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LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine.

2.

"Jeee-zus, fuck!"

Aro Volturi's eyebrows shot up into his hairline as his client—one of the most talented, yet challenging clients he'd represented in his long career—slid into the seat next to him.

"I see that prison has done nothing to change your vocabulary," he remarked, the slight Mediterranean lilt to his voice betrayed his Italian ancestry.

"I was waiting for half an hour! Do you know how fucking hot it is outside? I had to check to see if my nuts had started to melt!" his client complained, unaware of the threatening undertone in Aro's voice. Unaware or just simply uninterested.

Aro was banking on the latter, much to his disappointment.

"I apologize for the delay," Aro, ever the gentleman, replied. "Siobhan ran into some trouble at the studio and I had to stay until it was solved." What he didn't mention was the fact that he had been more than happy to stay even longer than needed. He had long started to dread every meeting he had with this ornery young man who seemed so determined to throw away the gifts God had bestowed upon him, and because Siobhan Kelly with her angelic voice and unassuming behavior was bringing in actual money whereas Edward was only eating into his profits.

"So that's how it is," the young man huffed, lighting up a cigarette even though Aro had repeatedly told him he couldn't stand the smell of cigarette smoke. "I make one fucking mistake and suddenly that cunt is the sole star in your universe?"

"My dear boy…" this time, the warning in his voice didn't go unnoticed, "you know as well as I do that the industry in which both of us belong to doesn't just revolve around writing pretty songs and putting them out there. It's based upon making money, plain and simple, and right now, she's bringing in more cash in a month than you have in the past two years."

That shut Edward up.

Aro smiled, not the slightest bit unruffled by the conversation they just had. And even if he would have been, he knew better than to show the little upstart sitting beside him that he was succeeding. Because if he had learned something in the ten year's he'd represented him, it was that Edward Cullen got off on making people uncomfortable.

If there ever was a man who lived to divide and conquer, it was this one.

After such a promising start, during which Aro had had to pinch himself to know he wasn't dreaming, Edward had soon started to turn into one of the most challenging clients he had ever represented. The young man was so incredibly talented—his first record had shot to the top of the charts in record time, earning both him, Edward, and the record company more money than they had ever dreamed.

And Aro liked money.

In fact, he liked it better than anything in the entire world.

The trouble was, though, that to Edward, money had never been his motivation. Coming from a very humble place, like Aro had, it was hard to see how someone could just throw it all away on parties, wrong friends, and other flighty pleasures. It was even harder to see how those very same flighty pleasures were starting to take his toll on the young man's career; from the first failed concerts where Edward had either been too drunk or too stoned to give his fans their money's worth, to the many incidents his wrong habits had caused to occur. In the end, Aro had spent more time in the record company CEO's office trying to explain his client's behavior or attempting to smooth over whatever mess Edward had created the previous night.

It was why he had taken on a second client in the first place: to get his joy in managing talented musician's back but also to provoke Edward into getting his life and, more importantly, his career, back on track.

That hadn't worked, though.

"Can we stop off at Burger King on the way to the office?" Edward spoke, breaking Aro out of his glum thoughts with another one of his selfish requests. "I assume that's where we're going, right? It's been ages since I've had a decent cheeseburger."

Aro knew better than to argue with the kid, knowing that where Edward could be a punk when he got his way, he was a nightmare when someone would deny him. "I find it funny that you consider fast food a decent meal," Aro grumbled as he ordered his driver to stop the car.

"It's what I want to eat. Sue me!" Edward huffed, the quiet as he left the car almost soothing as silence once again fell over the back seat. Almost. Since Aro knew it wouldn't last. Edward would be back sooner rather than later and when they reached the office, Aro knew he was going to have to give his client some news that wouldn't go over too well.

Edward, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying his newly reclaimed freedom. And even though he knew he'd completely fucked up and had fucked up by offering blow to a girl he later found out to be a minor, he knew he didn't belong behind bars.

It wasn't the life he was brought up to live.

But, hey, so much about what his parents may have wished for him when they brought him into this world had already gone to the dogs that, in the grand scheme of things, he supposed it didn't even matter. At least, it didn't matter as much as the fact that neither of his parents had lived past the age of forty. Edward and his sister had been left with grandparents who thought money could make up for absence and lack of affection.

That was why he behaved the way he did.

Sure, he was a punk, but if you would have asked Edward, he would have said he had very good reasons for being a jackass. And it wasn't just that he enjoyed antagonizing some of the do-gooders who were trying to pull him away from what he wanted, it was just that keeping people at arm's length was safer for him.

You couldn't get hurt if you never allowed anyone close enough to stab a dagger through his heart.

Right then, all he wanted to do was grab his stuff—which he was sure Aro had safely kept somewhere around his office—check into a hotel and call his friends to have some fun. Not listen to whatever long and tedious lecture the old man had planned.

At least his stomach was full after eating his more-than-decent meal. He smiled, patting his stomach as he wadded up the paper bag that had contained his food. He knew how Aro felt about fast food, but he didn't give a damn. He'd been in prison for half a year, eating whatever nasty shit was served at the prison cafeteria. He hadn't been dreaming about fine, delicate pieces of fish or tiny little plates of expensive food. It had been big, juicy hamburgers and rich, crispy fries he dreamed about.

And steak.

He'd barely parked his ass on one of the push seats on the opposite side of Aro's big, fancy desk when the old guy started his lecture. "Where do you intend to live now that you're out?"

Edward shrugged. "A hotel, I suppose. I don't think you kept my room at the Hilton on while I was away?"

"You're banned from ever entering that place again," Aro huffed, recalling the lengths he'd had to go to in order to keep the manager from going to the cops after Edward had gone on a rampage all over his room after he'd realized he was facing jail time. "And even if you were, your sister and I have deemed it more prudent for you to temporarily move in with her. In fact, we've already squared it away with your parole officer and Esme's expecting your call as soon as our meeting is over. You will check into the Waldorf for the night and her driver will pick you up tomorrow morning at our convenience. I'll get Chelsea to retrieve your things from the storage room."

Edward nodded, his breath coming in short, angered gasps as he sat there and let his manager order him around like he was a kid. Or, even worse: an inmate. "What gives you the fucking right to do all this shit, Aro? In case you forgot: I'm a free man!"

"The conditions of your parole, for starters." Edward didn't like the scolding look on Aro's face one bit. As if he needed more reminders of where he'd been for the past couple of months! "And because I want to make sure you don't fall back into your old habits."

If Aro had been a violent man, he would have polished the small smirk off the young man's face, making sure he would think twice about just shrugging and grinning away his concerns. Being as it was, he had to sit on his hands to keep himself from turning into one. "Edward, I don't think you quite realize the severity of the situation," he warned, only earning more scorn. "Your lawyers were lucky to get you off this lightly. If that poor girl's testimony had held up in court, or if anyone had seen you actually give her the drugs, you would have been looking at years behind bars instead of months." Aro paused, trying to get his anger under control before he continued. "Be that as it may, you're out and we can focus on saving what's left of your career, however little is left of it now."

"Little?" Edward chuckled, letting his eyes slip over the impressive array of awards lining the bookcase on the far end of the office. Technically they were all his but since he had no place to put them, he'd been more than happy to give them to his manager for safekeeping. They didn't really mean a fuck to him anyway. "I wouldn't call that little."

"That shit, is all in the past," Aro pressed. "In the present you have gone from a talented artist, resident 'hot, tortured musician' and media darling to public enemy number one and to say the record company is happy with that change would be the understatement of the damn century." Leaning forward, he waited until the little punk sitting across from him finally looked up. "One more incident and they'll be looking into terminating your contract, Edward, and there will be nothing I can do to stop them."

"Fine." Edward sat back, rubbing his temples as he realized he might have been a little naïve in thinking that by the time he'd be released from jail, the whole matter would have blown over. Then again, up until then, he'd done some lousy shit in his life but none of it had ever stuck so why would this?

"On top of that, if your parole officer catches you with the wrong crowd or even one of your mandatory drug tests comes up positive, your ass will be back in jail for another year," Aro went on, driving his point home.

Edward sighed. From the tone of his voice alone he knew Aro wasn't kidding about this stuff. And he guessed he could see why. What he'd done, even if he never knew the girl wasn't eighteen yet, was about as low as a person could go. If he had been a neutral onlooker, he wouldn't want to have anything to do with a lowlife like him either. "What do you suggest, then?"

Sitting back again, Aro folded his hands as he appraised his client, seeing at least a tiny hint of sincerity he could work with. "I suggest that you lay low for a while, ditch your usual friends for some who are a little bit more wholesome, ditch your habits while you're at it and write the best damn music you have ever written in your career—preferably a record filled with songs that will make people realize that underneath you're a decent guy after all. It's the only way to save yourself, kid."

"Very well." Smirking, Edward was already doing the math in his head, trying to ascertain how long he'd have to act like a choir buy in order to let the dust clouds settle.

"You need to get out of this city, Edward," Aro advised, "because we both know that even if you manage to evade trouble, it has a habit of catching up with you, whether you want to or not."

Edward leaned back as he let out a frustrated sigh. He wanted more than anything to protest the scheme his manager and sister had so cleverly come up with but, deep down, he knew it was the only way out of the mess he found himself in. "Fine," he reluctantly gave in, "I guess I'll be giving my sister a call, then."

Thoughts?