Hi Ladies,

I am astounded by the response to this story, and it's totally my pleasure to share it. Sue Gilreath and Sherry Neal were so helpful in encouraging me to write it, and I want to tell them a huge thank you.

Bella's past is a sensitive topic and I don't know how much information I will share about that. If I decide to go into depth, I will put trigger warnings on the chapter so I don't bring up bad memories for anyone. I will leave snippets of Bella's life on the streets at the beginning of every chapter because our poor girl has been through it.

Anyway, thanks for coming to read. Please drop me a line and let me know what you think. It keeps the imagination working.

Bella

Two years ago:

I'd been sleeping in the alleyway for a week before I determined I needed a better place to lay my head at night. While the archway presented a neat little place to tuck myself out of sight, I was vulnerable to anyone who happened to pass by. Searching the city for a spot to call mine, at least for a few days where my eyes didn't pop open with every noise, I came across a Goodwill donation box.

Effortlessly, I squeezed into the tiny window, and when the shuttered door snapped closed behind me, I breathed my first real sigh of relief in days. Not only did the tiny building offer me privacy, but the walls and roof also protected me from the elements. They didn't call Chicago the windy city to be funny. It was true. Considering it was still early spring, the nip in the air was quite real and very penetrating.

I took a quick look around me when I landed on piles of donated items. How fortunate could I be? Not only had I stumbled into the perfect little room for one, but my own personal store as well.

Lifting my shirt, I smelled the fabric and cringed. The T-shirt was well-worn at this point, and the stench of the fucking alley burrowed into the cotton. Without a second thought, I sorted through the clothing scattered around. Tears sprang to my eyes when I found a hoodie tucked in the bottom of a garbage bag. I didn't even hesitate. Ripping the smelly shirt from my body I tossed it to the furthest corner and slipped the hoodie over my head.

A shiver ran through me as my body heat began filling the thicker sweater. I was still rooting through bags when I came across a much-needed brush. Hell, I didn't even know it was a thing to donate brushes, but I would gladly kiss whoever had the foresight to donate this one.

I tore the ponytail from my hair and racked the bristle through my thick sable hair. As soon as I was done, I returned my attention to the clothing beneath my feet. After twenty minutes, I found a pair of pants a couple of sizes too big, but it didn't stop me from slipping into the clean denim.

Finally, I was warm and somewhat clean. Content, I scrambled to the furthest corner and tucked myself beneath scattered clothing.

Too bad there wasn't a steak hidden in here somewhere. I had five bucks left on my account at school, and it would get me through Monday and Tuesday next week. Tomorrow was Saturday, and I had no idea what I was going to do for a meal. Perhaps the church down the street would be good for a bite, and I could actually eat my fill.

Nibbling on my nail, my eyelids grew heavy as I stared at the dark walls around me. I'd thought about going to the police after the way Charlie reacted to my confession, but considering he was the Chief of Police, I didn't suppose they would be much help. I had to admit, my future wasn't looking very bright or promising, and my situation was dire. Soon I would have to figure out what road to take.

Tonight. Tonight I would just get the best fucking sleep I'd had in days.

Chapter 1

Edward

My arm curled around Jessica's trim waist and switched our positions. With a satisfied grunt, I collapsed back on the mattress, content to let the woman above me work her magic. Sweat poured in rivers down her torso, making her breast glisten in the afternoon sun, the tips like cherries beckoning me to sample their sweetness. I didn't however, closing my eyes to block out the vision hovering over me, willing my body to go through the motions.

Lately, this life was becoming more and more dissatisfying. Once upon a time, it'd been awesome. Sleeping with as many women as I could, without very much effort at all, and saying goodbye afterward. But here recently, it was a trial to even finish, my body lacking the interest required to complete the exchange. I don't know. Maybe I was maturing, wanting more, without actually wanting more.

There were times when I looked at my parents, and how happy they were. Even after over twenty years of marriage, my father absolutely adored my mother. Then, there was Emmett. Last year my wild reckless brother had found the love of his life working at a fucking bakery of all places. Imagine, a Cullen, head of the Deviants, falling for some pastry chef in midtown. Emmett had wandered into Creme Center, an erotic bakery, dedicated to serving any event catering to couples, and was smitten by a beautiful blonde with the bite of a viper.

It had been surprising how Rosalie had acclimated to our family. We were a notorious crime family with our fingers in gambling, laundering, and selling of firearms, and we even did some bootlegging from Mexico to the streets of Chicago, and beyond. While Rose could be as sweet as the sugar she served, she had the sting of a scorpion when the need arose.

Perhaps. Perhaps if I could find a woman like her, rough around the edges and sweet in the center, I would contemplate settling down. The urge was there. The desire was there. Yet the right circumstances had yet to present themselves. And no way would I let my father ever fucking know, I was starting to cave in those regards. I knew his plans for me, and I was most resistant.

No way would I fall prey to his scheming ways. Marry a woman I'd never met, who happened to live a whole world away. I would rather eat the tip of a gun than commit myself to a woman I'd never met.

"Edward," Jessica whined, drawing me back to the present situation. She was staring at me with that adoration in her eyes, and I cringed. "It's like you aren't even trying. You seem a million miles away."

She caressed my chest, her nails biting into my pecs, as she wiggled her hips. Closing my eyes, I grabbed her by her waist and tore her from my body, setting her down on the silken sheets. With very little effort, I leapt from the bed, and naked as a jaybird wandered to the windows overlooking the city. "That's because I'm not." I stared at the towering buildings all around, blinking against the hot sun, briefly I glanced toward Jessica. She looked beyond offended, and close to tears. I wasn't buying that shit either. "Just get your clothes and go. This was a fucking mistake."

She growled in frustration. The sassy brunette grabbed a pillow and chucked it in my direction. Easily, I evaded the fluffy missile, glaring at her. "This is bullshit. You're the one who asked me to come up to your condo. The least you could do is finish what you started."

When her fingers curled around a candlestick, I pointed in her direction, my teeth grinding. "You throw that, and I will throw it back. I won't miss either, so get your clothes and get the hell out."

I didn't wait for her to listen promptly turning for the bathroom. I closed the door with a bang and headed straight for the shower. This would be the last time I dove into some random pussy. The release was fleeting, and the rush dissipated before they ever left my bed. Pinching the bridge of my nose to stave off the headache pounding at my temples, I climbed beneath the scalding shower and proceeded to scrub Jessica's scent from every line of my body. Finally, when the last of her perfume swirled around the drain, I leaned back onto the heated tile, soaking up the warmth.

In an hour I had a meeting with Mike Newton. I needed to send the lackey to pick up payment from a recent shipment. Jacob Black was passing along a hundred grand from a firearm shipment in Michigan. Typically, I would pick up the payment myself, but there was some suspicion of Mike skimming off the top. What better way to uncover the truth than to leave him responsible for over a hundred G's? If the payment was even ten dollars short, I'd chop his damn fingers off and feed them Cajun, Emmett's German shepherd.

Feeling refreshed from the hot water cascading over my shoulders, I turned the water off and stepped from the spacious cubicle. Rubbing my face dry with a towel I plucked from the rack, I ran it through my hair, and quickly over my torso before wrapping it around my waist. Grabbing the toothbrush sitting next to the faucet, I'd just squirted the biggest glub of toothpaste on the bristles when I heard the bleating of my phone. Wanting the taste of Jessica off my tongue, I shoved the loaded toothbrush in my mouth before yanking the door to the bathroom open.

I was relieved to find my room empty of the woman I'd stupidly thought to lose myself in. Just lately a random fuck wasn't hitting the right spots. Shaking the thought from my mind, I hurried across to the nightstand to locate my cell. The ringing stopped, the screen going dim as I retrieved it to find a missed call from Emmett. I proceeded to brush my teeth as I made my way back to the bathroom with my phone in hand. Spitting the minty paste from my mouth, I rinsed twice with Listerine before calling Emmett back. One full ring later, Emmett's gruff voice echoed through the receiver.

"Hey, fuckwad, where the hell are you?"

"I just stepped out of the shower. I'm about to get dressed now." I shut the light to the bathroom off before wandering back into my room. Three paces to the right, I strolled into the walk-in closet, my gaze roaming over silk ties neatly rolled in their individual cubbies. Hitting the speaker button, I set the phone on the mahogany shelf before thumbing through over a hundred suits, one for every occasion. Choosing a jet-black suit, I lifted the hanger from the rail and found a matching black button-up. Dropping the towel, I turned my attention back to my brother. "Are you already at White's?"

"White's? Why the fuck would I be at White's. Rose would have my balls if she found out I stepped a foot into that strip joint."

I laughed at the fear lacing my brother's voice. I'd never seen my brother scared of anything, but one mention of a pissed-off Rose had him bulking like a neutered dog. "Man, you are so damn pussy whipped. If I ever …"

"It will happen, brother. Believe me. It will catch you by complete surprise." There was a slight pause on the other line, and I was swallowing his statement. At this point, I hardly believed there was anyone special out there for me. Hell, I'd walked this earth for thirty years, and hadn't come close to ever feeling that spark. I blinked my apprehensions away when Emmett continued, "What's happening at White's? Should I be there? Are you going to need backup?"

"I never need back up," I scoffed, shrugging into my shirt and working the buttons up. Clicking the metal bar in my tongue against my teeth, I glanced at the gun with the silencer screwed into the barrel. "I'm meeting Mike. I'm setting the prick up for a fall, yet the bastard is too stupid to see it. I'm having him pick up a payment, and see how much he swipes." Snapping a pair of boxer brief's in place, I hurriedly pulled up my slacks, and tucked my shirt inside. "Sure you don't want to meet me there? I'm sure they have some new girls to look at."

"Nah, I'll leave that to you. I'm a married man now, and completely committed …"

"Whipped," I joked, tightening the tie around my neck. Sliding my arms into the sleeves of my Italian coat, I tucked my piece in my waistband. "I'll give you a call after. I might swing by for a nightcap.'

"Sounds good."

No sooner than I hung up with Emmett than my dad's name highlighted the screen. Nope. I wasn't answering his damn call. The last thing I wanted to hear about was my obligation to the family. Since Emmett had fallen for the pastry chef, the family responsibilities fell on my shoulders. I wasn't about to become a pawn in my father's games with the Italians. Perhaps the daughter of Mateo was the most beautiful goddamn woman to fall from the sky, but she wouldn't be my wife.

When, if ever, I chose to be married it wouldn't be to make Carlisle richer or more powerful. His reach already extended to New York City, and I saw no reason to cross oceans.

I didn't bother to click the ignore button before letting the cell slip into my pocket. Carlisle could speak to my voicemail, and drive it fucking nuts. Squirting a few sprits of cologne on my shirt, I strode out of the closet with purpose in my gait. It was time to face a thief, and determine if it would be his fingers or his whole fucking hand.

–m–

It was four o'clock in the afternoon by the time I strode into White's. Adjusting the Rolex on my wrist, I glanced around from stage to stage, momentarily watching the writhing bodies. Apparently, the disinterest extended to the strip joint I'd taken endless pleasure in for years. Pulling my gaze away from the naked flesh on the platforms, I searched for Mike in the dimly lit club, my chest growing tight when I spotted him in the back corner.

Black Lace was giving Mike a dance he'd definitely remember later. I didn't know why the sight irritated me, but my aggravation rose. Every muscle in my body hardened with tension, and with a few quick strides, I slipped into the chair across from him. Call me old-fashioned but when you met your boss for a meeting, you would think you'd act with a measure of professionalism. Apparently, Mike didn't suffer from the same affliction.

Grunting my displeasure, I lifted my eyebrows when Mike managed to tear his hands off a pair of cocoa brown hips to focus on me. My lips thinned, my gaze taking on an edge that wouldn't be mistaken.

Mario Ricci was my great-grandfather, and before Al Capone was taken from the streets of Chicago, he'd been a proud member of the Five Points gang. I imagine if great-granddad had been so careless during a meeting with Big Al, he would've been found in the gutter somewhere upstate. Lucky for me, that hadn't been the case, and Mario had met my grandmother, Ciara Cullen fresh from a boat from Ireland.

The gutter was a very real possible destination for this prick, I shoved my annoyance aside in favor of finding out where the hell my money was going. Staring into a pair of chocolate brown eyes, I watched Lace's eyes widen as she promptly scrambled from Mike's lap. My associate looked rather nervous when he turned his attention to me. I settled into the plush cushions. "How's the wife? The baby?"

I took family very seriously. When you decided to take vows that meant keeping your cock in your pants. That's why I'd been so cautious thus far. I wouldn't devote my life to a woman I couldn't and wouldn't be faithful to. Once again, perhaps my associate didn't share that affliction either.

Perhaps I already knew where my money was going–an endless line of strippers and hookers waiting to pluck the pockets of their customers. Mike fidgeted nervously in his seat, clearing his throat, his blue eyes became avoidant. "Jane's visiting her mother in Ohio and took Tyler with her. I was just wasting time before this meeting took place."

"I should say. How much time have you been wasting here at White's?" Normally, I wouldn't give a shit, but Mike was starting to show his true colors. Obviously, loyalty, integrity, and trust weren't some of his favorite characteristics–which was going to be a huge problem. If the weasel was spending time at the meat market on my dime that was a bigger problem.

A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Carmel, a cute little senorita, was working her way in my direction. Hair as black as coal was draped over one shoulder, hiding the tip of one exposed breast, while the other was in full view. She had the coy expectant look of a woman with a lot of confidence, but I lifted my hand to stop her from coming any closer. "I'm not in the mood today, Carmel. Send Jasper over here with a shot of patron."

Her hazel eyes rolled toward her hairline, but she promptly turned in the opposite direction. Three minutes later a shot glass brimming with very expensive tequila slid across the tabletop. Throwing the shot back, I ignored the lime, loving the burn of alcohol on my tongue. No need to ruin perfectly good tequila with bells and whistles. Shaking the sting away, I let out a resigned sigh.

"Anyway, back to business." Was it my imagination or was dear Mike starting to sweat? Clicking the barbell against my teeth, I tapped the table with impatience. "Jacob Black is making a drop near Kinzie Street Bridge at eleven tonight. I need you to be there to pick it up."

Mike's pale eyes flared momentarily. The last time I sent him to pick up that drop I'd been shorted ten grand. At first, I'd thought it was Jake taking me for a ride, but after shoving a barrel in his mouth, he'd pissed himself. If having the barrel of a nine tapping his teeth wasn't enough to make him confess, well chances were he wasn't the one fucking me. That only left one other person.

Thanks for reading, and please review.