A/N Thank you so much for all the love so far, I'm completely blown away ❤️
PearlyFox pre-reads (go check out her recent fic: If Love Could Kill - it's awesome) and Fran S-Flower makes it flow.
Enjoy!
Chapter Two: Fetch
Bella
xXx
"When do you meet your new bodyguard?"
I turn my head to Rose. We're lying on my bed, half watching a shitty reality TV program, too high to focus on anything.
"Soon," I tell her, already smirking. I wonder how long it'll take me to break this one. My record is Riley; he only lasted three days.
"Why does he keep trying?" Rose asks her words slurring a little. "Your house is already guarded better than a fucking prison, it's not like your famous."
I ignore her. I can't be bothered to have this conversation. Rose wouldn't understand; she doesn't know who my father is. None of my friends do. To them, he's just a wealthy businessman, and seeing as they're all just as rich as I am, they don't understand the need for the security, the secrecy.
I've had bodyguard after bodyguard over the past two years, ever since my father decided to make a move on Cinna and take the crown.
I hate it.
Stuck without any freedom, any independence. I never fucking see Charlie, not that I want to after what he did.
Punishing him by making my bodyguards quit, that's just part of it. Every time I sneak out of this house, I'm saying fuck you, every time I go against his orders, against what he wants, I'm sticking it to him. I don't need a fucking minder, I just want to be left alone.
As if on cue, I hear the sounds of footsteps against floorboards, and I lean up on my forearms to find Emmett, my dad's consigliere, and my cousin, filling the doorway with his large body.
Before Charlie became the head of our family, it was his brother, Anton. Though back then, there was no overlord in New York, and the Five Families ruled their own. Ten years ago, Anton, his wife, and three of their kids were burned alive in a house by Sorano, another one of the Five, over a territory infraction. Emmett was the only survivor, their mistake. Because even though he was only sixteen, he and my dad hunted down Sorano and killed his wife, all five of his children, and then finally him, leaving his cousin Michel Sorano to take over the business.
After that, Emmett moved in with us. We grew up together, and the nine-year age gap between us never stopped us from being close. He's the only one I'm still close to now.
Emmett's light blue eyes flick to Rose, who's laying in her underwear, and he arches a brow at me, his lips curving up. "You batting for the other team now, Cygnet?"
"She wishes," I say playfully. Rose is too high to get the joke, so she just sighs happily.
Emmett notices. "What'd you take?"
I hold up my index finger and thumb, an invisible pill between them. "Just a little mood booster."
He sighs but doesn't comment. It's why I like Emmett. He might be my dad's bitch, but he has my back. At least, he has my back as long as I don't go directly against my father.
"Get her out of here."
I purse my lips, "Can you drive her home?"
Emmett gives me a frustrated look.
"She's high as shit, she can't fucking walk. Why does she have to go anyway?"
"You know why," Emmett says, walking over to the bed. "Get dressed, Rosalie."
Rose blinks up at him, "Oh, Emmett," she lets out a soft sigh that's almost a moan, and I snort. Rose wants Emmett's dick bad, but he's not interested in the least.
It's not because he doesn't find her attractive; Rose is gorgeous, with long wavy blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a sweet smile. She's my best friend, my sister, the person I would literally step in front of a bullet for.
Emmett chuckles, finding Rose's shirt and throwing it at her chest. "I'll take you home trouble, come on."
"Sure you don't want…" Rose trails off sleepily, so we don't hear the rest of what I'm sure would have been an eloquent request for Emmett to rail her.
I take mercy and help her put on her shirt and shorts. Emmett then slings her over his shoulder, her willowy frame somehow looking graceful as she hangs there, her eyes closed. Emmett glances back at me from the door.
"Your dad's bringing home the new cagna. Try to be decent to this one, Cygnet; we just want you protected."
I roll off the bed and grab my sketchbook, sitting in the wide window seat, the afternoon sun warming my face through the glass.
"Fuck that," I tell Emmett with a sweet smile, turning my head away from him.
I hear his footsteps retreat, and I settle back a little, glancing out of the window. Our townhouse overlooks a perfect street, trees all neatly lined up, houses replicating each other as far as the eye can see. There's not a single car driving past or parked out front. All of the houses have underground garages, and a cab wouldn't dare drive down this road.
I hate this street.
I hate this house.
Wet feet against the floor, water spilling from under the doorway.
My fingers twitch, and I take out a pencil, sketching a design that's been playing around in my head the past few days; it's intricate and takes concentration, enough concentration to distract me from other thoughts, from memories I want to forget. The soft scratch of pencil to paper calms me better than any drug, but the pill I took with Rose took the edge off, and my mind feels lighter for it.
The loud sound of voices downstairs, stirs me out of the trance I was in, and I blink, leaning back a little to stare at what I've done. The pinpoint focus when I'm drawing makes it hard to see the picture as a whole, but it's coming together slowly. I need to try and do it with color, but it almost looks how I imagined it.
"Isabella!" Charlie calls from downstairs.
I grit my teeth and place the sketchbook gently on the window seat, walking through my room. My king-sized bed is directly in front of the door, and I grab a scrunchie from it, throwing my waist-length brown hair up into a ponytail. I glance at my reflection in the mirror at the vanity by my bed and scan my face, checking to see if I look high. My pupils are back to normal size, revealing the latticeworks of brown, blue, and green that make up my strange eye color. My chest pangs a little as I stare at myself. I look so much like my mother with my hair like this. I put my hair in a messy bun instead, then slowly walk out the door, wanting to irritate Charlie with my recalcitrance.
He's standing in the foyer with the usual suspects, Eric, a tall dark-haired man who always looks like he's about to lose his shit. The red-headed Jimmy, who I've fondly called Ginny since I was eight, and Marcus, who looks high as shit, his pale gray eyes unfocused and pupils tiny. They're like my uncles, my dad's best friends, his captains. Ruthless assholes, but they're family, or they were anyway. I haven't spoken to any of them fondly since…
Since …
"So, where is he?" I ask from the top of the stairs. "My new puppy…"
Three sets of eyes swivel to me, and Charlie makes a disapproving tut. "Isabella…"
I arch my brow, "Well?"
The front door opens, and my breath catches in my chest at the gorgeous-looking man standing in the frame. His skin is pale and clear, his angular jaw stubble-free, high cheekbones dusted with a light shade of pink. Perfect, soft-looking lips rest under a gently sloped nose, and above it, the most vivid, emerald-green eyes stare back at me, surrounded by long, thick black lashes I'm instantly jealous of.
His hair is reddish-brown and cut fairly short, a few strands sticking up across his forehead. My eyes trail down his body, noting the way the material hangs from his defined chest. His arms are corded with lean muscle, and I can see hints of tattoos peeking out from under his pale blue T-shirt, enticing lines and shapes that give nothing away from what the full design holds. That secret lies under black cotton. Dark denim jeans cling to his muscular thighs, cut off by a pair of well-beaten black boots.
Charlie clears his throat, "Are you done, Isabella?" I snap my head to his, glaring, and he meets it with a glare of his own. "This is your new bodyguard. You can call him Masen."
"I'll call him whatever I want," I say snarkily, turning my head back to the beautiful man. Just because he's gorgeous and I'd happily lick every inch of his body, it doesn't mean I'm not going to make him quit. "I'm thinking...Fido. How do you like the sound of that?" I smirk at him. He arches a brow at me but says nothing.
Something warm flickers in the pit of my stomach at his blatant arrogance, he doesn't even look slightly annoyed.
"Doesn't it speak?" I say to Ginny, pouting a little. "Not even a little woof."
His lips curve up, but he doesn't say anything. He wouldn't. He's my father's bitch, just like they all are.
"So, Masen, this is Isabella, as you can see, she's a fucking delight," Charlie says through clenched teeth.
"Why so grumpy, Daddy?" I ask him, cocking my head. "It's not like you to show emotion."
"Stop talking shit, or you won't leave this house for a week, understood?" Charlie snaps.
I pretend to zip up my mouth and throw away the key, turning back to look at the new bodyguard. He's not looking at me, a bored expression on his face, and I find it very annoying.
"Well...thanks for calling me down for this invigorating discussion." I declare, giving them a sarcastic smile. "I'm going out now. Here boy…" I call to the bodyguard, "shall we go for... walkies?" I ask excitedly. He just stares at me, and I let out a sad sigh, "I didn't have time to pick up a new collar or leash, so you'll have to just settle for staying at my side instead. You can do heel, right Fido?"
Masen just nods at me, his facial expression calm, those beautiful green eyes clear and disinterested.
I feel a rush of anger go through my chest. How am I not pissing him off?
"Well, aren't you a good boy?" I coo, my eyes practically burning into his face.
Masen's lips twitch, and my rage intensifies, my fists clenching. Is he finding this amusing? I am going to break him.
I breeze past my father and uncles and click my fingers at the bodyguard. "Get me my jacket, it's the brown one."
He steps past me and opens the side cupboard. He's even more attractive up close, towering above me, his muscled body dwarfing mine.
I can smell cigarettes and something sweet and musky underneath it, a mix of apple and honey and maple wood.
Masen takes out a brown jacket, then steps up to me and holds it out, his green eyes meeting mine. I ignore the jolt that goes through my lower belly and snatch it from him. I hold it for a moment and then shake my head. "Nope, not that one." I hold it back out to him.
He takes it and puts it away, then pulls out another one, stopping in front of me with it. Again, I take it, then shake my head. "Actually, brown doesn't go with this outfit, so let's try black."
Masen stares at me for a moment, then drops the jacket on the floor. "Get it yourself," he shrugs.
My mouth falls open, and I whirl to Charlie, "Are you going to let him speak to me like that?"
Charlie bursts into laughter, along with Ginny, Eric, and Marcus. "Didn't know you had the balls, kid." He guffaws. "No fucker has ever dared to defy her before, especially with me right here."
"Apologies, boss," Masen says respectfully.
My father's fucking bitch, just like the others. Anger curls in my belly.
"Don't apologize, carry on." Charlie chuckles.
I scowl at him before turning back to the attractive man in front of me.
Masen gives me a bored expression, and I take a shuddering breath, my body practically vibrating with anger.
"Tell him which jacket you actually want, and I'm sure he'll get it for you." Charlie offers, snorting.
"The. White. One." I hiss through clenched teeth.
Masen picks the garment off the floor and puts it away, rummaging around and holding out a white one to me. I snatch it from him, forcing down my anger and giving him a pat on the chest. He flinches, and my eyes light up. Doesn't like touching; that's useful to know. "There's a good boy." I coo, tapping him again.
For the first time, I see a flicker of something in those green eyes, but it's gone so fast I wonder if I imagined it.
He opens the door for me, and I march out, not looking back, his heavy footsteps behind mine the only sound on the empty, barren street.
A/N ~ What do you think of Bella?
Fido isn't going to take this lying down...let the Wicked Games begin ❤️
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