CHAPTER 28

Best believe I'm still bejeweled

When I walk in the room

I can still make the whole place shimmer

~ Taylor Swift, Bejeweled

BPOV

I collapsed onto the couch as soon as I got back to the penthouse. The new, perfectly pristine penthouse Edward quietly bought to cut down on travel time to the stadium for the next month.

It was an outrageously expensive thing for him to do, an over the top idea that I personally never would have thought of, but that part of me that tended to overthink or question whatever money the man spent on me had faded away many, many years ago.

"Poor little pop star," Kate sighed dramatically.

My eyes popped open, glaring at her from across the room where she sat in a cozy chair grinning at me.

I chuckled under my breath. I knew I had to look a little absurd, practically passed out on the pristine white couch still wearing the finale costume I had been too tired to change out of before heading home. "You always were good for my ego, Kate."

She snorted. "God knows how big it would be by this point without me," she chuckled, standing up from her spot and tugging my boots off of my feet. "Go change and I'll get the outfit back to wardrobe tomorrow morning."

I begrudgingly stood up, stopping in front of her and sliding my hair over my shoulder as she unzipped me. I let the bodysuit fall to the bathroom floor after climbing the staircase to the upper level of the penthouse. I wrapped myself in a robe quickly and padded over to the balcony edge that looked over the main level of the apartment.

Kate caught the garment with a smile. Shouting a quick, "See you tomorrow!" up at me before heading out.

I rolled my neck and shoulders and went straight for the shower. There was nothing quite as euphoric as finally feeling clean after a day of rehearsals. Especially one five days before opening night when everyone was starting to feel the pressure.

Warm hands settled on my hips from behind. I leaned back into him, taking a deep, calming breath as his hands slid around my waist and held me closer.

"Hi," I sighed, my arms wrapping over his. "How was the benefit?"

"Fucking awful," he grunted. He tried to hide it, that tone of his voice that told me he hadn't just been uninterested in the event itself. It was that slight snap, that lingering threat in his voice that most people might not have been able to notice that told me he was fighting against the urge to break something. Or someone.

His fingers tensed against my abdomen, lips brushing against my neck as he traced the line from my shoulder to ear. All of it a silent question that I answered with a tilt of my head back so he could press his lips to mine.

He pressed himself against me tighter, his cock hardening against my ass as he swallowed my moan. One of his hands slid down my abdomen and between my legs.

I squirmed against him, toes curling against the wet tile beneath my feet.

Edward guided me forward, his hands grasping mine and pressing them against the shower tile. His hands slid down my arms and over my chest, stopping at my hips as he pulled me tight against him.

He hesitated, just for a moment.

"Please," I gasped, not bothering to wait for him to tell me he should stop or I should be resting. "Fuck me."

He didn't need to be asked twice.

His grip on my hips would likely leave finger-tip shaped bruises for me to admire the next handful of days. My own fingertips clawed at the tile, finding no purchase but never giving up.

I felt myself tighten around his cock with every glorious moan and groan he let out from behind me.

I whimpered as he pulled away, twisting me in his arms and devouring me with a kiss before I could argue. He wrapped his hands around my thighs, hoisting me up easily and carrying me quickly from the warm shower to the cool bathroom counter.

Neither of us cared about the still-running water or the dripping mess we left across the floor. He set me on the counter, eyes blazing into mine with every firm, hard thrust.

"I'm yours," I breathed out against his chest with the little breath I had left in my lungs. "Always."

My head went slack between my shoulders, a moan stuck in my throat as I came. His own release had his groans muffled against my shoulder.

As soon as I was able to move my limbs again, my palms drifted down his chest. Over every beautiful inch of skin I could reach. Until a pop of color against the white granite of the countertop caught my eye.

I frowned, reaching down for his right hand. Careful of the plethora of scratches and smears of blood across his knuckles. I opened my mouth to ask what happened and felt him shrug against me.

"It was just a wall. Or two."

I sighed, disentangling myself from him and quickly cleaning myself up. I hastily tied a robe around myself before grabbing the generous first-aid kit I kept underneath the sink.

Neither of us said anything. Edward had a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist as he leaned against the counter, hand stretched out as he let me clean up the few deeper scratches.

I was absolutely not qualified to perform any medical treatment to anyone. Spending some time searching the internet and learning what I could about basic first aid was no medical degree, but I could bandage up a scratch or two, could do stitches in a pinch. Because I knew he would never go to the hospital, and would bitch and moan about calling a doctor over.

"Does anything feel broken?" I asked, eying the bruising already popping up on his knuckles. I leaned my hip against the counter, standing a few feet down from him where he mirrored my position.

He shook his head.

"Do you want to tell me why you punched a wall?"

"Do you want to lose the robe and see how fast I can make you come again?"

"Edward."

"Bella."

I huffed out a sigh. We were quite the pair. When Edward had a bad day, his coping mechanism was either a stiff drink or a hard fuck. Sometimes both. When I had a bad day I tended to cry in the corner of the shower. All valid options, I supposed, depending on the situation.

He closed the distance between us, his fingers toying with the flimsy knot of the robe around my waist. He brushed his lips along my jaw as he said, "I can think of a dozen better uses for those pretty little lips of yours than talking about this shit."

The thumb of his good hand brushed against my bottom lip before it gently slid past my lips.

I might have wrapped my tongue around his thumb and it was possible I accidentally scraped my teeth against it as he pulled it away. But I fully intended to ask what happened when I opened my mouth after.

I barely got one syllable out before his lips crashed into mine again. It was a little outrageous, that after decades with the man a kiss could have me completely at his mercy.

My toes curled against the tile and my arms reached up and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

I felt him smirk against my lips. I dug my teeth into his bottom one.

"You'll have to tell me eventually," I huffed out as he deftly maneuvered us out of the en-suite and into the bedroom. My back hit the mattress a moment before six glorious feet of him settled over me.

He didn't answer, instead slowly kissing his way down my abdomen.

–Love|Power–

He was gone by the time I woke up. Unsurprising, considering my current routine had me waking up around noon. But when I caught a glimpse of unruly copper hair out by the sound booth on my way to stage for a full run through that afternoon, I quickly detoured through the empty stadium.

The click of the blue and gold sparkly knee-high boots caught the attention of the small group gathered at the booth. The engineers frowned, eyed quickly going over their own station thinking something was wrong on their end.

I shook my head with a smile. "I just needed to steal my husband for a moment," I told them.

I was well aware of how un-intimidating I looked. Nothing was less serious than a sparkly, bedazzled bodysuit. But it didn't stop me from crossing my arms over my chest once we were out of earshot.

"This is hardly the time or place, Bella."

"Well this is where we have about ninety percent of our conversations these days, so it'll have to do."

His jaw flinched.

I was well aware of the fact that he had probably broken many men down with the same glare he sent my way, but I didn't back down.

"I have a brother," he grunted out.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I've unfortunately met Emmett quite a few times."

Despite himself, Edward choked out a laugh. "A half brother. He's the spitting fucking image of Carlisle and evidently working with O'Malley to claim what he seems to think is his birthright part of the city."

"Shit," I spat out reflexively.

I had no guesses as to what his problem could have been last night. But if it was bad enough to bother him enough for him to punch a wall and spend the rest of the night doing a damn good job at keeping us both from talking or thinking about it, I wanted to know. Needed to.

Because he was mine. And as much effort as I knew he put into protecting me on a daily basis, I was more than willing to do the same when needed.

"Are you sure?" I whispered.

Edward nodded.

As fucked as the situation was, I couldn't really say I was surprised. Carlisle was someone I was more than happy to forget about after his death. After finding out just how many times he had tried to screw over his own family. The idea of him having an affair was the least of his crimes.

In a sick, twisted way it was as if he were still fucking with us, even from the grave.

I opened my mouth, unsure which of the hundreds of questions I had would come out. I didn't get a chance to ask as Ben cleared his throat as he approached.

"They're here," was all he said, his focus on Edward.

I frowned. "Who?"

"New security," Edward told me before turning toward Ben. "I'll be there in a minute."

My eyes widened, but I bit my tongue.

"Go ahead," Edward said after Ben left.

"I didn't say anything."

"You want to."

I sighed. "There's already a lot of security, Edward," I said hesitantly.

I didn't like complaining about security. Had only done it a handful of times since the only time I put up a big fight about it ended up with me being shot. But I really didn't know how more people would fit into the mix here. The stage was lined, every inch of the backstage area had a badge check every other corner.

He even had a woman constantly stationed in my quick change area. Her name was Maria and she was not a fan of chatting.

"It's as much for you as it is for the nearly eighty thousand other people who will be here each night."

I huffed out a sigh, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything else. Then Kate called for me from across the bustling stadium.

"Everything will be fine," Edward said, though his eyes weren't as convinced. "I'm taking care of it."

I nodded. "Okay," I sighed, reaching up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. I had only talked a few steps away when he called my name and I turned back toward him.

"Thank you," he told me quietly.

My bed cocked to the side. "For what?"

He smiled. "Just being you."

Kate caught up to me and pulled me away before I could respond. And a mere three hours and twenty-three minutes later I was pulling my in-ears out as we walked side by side back to my dressing room.

As was our routine after a rehearsal, I prattled off everything from the mental list I had made throughout the show that needed tweaking. "And the zipper on the orange skirt still sticks," I finished.

Kate nodded. "On it."

"Do you know where Edward is?" I asked, frowning around at my empty dressing room.

"Down the hall, one of the empty dressing rooms," she shouted from the hallway.

I changed quickly, nearly moaning in comfort as I slid my arms through the oversized sweatshirt and soft leggings. I grabbed my bottle of water, sipping leisurely as I went to search for my husband.

Every security member I came across pointed me down the hall until one stopped and nodded at a dressing room. I knocked quietly on the door as I pushed it open.

"How long did you serve?" Edward asked as I walked in.

"Twelve years in the Marines, Sir," one of the dozen of men gathered around the room said.

I bit my tongue as I eyed the group. Edward and Ben intermingled amongst a group of about a dozen men. Each one somehow more intimidating than the last. Most of them made Emmett look tiny. They all tensed and straightened as I walked in.

I had been around my fair share of security, been around plenty of men who had tried their best to intimidate me. But these men were a different league.

I cleared my throat, standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Hi," I said with a wave.

Edward walked over, arm sliding around my waist as he angled me away from the crowd. "They're just a few extra members of security."

"One of them was a Marine?"

Edward hesitated then said, "All of them were Marines."

My eyes slid over his shoulder. I knew most of the security that worked for the family had intense backgrounds, but I also knew a Marine was about as tough as it got. "So that's why they all look like they could snap me like a twig."

"No one is snapping you like a twig," he sighed, though I could have sworn the corner of his lips twitched. "I'll meet you in your dressing room in a few minutes."

I sighed, but reached up and pressed my lips to his cheek.

Alistair followed me down the hall, accompanied by two of the Marines.

–Love|Power–

Walking through the halls of the stadium, Alistair and two Marines whose names I hadn't worked up the courage to ask for silently tailing me, I skidded to a stop as I heard my opener snap out an impressive string of curses to someone over the phone. She was in her dressing room, no one else in sight.

"Everything okay?" I asked, peaking my head through the doorway.

"No," she said immediately, before her head snapped in my direction. "Yes. Sorry. I'm fine."

I raised a brow.

"Label is just being…"

I sighed with a nod. There were very few genuine artists these days. We were living in an age where the bare minimum could make someone millions, so why bother with the effort of making something more? Something good?

This girl put out her debut album at seventeen. An honest, country-leaning album about the highs–and mostly lows– of girlhood that people could actually relate to. Her follow up got her Album of the Year at the Grammys. Won her every country music award out there. And had her high school sweetheart turned country heartthrob boyfriend leaving her behind because she had far surpassed any level of success he would ever get.

It was a complicated and messy situation. The country music scene was brutal for a woman. But she had held her own time and time again. She had played me her new stuff. Very pop stuff. Stuff a country label would not appreciate or know what to do with.

"Offer still stands," I told her.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask. I offered."

I could see it in her eyes, that fire that could make her unstoppable if she got rid of the fear clouding it. "It's no strings attached. If you want a spot at Millenium, it's yours. If you want to shop around for a new label, I don't blame you. But they're already threatened by your success, and they're going to hold you back. You know it."

It was hard to not know about the situation. Her spot opening for the tour aside, she was in the news just about as much as I was. Her ex-boyfriend was a petty bastard, and signed on the same label as her. I had offered to buy her out of her contract weeks ago, mostly because I was tired of seeing his smug face.

"Why… why would you do that for me if you're not getting anything in return?"

I appreciated the bluntness of her question, so I gave her a brutally honest answer in return. "Because there is nothing I love more than fucking over the men in this industry who think they can tell me or anyone else what to do."

It was a concept that typically made people nervous, because Hollywood had operated the same way for decades and that was how people thought it was supposed to stay. But when her lips twitched with a barely perceptible smile, I knew I had chosen wisely.

–Love|Power–

I sat in the highest section of the stadium, back against the wall as I watched a final run through of the visuals. I had a notebook in my lap, still blissfully empty as I made it to the end without a single note.

I watched Aiden climb up and plop down in the row in front of me. "Did you poach–"

"Yes."

"You paid ten million to get her out of her contract?"

"Yes."

"I mean this in the most loving way possible, but it's no wonder nobody in this business likes you."

I coughed out a laugh. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah. You have a few minutes?"

"Of course," I told him with a smile. I could practically hear Kate huff in the distance because technically, I didn't. My days were planned out to the minute with rehearsal and finalizing the edits of folklore and squeezing in talks with Holly.

"I don't know how you started and ran a production company with a child," Aiden sighed, hopping over the seats and sitting beside me. "While balancing your own career at the same time."

"If its too much–"

"No," he interrupted. "I want it. "It's just–I mean–I've worked with Dad for a long time. Every other person he meets tries to stab him in the back. Sometimes quite literally. But Hollywood… Christ it's worse than the fucking mob."

I snorted out a laugh. "Yeah. It is."

"You know Bob Greene? The head of–"

"I know him." He was the head of the biggest animated movie company in the business. Animated movies had never been my thing, so we hadn't worked together much.

"He's called a few times, wants to build a 'working relationship' with Cullen Productions. He even sent a big box of toys and games and costumes over to the house for Ella. Then called me this morning as offered to have her be the voice of–"

"No," I interrupted.

Aiden nodded. "I know it's a bribe. I don't know what exactly he wants from me, but Ella would love it. I know she would."

"He wants the Cullen name on his movie poster. And he's willing to use your five-year-old daughter to do it."

Aiden winced. "But if she wants it, does he still win?"

"Yes." I took a minute, trying to think of how best to say what I needed. "If Ella never changes her mind, if she's as adamant about getting into the industry when she's eighteen as she is now, then we'll get her in it. But not a second before she can make that choice for herself."

Aiden frowned. "Isn't eighteen…"

"Old? Yes. But the reason parents turn their kids into child actors is because they think that's the only way to get their foot in the door. Ella doesn't need that foot in the door. She can take her time and enjoy her childhood. And if or when the time comes and she makes the informed choice for herself, I will make damn sure she has every fucking opportunity. But not until she knows what she's getting into."

It still petrified me, the idea of that sweet, innocent, pure little girl anywhere near the industry I grew up in. If she wanted in, she was going to know what she was getting into. And every single fucking person in town would know if they put a hand on her I would skin them alive.

"I mean, it's your decision," I added quickly, not wanting to be that overbearing mother who told her adult children what to do. How to raise their children. "You're her father. But that's my professional opinion."

Aiden nodded.

We were both quiet for a few minutes. I relished in the few seconds to breathe without having to make some kind of decision.

"This," he said with a sweep of his hand to the view in front of us of the massive stage and hundreds of crew members milling around. "Is fucking insane, you know that, right?."

"Oh, I know," I nodded.

–Love|Power–

The final rehearsal was long over. A majority of the crew was gone. But I sat in the center of the diamond of the stage, unable to bring myself to move. To go home and get some much needed sleep or go find some food or a warm shower.

I had spent far too much time in the last few months thinking about how I ended up here. Analyzing every decision I had ever made, every interaction and every conversation. Wondering what made me the kind of person to crave the camaraderie of singing in a room with eighty-thousand other people in order to feel understood.

His steps would have been silent had I not spent decades listening to them. He sat down beside me, legs stretching out in front of him.

"It's late," he said softly.

I nodded, eyes scanning every empty seat that would be filled in a matter of hours now.

"Nobody ever understood me when I was a kid," I admitted eventually. "I don't think–I don't remember the name of a single person I went to school with. I didn't have any friends. Didn't have people to talk to or confide in. But then I found them and they–they cared. And I know some people take it too far and I know people are fickle but a lot of them have been here since the beginning. A lot of them are the kids of people who were there since the beginning. And I just–"

I took a deep breath. "All I've ever wanted is to give them that same feeling that they give me. Of being understood for once. Of being accepted."

After another moment of silence warm fingers brushed against my chin and tilted my head toward his. "You do, Bella."

I shook my head. "You don't know that."

He scoffed quietly. "You haven't been outside of this stadium or rehearsals in weeks. The entire city is… buzzing. Electrified. People are ecstatic. They feel it, Bella."

I sighed, head falling to his shoulder. "I hope so."

A/N: I'm so sorry about the delay, but I hope you guys enjoyed this one.

Our little country-turned-pop opener might be a hint at a little plot bunny that's been floating around in my head the last few weeks. Most likely the story I'll be working on next once I finish Mine + the ttds sequel :)

Also, ffn seems to be glitching like crazy lately. I keep getting a message saying my email notifs are being rejected by my email for some reason when theres no reason they should be. Hopefully you all actually got notified of this update! I do keep things updated on ao3 as well, just so you guys know.

See you next time!