CHAPTER 3

I don't know what you want from me

When I'm sunburnt lips and summer feet

I'm tattered like these Levi jeans

Punch-wasted on redundancy

~ Halsey, You Asked for This

BPOV

For days I relived every memory I could scrounge up with Lawrence. I remembered everything from the kind smile he gave me the moment I met him to the comforting words he whispered to me before my very first audition. Every goddamn praise from months and months together on a dozen different sets floated through my brain and I still couldn't figure out how things ended up like this.

How that man–the one who was more of a father to me than any of the two I had been saddled down with–was using me just as much as everyone else in the business and I had no fucking clue.

They were always easy to spot: the people who didn't care about you and only saw you as a dollar sign. Label executives and producers and company heads, they all had a bottom line that they cared about more than anything else. It was why when I became a label executive and producer and the head of a production company I tried my damndest to make sure no one ever felt like I cared more about the money than them. Than their craft. Their health.

Because I had been pushed to the brink a dozen times. I had filmed action scenes with broken ribs and sprained ankles and ended more days than I cared to admit in a bath full of ice just so I would be able to do it all over again the next morning.

A lot of that happened while I was working for Lawrence. I had always been willing to push myself harder than I could handle for him, because I thought he cared. Because I thought he deserved that extra effort after everything he had done for me.

He did care, evidently. About himself. His legacy.

Everyone in this business was working toward the legacy they wanted to leave behind. Myself included. It took me years to recover from the trial, and I knew it still followed me around wherever I went. But I thought I was set. I had the production company and label, all pushing out consistently quality content. I had a talent agency that made sure all of our clients were taken care of and not used or abused. I had a Lifetime Achievement Academy Award named after me.

I was set. I was supposed to be set.

If there was one person who knew me well enough to destroy all of that, it was Lawrence. He practically had a camera crew assigned to capture my every move from the ages of sixteen to nineteen as we filmed the Tainted series. For behind-the-scenes content, or so I was told. Now I couldn't help but wonder if he had been playing an excellent long game.

I had no memory of a camera being there the night I had my breakdown, but I had no doubt there was. He would have to rely on public footage after that, but he'd have an excellent exclusive with that breakdown. With the early years that formed the monster I had become.

I've spent the last few years putting together an in-depth documentary exploring Bella's career, her trial, her mafia connections, all of it.

I was a public figure. Most footage of me, unless I took it myself, was fair game for him to use. And he was right. If there was anyone out there who could completely and utterly obliterate my image, it was Lawrence.

Because I trusted him. Enough to talk to him, confide in him. Visit him whenever we were in town at the same time, complain to him whenever things were bad. He was my friend. The closest thing I had to a father figure. And he was more than capable of royally fucking me over.

I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my head into my blanket, refusing to let anymore tears fall.

The clink of a dish being set down on the bedside table had my eyes popping open. Edward knelt beside me, tired green eyes studying my face.

"You didn't eat your lunch," he said quietly, eyes flickering over to the untouched sandwich he brought me a few hours ago.

I hadn't left our bedroom in days. Edward was the only one I had seen since we watched Lawrence's interview. And I had no plans on changing that anytime soon.

Sitting up, I brushed my hair out of my face and crossed my legs underneath me. "I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten anything in fourteen hours."

I had no appetite, and the stew tasted like sand in my mouth, but I grabbed the bowl and didn't stop begrudgingly eating it until it was empty. It wasn't on purpose, the not eating thing. Whenever I was stressed or overwhelmed or anxious, food was the last thing on my mind. Another lovely habit I had picked up at sixteen.

Edward got into bed beside me and I quickly plastered myself against his side. He hadn't pushed me to do anything besides eat. He worked in the seating area of our bedroom everyday, never leaving me alone for more than a few minutes to bring me food or take a call. He wrapped himself around me and I welcomed the few blissful hours of reprieve sleep would give me.

–Love|Power–

My eyes popped open at the sound of whispers coming from the hallway.

"She hasn't left the room in four days," Aiden muttered.

Edward's voice was firm and final. "She needs time."

"Well, she doesn't have it."

Kate.

I didn't have time to process why she was here before I heard small footsteps pound through the room and the blanket that had been wrapped securely around me was pulled out from underneath me. Sending me falling to the floor with a thud.

"What the fuck, Kate?" I seethed, frowning up at her from the floor.

"When was the last time you showered?"

I rolled my eyes. I might have spent the last four days in bed, but I did take the time to at least shower once a day. "Yesterday."

"Good. Get up. Get dressed. We're all downstairs waiting for you."

"Who is 'we'?"

"You have ten minutes before I drag you downstairs myself."

She turned to leave before she caught the brunt of my glare. I heard her order Edward and Aiden downstairs as she left, and listened as three sets of feet retreated from the hall. I had spent enough years with Kate as my personal assistant to know she would drag me downstairs if she needed to, so I reluctantly got off of the floor and sulked over to the en suite.

I brushed my teeth and pulled my hair into a ponytail. Trudging over to my closet, I pulled on a pair of leggings and a plain gray t-shirt and decided it was good enough. Heading downstairs, for the first time in days, I felt an undeniable pull to run back to my bedroom and lock the door.

Rounding the corner, I saw Edward and Aiden near mirrors of each other as they leaned against the fireplace and listened to the women in the living room. Kate, Heidi, and Claire.

I let out a sigh as I entered the room, making a beeline for the cart of expensive liquor Edward kept off to the side. "I'll save you all the trouble of firing me and give my share of the agency to Kate."

I made the mistake of checking my email two days ago. I was as good as out of my own production company and label. Figuratively, because I owned the fucking companies, but they all wanted me out. Because I, the girl whose career had been bought, wasn't good for the company image.

Pouring whatever liquor my fingers touched first into a crystal glass, I turned and eyed the small group. Heidi and Claire were nearly retired, not taking on any new clients at the firm and mostly overseeing everyone else. Kate too.

"You really think we'd do that?" Claire asked, frowning over at me.

I shrugged. "Everyone else did."

"They can't," Edward snapped. "You own the companies. They can't force you out for this."

"I'm not going to let the companies crumble just because I was too stubborn to leave."

Aiden's eyes flared. "You're leaving the production company and label?"

I nodded.

Kate exploded. "Don't be so dramatic, Bella."

"I'm not–"

"We've been through this before, and we'll get through it again. We–"

"I don't want to do it again, Kate!" I shouted. "I'm so fucking tired. I'm done trying to prove myself over and over again. I can't do it anymore. I can't."

I swallowed every drop of the whisky that had ended up in my glass and immediately poured another two fingers. Vehemently ignoring the sting of tears behind my eyes.

"Yes, you can," Kate said calmly, walking over and taking the glass from my shaking hand. "I know you're tired and I know you've done this a dozen times before, but you can't go out like this."

Her words were like a punch to the gut. I didn't want to go out at all. I loved my jobs, all of them. The talent agency and the production company and the label. I loved making music and acting and I always would.

But it was still ringing in my ears. The sound of an arena full of people booing. If one quote from Lawrence made them do that, an entire documentary would be the end of my career. Whether I wanted to quit or not.

"I don't really think it's my choice anymore, Kate," I whispered.

"It's always your choice," Edward interjected. "I can–"

"Edward," I hissed. Over Kate's shoulder, I saw him shrug. Not phased at all to be offering up murder.

"It's still an option."

It didn't get past me, the way all of my friends, the women who had been by my side from the very beginning, seemed to give Edward's offer some serious consideration.

"You don't have to make any decisions right now," Heidi offered. "But The Academy is taking Lawrence's accusation seriously. They're meeting tomorrow to…"

"To decide whether to kick me out or not," I huffed.

"Lawrence, too," Claire said. "I don't know what his endgame was with this–admitting he took a bribe. If it's true."

"They won't kick him out. He's got too many connections."

"You have connections, too," Aiden offered.

"I've got a longer rap sheet than Lawrence."

"You'll go to the meeting, though?" Kate asked.

It wouldn't change much. If The Academy kicked me out, it would make my decision for me. If they didn't…If they didn't, I wasn't sure what I would do.

I nodded. "I'll go."

–Love|Power–

The next afternoon, I sat in a plush conference room in downtown Chicago. It could be taken as a good sign that the committee investigating Lawrence's claims had made the trip here to meet with me. But as I sat on one side of the long mahogany table and eyed each of the five men across from me, I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something I would regret.

I had been in this position a few hundred times. In a room where men in expensive suits tried to tell me what to do or how to act. Where they told me to smile more or be grateful for the opportunity they were giving me. It had been a struggle since I was nineteen not to tell them all to fuck off.

I wasn't sure what the point of the meeting was. They asked me if I knew about the bribe and I told them no. I had been questioned by highly trained FBI agents during my trial as they tried to get me to flip on my husband in exchange for my own freedom and these five Hollywood elitists seemed to think their basic questions would somehow catch me in a lie.

"We're in a bit of a tough position, Bella," one of the men said with a fake sigh.

"Are you?"

"Bribery isn't tolerated–"

"I didn't do anything. I neither made nor accepted a bribe. Have you lectured Lawrence yet? Told him about the tough position he put you in?"

Heidi kicked me underneath the table. All five men frowned over at me.

"We have. He–"

"Sorry I'm late," Lawrence's voice boomed through the room. He walked in, confident in his well-pressed suit. It sent a burning rage through my veins to know that I could have helped pay for that suit. I had made the man millions and he had the audacity to throw it all in my face.

Lawrence sat down a few seats down the table, a cocky smile aimed at me. I couldn't take my eyes off of it, even as one of the suits started speaking.

"We thought a… mediation of sorts might help."

My attention snapped to him; to the short blonde hair that was flooded with too much product and the fake tan that covered his skin. The man had enough sense to quickly hide the sudden fear behind his eyes.

"Help what?" I growled. "I'm not here for a therapy session. I'm here for you to tell me whether or not you're kicking me out of The Academy over a rumor when there are far more substantial claims against other members for far worse crimes. Most of those happen to be men, though, so they don't get dragged into degrading meetings, do they?"

"Mrs. Cullen–"

"Am I in or out?"

"It's not that simple. We need to–"

"In or out?" I snapped.

"We have no concrete proof of any bribery," one of the men said quietly.

"She's done nothing but cause problems," another hissed.

Ten seconds. Ten seconds and I would remove myself. I could spend the rest of my days on the island with Edward, worried about nothing but the sun and the ocean.

"She's Isabella Cullen. We can't just–"

"We can. Bribery is explicitly forbidden."

Five seconds.

The quiet man spoke up, an air of authority in his voice despite his calm demeanor. "If Lawrence is staying, she's staying."

"Fine," I huffed. "Are we done here?"

"You're welcome," one of them snipped.

You're welcome.

Again, I was supposed to be appreciative that these men hadn't kicked me out of The Academy over a rumor. Over an unsupported claim that a man I had never met at the time bought my career, when they had already decided not to punish the man who had admitted to taking the money. I was supposed to put a smile on my face and thank them and be the good little actress that they wanted me to be.

I stood, Heidi and Claire doing the same. Making eye contact with each one of them, I landed on the man in the center. Obviously the one in charge, and obviously the one who wanted to go down in history as the man who ousted me from The Academy.

Done, I thought. I am done.

"I'm withdrawing my membership from The Academy. Effective immediately."

All of their faces fell, none of them bothering to attempt to keep their composure. Even Lawrence looked up at me with wide eyes. I heard quiet gasps from the women beside me, but they never faltered as they followed me out.

Heidi and Claire followed me out, flanked me as we headed through the mostly empty office floor and entered the elevator. Neither said anything as I got in the waiting SUV with Alistair and left them staring wide eyed after me.

Once I got home, I stormed straight to my office. Accosted by the wall covered in shiny statues from nearly forty years in an industry that was always willing to turn on me in the blink of an eye. Every twenty-hour day flashed behind my eyes, every concussion and bruise and night spent away from my husband and son. All of the men who had the nerve to try and tell me what to do just because they wanted to control me.

I had been in a constant battle of control with everyone. Charlie and Renee wanted the conservatorship, Lawrence wanted the conservatorship. Aro had some long game in the works where I had no doubt he wanted to use me as some weapon. Every label executive and producer always knew better.

The shattering of the window registered in my mind before the fact that an Academy Award had flown through my hands did. An alarm started blaring through the house, but it didn't stop me from launching a Grammy through another window. I had another Oscar in my hand, ready to launch, when a warm hand wrapped around my wrist.

"Bella," Edward sighed, carefully taking the heavy statue out of my hands.

"I tried so hard," I gasped, eyes flooded with tears that barely blurred the panic on my husband's face. "I tried so hard to be good enough."

Firm fingers clenched around my chin. "You have always been good enough, Bella. More than good enough."

"No, I…" I shook my head, panic suddenly making my hands shake. My chest burned, heart beating too fast and thumping a deafening pace in my ears.

My legs gave out underneath me, only Edward's firm grip around my waist keeping me from falling. He set me down carefully on the couch, kneeling in front of me and grasping both of my shaking hands and placing them on his chest.

"Breathe, Bella," he said calmly, taking a deep breath of his own. Then another. And another. "You have to breathe, baby."

I was, but it was useless. The quick gasps of air did little to fill my lungs.

"No," Edward warned the moment I squeezed my eyes shut. "Eyes on me. Breathe."

I felt his chest rise and fall beneath my hands and tried my best to match the rhythm. My breaths were shaky and uneven but eventually my lungs didn't feel like they were on fire. I saw Edward's lips moving but it was hard to hear him over the booing that echoed in my ears.