Dear lovely readers: Finally, I've started posting this story after months of plotting and writing! As mentioned in the prologue, I wanted to pre-write as much as I could to provide you with regular updates and...well, I'm just so excited, I can't wait any longer to share this story with you!

I promise not to have author's notes before each chapter (boooring), but just a few things I want to share with you: All chapters will be titled after a song from the excellent Twilight Saga soundtracks and feature lyrics from that song appropriate to the chapter (meh, something different, right?). I'm also very visual so pics, videos, teasers, etc. for this story will be posted on my Future Imperfect blog on Tumblr ( .com).

Special shout-outs to my beautiful, hardworking, international FI team: RosaBella75, Ashling92 and RowanMoon. I love you all so much!

All Twilight characters belong to SM. Dominic belongs to me (yeah, I wish).

Chapter 1 - Neutron Star Collision

- I was searching...You were on a mission


September, 2006 **Wakarusa, Indiana

The suitcases were packed and waiting next to the neatly-made twin bed. On the bedside table, the never-used passport sat ready with other important documents, including a one-way ticket, an employment confirmation letter, and most of the cash advance he received which he had safely converted to traveler's checks.

He took a deep breath gathering determination as he ran his fingers through his short dark hair – a habit that revealed his nervousness. He had never ventured this far from home before.

But it was time. At twenty-four years old, he needed find his own path. Besides, there was nothing in this small Indiana farming town worth staying for.

"Dominic!" An anxious voice called his name from downstairs, "You're going to miss your plane."

Well, maybe she was worth staying for...

"Be right down, mom."

Dominic knew his mother was happy for him. Happy he had found a place to practice and be praised for his artistic talents. But without him, Dominic knew she'd be alone. She hadn't been seriously involved with a man since he destroyed her heart.

"He" being Dominic's father.

But "father" was hardly a suitable word to describe the man who drifted into town and swept Dominic's mother, Trisha, right off her feet. To the just-barely-a-woman of eighteen years old, a mysterious handsome wanderer who promised to stay by her side and love her passionately was just the stuff youthful fantasies were made of - well, at least when you grow up in a place where everyday bland Midwestern day blends into the next.

According to granddad, the more he insisted Trisha stay away from the "vagabond," the tighter she clung to her unique find. Trisha had believed her dreams came true when a baby made three and the almost family moved into a small two-bedroom home not far from the town square.

On a humid July day, as friends and family waited past sunset in the postage-stamp sized backyard to celebrate Dominic's fourth birthday, it became apparent he had drifted out of Trisha's life just as unexpectedly as he had drifted in, leaving her to struggle as a minimum-wage, unwed single mother.

Trisha was unwilling to crawl back to her parents and suffer the humiliation of her father saying, "I told you so", and worked odd jobs to keep her tiny house and raise Dominic on her own terms. She insisted on bringing him up right, raising a boy who knew how to treat others with respect, loyalty, honesty, and love – unlike the man who deserted her.

These lessons in how to live right included attending church at least once a week. Surprisingly, it was there, in the simple beauty of God's house, Dominic found his calling.

Even as a small child, the brilliance of the sun shining through the stained glass windows took his breath away. The panes told vivid stories, conveying with such clarity the human emotions of grief, despair, joy, and redemption. The reds, greens, yellows, and blues gleamed like precious jewels. They spoke volumes to him.

With his mother's support, he followed his heart and learned the skill of making glass art. However, growing up was not easy for the hulking farm boy who made "pretty stuff" as his friends often teased - especially when Dominic began to spend more time on his trade than in the bars carousing with his buddies. There just wasn't time in his schedule with classes at the local community college and endless work on granddad's farm. When he finally scraped together enough money, Dominic transferred to St. Joseph College to get his degree in art, still he knew most of the hard-laboring community folk were snickering behind his back.

Lucky for him, years of working on the farm had transformed Dominic from a gangly pre-teen to a teen with a strong physical build; it probably saved him from plenty of bullying. Now, at 6'3'' and 215 lbs, he had developed a broad chest with equally as wide shoulders, muscular arms and legs, and a trim waist with the firmest 6-pack abs in town thanks to days of bailing hay by hand.

So, today, it was Dominic who had the last laugh – he may not have had the "manliest" of trades, but it was hewho was leaving small town life behind. He had been offered the lucrative job designing and creating stained glass for an entire historically significant church in a foreign country. All living expensed included, no less!

Still, he didn't feel he quite held the confidence to pull this whole "adventure" off. Standing before the mirror of his childhood dresser, he pondered the appropriateness of the clothes he was wearing for his near sixteen-hour plane trip. He knew a little about the country he was headed for, at least enough to worry he would look very out of place. Dominic fussed with the collar of his freshly pressed button-down shirt tucked tightly into his cotton Khaki pants. He felt like a fish out of water in anything else but jeans and a t-shirt.

He was too tall now to see his face in the child-height mirror, but he didn't mind since he didn't connect with anything he saw in his reflection. His beautiful mother had green-eyes with fair-skin and auburn hair streaked with natural copper highlights. Dominic possessed none of these traits. He had russet skin, jet-black hair and dark brown eyes that became as black as pitch when he was angry or upset.

Dominic knew he must resemble him. It was also in the way his mother's eyes clouded over when she looked into Dominic's face as he became an adult. His very presence was a constant reminder of her heartbreak. Maybe it was good thing he was moving on…maybe she would too...

"Dominic? Are you stalling?" his mother's voice startled him as she appeared unexpectedly in the doorway of his small bedroom, her hands on her hip.

"No, just making sure I've got everything." Though he knew all he was leaving behind was a rusty Chevy pickup truck now parked at his granddad's farm. All his tools he had invested in had been shipped already, and his new employer assured him the larger machinery he needed would be purchased and waiting for him on site.

Trisha's face contorted with emotion and Dominic rushed over to embrace her.

"It's okay, mom. You know I'll come back home. Or maybe you can come join me?"

She stepped back to stare into his face.

"I think not! This is your big adventure. You've worked hard to get this opportunity. Don't give me a second thought. I'll be just fine."

She swiped at her eyes and stood on her tiptoes giving him a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the room. Again, he felt she averted her eyes from him just a bit too swiftly.

Taking one more look around his room, he grabbed his paperwork and suitcases and followed her out. The ride to South Bend Regional Airport was uncomfortably silent – for both of them.

Trisha knew her son was a man now and didn't need her protection anymore, but still, she worried. Would he be safe? Would he be lonely? After all, he didn't speak the language. He had worked diligently on learning it, but only had a short time to work with Rosetta Stone. The job offer had come out of nowhere, and urgently requested his presence so that the proposed project could be completed before the next festival. Although the origin of the letter initially made her suspicious – exactly how did someone so far away come to acquire her son's portfolio? - Trisha soon embraced it as a wonderful opportunity for her son to spread his wings, and hoped it would finally enable Dominic see himself as "successful". It did appear this was something he needed in order to feelworthy of a woman. He had met and dated so many nice girls, but always broke it off just before the relationship could move to the next level. In her heart, she knew Dominic didn't want his family to live the life he had to endure…Dominic wanted to offer a wife and children so much more than struggling to make a living on a farm...

Dominic watched his mother's face as she drove. He could see changing emotions reflected in the lines on her face. He wanted to ask what she was feeling, but decided to respect her desire to keep them to herself. Instead, he switched on the radio and searched for a song he could sing to her. His voice was the one thing that calmed her, a gift uniquely his. She loved classic country, and finding "Vaya con Dios" on her favorite radio station seemed appropriate for the occasion. He crooned with the expressive voice of Freddy Fender, while silently praying his shipped guitar would arrive safely at his new home with his lifetime investment of tools. If anything made him feel instantly at home, it was the warm sound and feel of his guitar.

When Trisha pulled up to the United Airlines drop-off area to help Dominic unload his bags, she could no longer remain stoic. This was really happening! Tears flooded her eyes and overflowed onto her pale cheeks. She pleaded for him to understand, "Dominic, I'm happy, really! I am so excited for you. But of course I am going to miss you. I love you so much. You have been the single, shining light in my life."

Again he held her tightly against his chest, letting her tears soak into his cotton shirt.

"I know I've never told you this, and for that I am sorry, but you did an awesome job raising me. And I promise I will make you proud, mom."

His sincere words only resulted in a new wave of sobs from Trisha, but they were the words every mother longed to hear. She hadn't screwed her child up after all, leaving him to be fixed by some know-it-all therapist! All her sacrifice had been worth it. He was a good person with a true heart. Trisha looked up into his watery eyes to squeak out, "I already am proud of you, son."

They held each other for another minute while the exhaust of her aging Buick sputtered out noxious fumes. Once Trisha calmed her sobs, she stepped back and smiled at him.

"Now go make that church a breathtaking sight to see."

"I will," he replied, trying to give her a confident smile before bending to retrieve his luggage. Trisha held her breath as she watched him disappear into the faceless crowd of strangers beyond the swooshing doors of the airport terminal.

Dominic knew he couldn't look back.

Clumsy with apprehension and restrained emotion, he struggled to the check-in counter. The associate behind the desk smiled at his obvious newness to traveling. She put forth an extra effort to slow down the instructions she felt she had regurgitated at least a million times in her career.

"Ticket and identification, please," she said, noting how the light from the fluorescents overhead danced in the young man's remarkably dark eyes. "Is this the first time you are traveling outside the country?"

"Yes, ma'am, it is."

"Well," she glanced down at the destination printed on his ticket, "Italy is an incredible country. You will not be disappointed. And everything you heard about the food in Tuscany – it's all true."

With a quick wink, she indicated where he should put his luggage, calculated the baggage fee, and took the shiny new credit card supplied by his new employer to cover any travel charges, before handing him his receipt and driver's license.

"Your plane will be departing from gate B-12 in just under two hours. Be sure to present your boarding pass and identification or passport to security. Have a wonderful flight."

"Thank you."

To his relief, Dominic's flight was uneventful. With barely any assistance from airport staff, he was able to make his connecting flights, first in Chicago and then in Rome. When he touched down in Pisa, he was more than ready to be on solid ground and stretch his cramped legs.

He held his passport in his hand, along with the employment confirmation letter, that by this time was very wrinkled and moist from his constant handing, as he made his way off the plane. The letter had instructed him to meet his new employer's representative in the baggage claim. She would then drive him to his new apartment and acquaint him with the area.

As the escalator moved weary and excited travelers alike into the bustling baggage claim area, Dominic's eyes anxiously scanned the waiting line of chauffeurs and company reps for any clue someone was indeed looking for him. A moment of panic gripped his gut as he realized he would be totally screwed if no one was there...

As he searched the line of professionally dressed people corralled behind a velvet rope holding signs of various sizes emblazoned with names from all nationalities, his eyes locked on to one of the most strikingly beautiful woman he had ever seen. All the other faces around her blurred into the background - all he saw was her.

She was tall, and her skin was a rich olive color indicating her strong Italian heritage. Her lustrous black hair draped just past her shoulders, her expensive white silk blouse opened just enough to allow a glimpse of her abundant cleavage. Her A-line skirt clung to the generous swell of her hips in a most appealing way. However, the glorious view did not end there. Dominic felt his jaw drop slightly as his eyes continued their downward journey to the long, shapely legs that terminated into a killer pair of black stilettos. Damn, but her body should have come with a sign that read "dangerous curves ahead."

He firmly believed he was a discerning connoisseur of women's legs, and was absolutely certain the finest specimens in existence were currently displayed before him. He drifted into a lusty visual of those legs wrapped around his hips, those heels sliding roughly down his backside...

Unexpectedly, the escalator stairs disappeared from under his feet and into the silver platform sending him into a mad scramble to regain his balance. "Son of a bitch..." he mumbled in embarrassment as he tried to compose himself. Too humiliated to look at the faces around him, he stooped to pick up his passport and letter, which had flown out of his hands in his hasty balancing act.

"Oh, my!" A deeply-accepted cashmere voice remarked as a pair of delicate hands reached his belongings before he could. "You almost made a crash landing," she quipped.

Dominic raised his eyes to thank the stranger who rushed to help him, but found his voice lost in the flicker of her flecked dark green eyes. His leggy Italian goddess's face was only inches from his own!

Swallowing hard, he stuttered, not sure whether to thank her in English or Italian – if he could call to mind either language at this point...

As they stood to their full height, she held out his effects.

"Um, would you like your papers, sir?"

Her voice jerked him from his admiring stupor and he blinked rapidly. "Oh, ah, yes. Thank you."

He could feel the burn of redness rising in his cheeks, but as he reached for his belongings, he again was thrown for a loop. In her right hand he saw a sign bearing his name.

"Dominic. I see...the sign...I'm he...I'm Dominic. You are looking for me!" He cringed, hearing the goofy giddiness in his voice, knowing he had a silly grin plastered across his face. What a first impression!

"And so I am," she replied enthusiastically.

After shoving his things unceremoniously into his pockets, he wiped a sweaty palm against his pant leg and formally extended his hand. "I'm sorry, my manners...I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

She chuckled slightly and shook his hand. "And I am pleased to meet you, Dominic. I have heard so much about your talent and skill. I am eager to see your work in person. My name is Gianna. I'll be escorting you to Volterra."


A/N: Ohhh snap!

And before you ask, yes, Bella and Edward are a central part of this story. You'll hear from them next chappie.

Thanks to everyone who already put this story on their alert/fave list when I posted the Prologue. Welcome to new readers! Please fave, alert, follow, etc. And a comment/review would be wonderful too since I will be sharing your words with my FI team (they so earned any kind words/comments you might have).

Translations:

Vaya con Dios = Go with God