to you?"

"There's the housekeeper and my driver," Volturi stated with a self-satisfied grin.

"I see." The prosecutor said. "Well, why do you think, Mrs. Lucy Hale accused you of these horrible crimes, when you are….newbornly innocent as you put it."

Volturi cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about the woman's tragic death. Depression and other mental illnesses are terrible things."

"Objection." The prosecutor snapped. "Mr. Volturi is making assumptions about Mrs. Hale's health condition that he can't know about."

"Sustained," the judge mumbled. "The jury will ignore the defendant's last statement." Then he turned to Mr. Volturi. "We're going to hear the first witness now."

Bella grabbed the frame of the empty chair in front of her when Royce King was guided into the room. There was a yellowish bruise on his left cheek and a bit of dried blood on the corner of his mouth. His eyes looked dead when he lifted his hand and whispered to speak the truth.

"Mr. King," the Judge started. "Are you familiar with Mr. Volturi?"

"More than I'd like to be, Your Honor."

"I can imagine that, Mr. King. How do you like it in jail so far?" the prosecutor asked in a teasing tone. "They aren't exactly nice to guys like you in there. Are they?"

"I'm here to witness against, Mr. Volturi." Royce stated, his bottom lip quivering a bit. "He's the true villain here."

"If I were you, Mr. King." The prosecutor stated. "If I were you, Mr. King, I wouldn't use the term villain this loosely."

"I never killed anyone." Royce said. "And I'm getting therapy now for my….condition."

I'd like to give you a therapy session with a baseball bat, Bella thought, clenching her hands into fists. Royce's own process was going to be held in a couple of days. He was probably hoping to get a milder sentence by agreeing to testify against this bastard Volturi.

"How did you and Mr. Volturi meet each other?" The prosecutor asked. "Are you friends with him?"

Royce coughed. "Not exactly, Your Honor. Mr. Volturi and I both have an eye for beautiful things."

"Sick pig!" someone yelled from the backside of the courtroom. "Castrate him!" someone else suggested loudly.

There was a loud tumult for a couple of minutes before the Judge called everyone to silence again.

"Now, what kind of business were you and Mr. Volturi doing together?" the prosecutor asked Royce.

"We met at a beauty contest for preteens a couple of years ago. He…," Royce hesitated for a minute. "Mr. Volturi caught me making pictures of the girls while they were putting on their outfits."

The prosecutor nodded his head. "Mr. Volturi, do you remember meeting Mr. King there?"

"No, Sir, I don't. I have never been to any kind of silly beauty contest in my entire life."

A smile washed over the prosecutor's face. "Are you sure about that, Mr. Volturi? Isn't it kind of strange that, both, Mr. King and Mrs. Hale both insisted that's where they met you?"

The man cleared his throat. "Jury, Your Honor, please open the folders I've presented you with and open it up on page four, evidence two B."

Shaking his head, the judge flipped to the requested page. "Little Miss Yellow Texas Pearls Contest – hosted by Volturi Jewelry Enterprises."

Volturi shrugged his shoulders. "That doesn't prove I was there."

"Right, Mr. Volturi." The prosecutor agreed. "This brings me to exhibit 3 B – on the next page in the folder. There we have pictures of you, crowning the lucky winner of the contest. Now, does that help to refresh your memory?"

"It was a long time ago." Volturi stated. "You can't expect me to remember everything I've done in my life."

"Oh, we don't do that." The prosecutor stated sharply. "Now, let's get back to the witness. Mr. King, tell us about the offer that Mr. Volturi made to you on the day you met him?"

"Well," Royce whispered, speaking up a bit louder when he continued. "Like I said, he caught me making the pictures and then he called me a freaking sicko. I told him, I wasn't. That there are many men with the same…preferences."

Bella could feel her stomach cramping. When she looked over to Rosalie, she noticed how the Blonde was staring down on the floor, trying to avoid eye-contact with Royce at all costs.

"What happened after that, Mr. King?" the judge asked, wiping his forehead with a tissue.

"He asked me, whether someone like me would be willing to pay money for pictures of half-dressed girls and I told him yes, probably a lot. That's how the whole thing started."

"Started what?" the prosecutor tried to dig deeper. "Did he make you an offer to work for him?"

"Kind of, Sir, kind of. I was more of a regular costumer of his…services."

"What kind of service are we speaking about?" the judge asked.

"Mr. Volturi started selling pictures of young girls under the counter in his jewelry shop. Oh Sir, he only had the most beautiful girls pose for the pictures."

Volturi coughed a bit louder and longer than necessary. "I think it's obvious that Mr. King here is a sick-minded pedophile. What he's trying to do here is trying to distract from the fact that those disgusting little pictures were found at his place. Not in my shops."

"Because, I stored them there for you," Royce responded. "You know that better than I do."

"No further questions," the prosecutor murmured. "Mr. King, they will bring you back to your cell now. Maybe we need to hear you again at a later point."

Royce was brought outside and Bella could see how Rosalie seemed to relax a tiny bit in her seat.

The next witness was called up and Bella recognized the shop-assistant from the jewelry store in Port Angeles.

"Raise your right hand, Mr. Demitrios," the judge told the man. "Do you swear to tell the truth, only the truth, so help you God?"

"Yes, Your Honor, I swear."

"Good, Mr. Demitrios." The prosecutor began his questioning. "So, you're one of Mr. Volturi's employees. Is that correct?"

Demitrios nodded his head. "Yes, Sir, I've been working for Mr. Volturi for over twenty years now."

"I see," the prosecutor said. "Did Mr. Volturi ever make you sell child pornography in the shop?"

"No, Sir, of course not."

"But Mr. King told us something else." The prosecutor cleared his throat. "Your Honor, Jury, please flip onto page seven in your folders. Exhibit 4 A."

A self-pleased grin flashed over the prosecutor's face. "These credit card bills state that Mr. King has been a regular costumer in your shop in Port Angeles."

"We have many clients every day." Demitrios stated, shifting awkwardly back and forth on his chair. "Maybe Mr. King bought presents for his girlfriend?"

"Seems like she has a preference for pearls." The prosecutor assumed. "Because that's the only kind of jewelry he ever bought. Pearl-earrings, pearl—bracelets, pearls over pearls."

"We sell all kinds of jewelry." Demitrios told the prosecutor. "Since when is it a crime to sell and buy pearls?"

"Page eight now, Your Honor." The prosecutor instructed in a polite voice. Then he placed a box on the table in front of Demitrios. "Do you recognize those pearls?"

"Yes, those are some of ours."

"Are those freshwater pearls?"

"No, those are fake ones. See, this little certificate there? We're not hiding anything from our customers."

"You are not here today because of how you handle things with your so-called costumers." The judge stated, looking up from the folder.

"Of course, Sir," Demitrios murmured. "I'm here to help Mr. Volturi. He's innocent."

"Mr. Demitrios, can you tell me the price difference between real pearls and fake ones?" The prosecutor asked Demitrios whose face turned paler and paler. "And if those are fake ones, why would Mr. King be so stupid to pay the price of real ones instead?"