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My nerves were through the roof as the time to open the doors fast approached.

Angela noticed my internal turmoil and offered me a glass of Champagne. "Relax. Everything is in order, like the previous editions."

Little did she know that nothing was like the previous editions. Now, I knew everything about who attended the auction, and I was ready to confront them.

My anxiety was through the roof, not only because I had no idea what to expect from this event but because I hadn't seen Edward for over a week.

After long debates, he had gone to his uncle to play the victim.

There had been an interview where his uncle told the press how his nephew had arrived in the middle of the night more dead than alive, and he would appreciate if everyone understood the fact that there would be no pictures or statements from Edward.

As the door opened, Angela and Kate welcomed everyone with a smile and a drink.

I stood aside, acknowledging some of my old acquaintances with a nod.

"You wouldn't believe who's here," Rose gasped into my ear through the earpiece.

I wasn't used to communicating like this, and I had to mask my startle with a cough. "Who," I asked in my bracelet while casually checking my earring.

"Your mother," she explained. "She'll be inside the museum soon."

I barely had the time to comprehend her words when I spotted Renee waltzing inside. She had her husband at her arm, her eyes searching for something until they landed on me.

She made a show over how excited she was to see me, thus attracting everyone's attention.

I wanted to smash her face into the nearest wall.

"Isabella, my darling!" she cried, throwing her arms around me.

I pushed her away, disentangling from her embrace. "Mother."

"You look amazing, honey," she gushed, making me sick with how fake she was.

"Thank you," I answered, keeping my tone as sweet as possible. "I have to mingle," I lied, escaping her claws.

I made small talk with all the big names present at the auction. With the help of Siobhan and Liam, Rose and Emmett were able to compile a folder filled with background information on every politician, eccentric, philanthropist, art collector, and entrepreneur, as well as my usual buyers.

By the time my customary rounds were done, it was time to close the doors and begin the ceremony.

I escaped to the powder room, gripping the edges of the sink as I stared at my reflection.

"Looking hot, Kitty."

I jumped a foot in the air, not expecting Edward's soft voice in my ear. I even checked my surroundings, but obviously, he wasn't in here.

He chuckled, making me feel stupid. "I'm glad you wore my present."

I rolled my eyes, returning my gaze to the mirror. Before leaving the house, a delivery guy brought something that looked like a standard ring box.

I had opened it in the car and noticed a small note pinned to the underside of the lid. Wear me, it read.

I had seen the eye contact before, or else I wouldn't have known what to do with the tiny, fragile object inside the case. It was the same thing Dr. Cullen's dogs had worn. He probably had them in heaps, so Edward had stolen one and sent it to me.

"Are you here?" I asked, my voice shaking terribly.

"I'm close," he promised. "Keep this frequency. Don't switch to Rosalie."

"Like I know how," I mumbled. "What's the plan?"

"For once, there's no plan. I noticed Renee is here," he said, sounding worried.

"Yeah, I have no idea why."

"I do, but I'd hate to be right. Now, go out there and be awesome!"

I scowled at my reflection, hoping he understood the gesture was for him.

My heels clicked loudly on the floor as I walked toward where the auction was being held. I took deep breaths, somewhat more relaxed, knowing Edward was close.

"Oh, don't worry about Carlisle if you see him."

I nearly stumbled but managed to stay upright. I hadn't seen him arrive, but somehow, his presence worried me more than Renee's. Though I knew how evil Renee could be, I hadn't seen her in action, so to speak. As for Dr. Cullen, I had seen plenty.

The memory of him attempting to shoot Edward was still fresh in my mind.

"Good evening! Thank you for joining me for another year on this special occasion," I said as I made my way onto the stage.

All the guests started clapping.

"Show me the room. Slowly," Edward murmured in my ear.

I continued talking about the plans for the evening as I took a surveil around the room. I paused fractionally at the men I believed to be dirty.

"Goddamn. That's half of the politicians and philanthropists in the city and then some."

I knew this auction brought together big names, but I had never paid close attention to the faces. I recognized them for being a recurring appearance each year.

With Angela's help, the first painting was brought onto the stage, and I allowed those who desired to acquire it to admire it before the auction began.

"Show me the painting," Edward said.

"Of course, it's an original," I said loudly, more for him than the audience.

But I studied the painting myself so Edward could see it, too.

"Obviously, it's a fake," he retorted, amused. Static filled my ear, and then it was so quiet I feared I had gone deaf.

My first instinct was to be angry, but then I figured he must know better. Kate was my best fake detector. Though, her name was on my bedroom wall in the sea of names Edward had stuck there in the beginning.

As the auction started, I checked all the people who chose to place their bids. Most of them were excited, as they kept shouting more than the person before them. They stopped their challenging at five grand.

I knew for sure this painting was worth at least seven grand.

"Come on; I know you can do better," I teased. "Should I have invited the artist herself to talk to you about her painting?"

I had specifically chosen to start with a couple of contemporary artists, knowing as the age of the paintings increased, so did the money.

Eventually, I started the countdown, feeling disappointed. When I reached 'three,' a hand lifted from the back of the room.

"Fifteen thousand." It was a voice I didn't recognize, and I couldn't see the man's face.

"Any takers for a higher bid?" I checked while attempting to squint toward the unknown man.

Eventually, the painting went to him. He refused to get closer or say his name, so Angela scribbled down his number.

I felt antsy. The hair on the back of my neck rose as I searched for an angle to distinguish the man in the darker corner of the room.

Unable to succeed, I continued the auction, hoping Edward could see who it was.

To be honest, the lack of Edward's voice in my ear, or Rosalie's, for that matter, made my stomach roil uncomfortably.

Three more paintings were sold for outrageous amounts, and it was time for a break before we moved on to the more prominent names.

I was sampling the finger food when Renee cornered me again.

"What other paintings are you selling?"

"All l can say is I personally selected the pieces," I explained. "Will you be joining the bidding?"

"Of course not." She appeared scandalized, though her eyes told a different story. There was fear in them, and I couldn't understand why. "I heard about your fiancé. That's wonderful news that he's alive and well," Renee continued casually.

"Yes, Edward is okay."

"I see he's not here tonight."

"He got blown up a week ago, and a psycho is out there who they're still trying to catch," I hissed. It was true; the police were fruitlessly attempting to find what had happened in the underground parking lot of Edward's office building. He hadn't told them a thing, and they had nothing except an exploded bomb near an SUV near the elevators where he had thrown the detonator.

"Of course, of course." She nodded seriously. "I'm just saying it wouldn't have killed him to support you."

I narrowed my eyes at her, but my retort got stuck in my throat when the sound of static returned to my left ear.

"Change of plans," Edward said in a hurry.

More static followed, then Rosalie's voice took over. "If Cullen weren't so useful, I would have killed him ten times by now."

I tried not to laugh at how everyone around me seemed so passionate about killing Edward, yet no one seemed able to do it.

"I know he's supporting me in front of the TV. But I guess that's love," I answered Renee with a shrug.

I spun on my heel, going backstage. I couldn't see Angela or Kate, so I brought my bracelet to my mouth. "What the fuck happened, Rose?"

"Bat Boy thinks he's sleek."

"Bat Boy?" I repeated, laughing to myself.

"That mask of his reminds me of a bat. Whatever. Stay alert because it's show time on the second part of the evening."

"Are you okay?" Kate asked from behind me.

"Yeah, yeah." I pretended to tuck my hair behind my ear, smiling. "Are you joining me on stage?"

"I have to prove these assholes you're selling the real shit. I just got cornered by the first buyer. He demanded to see the painting closer because he wasn't sure about his purchase."

"And…did you show it to him?" I asked curiously.

"Of course not! The policy is to pack their paintings at the end."

"Did you catch his name, by any chance?" I insisted.

She eyed me speculatively. "Justin, or something. He sounded foreign. God forbid we get any more blood on our hands."

"Nothing like last year will happen again," I vowed. "Come on."

We took a Dali on the stage, and I allowed Kate to prattle about the surrealist painting and its authenticity. I checked it myself, admiring it more than looking for anything in particular.

I was vaguely aware of the auction starting, as I kept my eyes on the name scrawled at the bottom. Dali was one of my personal favorites, and I had seen plenty of his art. I knew his signature, yet this one didn't look the same. The way the letter 'a' was written was completely different than what I learned.

I moved my attention to Kate and how sure she was of what she was saying.

My gut twisted uncomfortably.

"One million!"

My head whipped toward the audience, my eyes finding Carlisle Cullen. The previous amount had been nowhere near this sum. While there were many Dali paintings worth much more than that, this one wasn't worth even one dollar.

Knowing I was selling a fake, even to someone I considered my enemy, made me feel sick.

I started the countdown, and when I was close to the end, the man from before shouted an outrageous amount: "Ten million!"

It was the same man I couldn't see, the one who had bought the first painting.

Though he moved into the light this time, and I tried not to retch.

Kate was horrible with names. That man's name was not Justin. It was James – my half-brother, all thanks to my darling mother associating with Senator Whitmore many years ago.

Renee was currently beaming his way, and I understood she was behind this.

The next painting put up for auction was a Warhol. This one was won by a man I had seen before, but it took me an embarrassingly long time to place his face. It was the one I had seen with Volturi at Carlisle's house the night Edward and I returned to get the evidence.

Of course, Volturi was too high and mighty to show his face in person at my auction. He had sent his lackey to do the dirty job.

A Cézanne and a Goya later, I was surprised to see the painting brought on the stage by Angela. This was not the one we had selected. Instead of a Monet, I had my beloved Darwin Leon painting next to me.

I was a professional, and I refused to let it show how shocked I was.

Whoever had decided to play this cruel joke would not see me crumble and withdraw a painting from the auction. I opted to deal with the aftermath once the evening ended.

While Kate stumbled over her words, talking about a painting she didn't know, I chose to take over. As I spoke about my favorite piece of art, I noticed Renee had gone white.

If this wasn't her doing, then who? I wondered to myself.

The auction started high – at five hundred thousand. I was impressed by that number. James had thrown it in the ring before any other hand could raise.

To my astonishment, a few others outbid him.

Not to my surprise, Renee cried out a number I was sure no one could deal with, "Ten million."

It was a relatively unknown artist, to my limited knowledge.

I hoped she offered that insane amount so the museum could keep the painting and not for her to take it away. I would have to reason with her and explain there had been a mix-up.

If it had indeed been a mix-up, I would be wringing Angela's neck.

Kate started the countdown for me, but she barely said two numbers before a voice I knew very well spoke. "Fifteen million," Edward stated clearly from close to the doors.

He was wearing a charcoal suit and a light smile.

Renee turned to glare daggers at him, her hand raising as she outbid him by twenty million.

I couldn't even wrap my head around the amount of money they started playing ping-pong with because Edward kept going higher and higher until Renee backed off.

"Sold for fifty-seven million to Edward Cullen," I announced, my voice shaking.

I barely had the words out when a new voice came from near James. "Seventy million."

Everyone turned to stare at Volturi. I had no idea when he had arrived, but he was too late.

"I'm afraid the auction is closed for this particular painting, Mr. Volturi," I said slowly.

"Whatever amount you say, I'll double. That painting is not leaving the family," Edward told him. "It's an heirloom."

"Would you look at that? The living dead has come out of his lair to show us how rich he is," Volturi sneered. "You have not worked a day in your life for the money you're throwing on a silly painting. You will end up exactly like your parents."

My job was to steer the conversation and calm the waters, but my blood boiled in anger at his words. "You have no idea how hard Edward is working," I spat. "Maybe it's you, Chief, who doesn't know what real work is. You've earned your title with blood on your hands."

Edward shook his head imperceptibly, but I was on a roll.

"You dare accuse me of murder? I suspect we're talking about your father," Volturi drawled.

"You suspect correctly," I hissed. "The paintings you had your people buy will end up in your basement, with the other fakes you have purchased the previous years!"

Kate gasped, and I turned my murderous look on her in time to see her wide eyes staring at me in horror.

It was time to unmask the whole room full of rats. I hoped Edward had locked the doors because none of these scumbags would leave the building unscathed.

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