Day Seven:

Friday, July 13th

Chachawilla Indian Reservation, California

Bella

The guest room Elena provided me was a huge step up from the shack Lado housed me in for two days. I had my own bathroom with marble floors, a porcelain toilet with a bidet, and a walk-in shower with a rainfall showerhead. It felt like home. Yes, I might sound spoiled, but after being treated as if I were subhuman and like dirt on Lado's shoes, it was nice to feel like myself again.

There was even a decent flat-screen TV with endless channels. I searched the news for the heist Elena and Lado had discussed, and it didn't take me long. Let me tell you how fucking proud it made me to see my men get pissed off and destructive. Of course, it saddened me that Jasper had to be pushed into this, and a large part of me hoped Edward made him sit that one out.

I didn't want to compromise my beautiful and peaceful Jasper for my bloodthirsty vengeance.

The more I watched and the more details I learned about the IEDs and RPGs, I was convinced Doc and Sam had been involved. A while back, they were over at our house, smoking out with Edward and me, and Doc bragged about having unlimited access to them. He explained to me how they worked, and Edward got excited like a kid and joined in, telling me about all the shit they had blown up in the past. Then Sam was like, "If you ever need to blow shit up, you give us a fucking call."

He was talking to me, but Edward filled the order.

Later that night, after I had settled in, the Red Queen invited me to dinner. She was lonely, and I was more than willing to join her. The fear I felt with Lado wasn't there. Even though I knew she made the call to imprison me, I didn't think she would kill me.

I was too much like her daughter.

Elena showed up to the poolside dinner looking classy and perfect. Her black hair was straight and glossy, her makeup flawless, and she was wearing a long red satin dress.

I, on the other hand, wasn't instructed with a dress code, and since I had bared enough skin to last me a lifetime, I wore a loose-fitting T-shirt and sweatpants. I think these clothes belonged to Elena's daughter; they felt worn.

"I had a job for a while. I was a hostess at a restaurant. I went to community college for a semester and a half," I rambled as Elena listened and ate her food. "But then I left, because institutions make me crazy. And I thought, I don't know, I wanted to experience something real. I figured I just want to drown in life. And how I made it out and that ..."

"Do Americans always talk like this?" Elena asked, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance.

"I don't know," I replied.

I wasn't a representative of all Americans, but with my blond hair and California attitude, I fulfilled the stereotype.

"Have you ever really thought about your future?"

"That's a little ironic, considering the situation I'm in," I replied.

"How are your lamb chops, Isabella?" Elena noticed that I barely touched them. "What did you eat?" she asked. "All the salad and vegetables."

Not that she would care, but I was a vegetarian.

So I just said, "Good, thank you."

Silence hung in the air for a moment as we sat there eating, but I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts, so I forced a conversation.

"How did you get into the business?" I asked, and Elena stopped sipping her wine to stare at me as if I had crossed some imaginary line. In that moment, I felt my voice grow smaller. "If you don't mind me asking, ma'am."

Elena smiled as she sipped her wine. "You could say that I inherited the position. When they killed my husband, whom I loved very much, I had no choice."

"What, you don't have sons?"

I had only heard her talk about her daughter Magda.

"My son was murdered." The heartbreak Elena had desperately shoved down rose for a moment, and she shook it away. "So, I've devoted my life to my surviving children."

"Do you still get to talk to your children?"

Elena exhaled a heavy sigh. "My son hates me because I took his power away." She rushed to defend her actions. "They would have killed him too. And my daughter." The mother came out in her voice. "She's ashamed of me. And I am proud of her for it."

Regardless of how much money or power one has, ultimately, it means nothing if they don't have their loved ones surrounding them to share it.

"I'm sorry."

She raised a surprised eyebrow. "Why?"

"I don't know. I guess I feel bad for you. My hope is still alive." Edward and Jasper's faces popped into my head, and my heart swelled. "Both of them. And yours is dead."

"I like talking to you, Isabella," Elena said softly, but then her eyes turned hard. "But let me remind you that if I had to, I wouldn't have a problem cutting both their throats."

The truth in her words was like a blade to my throat, and I choked out my following words, "Well, you'll never get them together. I'm the only one who can do that."

I meant that they would never drop their guard around anyone. It was me they felt utterly bare and safe with.

Elena knew exactly what I was saying, and it annoyed her.

Her silverware clattered to the plate, and she scoffed. "Come on. Are you really bragging about that? There's something wrong with your love story, baby."

I rolled my eyes; here we go again, someone who didn't know anything about our relationship was chiming in and telling me how my husbands felt about me.

My face conveyed that without even speaking.

Elena smiled. She had hit a nerve and she knew it. "They may love you, but they will never love you as much as they love each other. Otherwise, they wouldn't share you, would they?"

AN: next chapter coming soon. Like in 30 mins or less.

Thanks for reading.