Peace Pray and Work
Chapter one ~ Renesmee POV
I was sitting in my bedroom getting ready for tonight's dinner. I was still getting use to being back home in America having spent most of my life in a boarding school in Yorkshire, England. Ampleforth College had spent the last 8 years driving in catholic values into my skull as part of my education. I was the first girl in the family to finish high school let alone achieve GSCEs all achieving A or higher. Core Christian theology was a hell especially when I was also expected to speak perfect Latin, I wanted to take Greek but would rather take Latin then return home before my exams. A threat I believed where my grandfather was concerned. He declared that if he was going to be spending so much on my education, he wanted me to be able to recite the scripture in its original language. Thankfully, I left school with not 3 but 4 A levels. I wasn't allowed to just drop Christian theology, so it worked out I was studying for 5 subjects although I didn't sit an exam at the end on my catholic values. English literature, History and Biology got me all A*, I got an A in theatre studies.
Along with playing on the hockey team I also took part in archery and shooting. In fact, I had the best shot in my school many put it down to me being an American. I learnt to be fluent in Spanish and Italian I also enjoyed volunteering my time helping other kids with special needs in the area plant gardens and vegetables in a charity programme run by the school. The point of this is at the boarding school I had a life. I was popular, successful and if I had a typically normal family, if my father was only just a successful business man then I would be able to attend any university I desired. I still had the pile of acceptance letters hiding away in my drawer hoping that when I was summoned back home I could convince my grandfather to let me either attend Harvard or go back to England to attend there.
It was hypocritical my grandfather sending me to a school whose moto was "pax, ora et labora" which translated into English means peace, pray and work. Sure, my family prayed, they went to church every Sunday mass; a heavy wad of cash was placed into the collection box and further donations were made twice a year for charity events that the church organised. Every child born received a baptism and once that child turned 7 years old they are dressed for their first communion and confession. I still remember my first communion I remember it because it was the first time, I wore a pair of heels. It was only a small chunky heel which would be no problem for me know but my aunt insisted I wore the floral embroidered pumps to give me height to my small frame. Even the veil was too long for me and the lace looked like I could wear it as a wedding veil. It didn't help that I was the only girl that had a pink flora flowers around the bottom of my dress. My mother demanded that the silk flowers be stitched on after complaining that a pure white gown did nothing for my complexion. I stuck out like a swore thumb with all the other rich kids. The only issue was I tripped heading in to the confession box and landed in a heap. Luckily the priest gave me a couple of minutes to compose myself before proceeding.
A confession was something very important in my family it was like therapy. It was the only time they could truly reveal what all bad things they had done and was able to seek forgiveness. God likes to forgive those that donate generously to his cause. It was a requirement because the only time my family's business was brought up was in the confession box simply because priests couldn't reveal if a person had committed a crime. So, despite my family working, nothing was never peaceful. Not even my parent's marriage had any notion of peace to it. I had been in a boarding school since I was 10, I first thought I was going on a holiday after one of my parents' notorious fights which resulted in expensive vases and sculptures being thrown across the room and a champagne bottle being flung directly into a maid's eye. I felt sorry of the poor maid she had only been working for us for a week and hadn't learnt to avoid being caught in the cross fire. I had learnt that lesson at age 5 after my father taking out his gun and firing a warning shot since my mother was away to charge at him; nails at the ready to scratch his face up. Only the warning shot tore into my sides flesh causing me to have a scar on my right-hand side. I didn't know what they were fighting about, it could have been my mother finding out about my father's many mistresses, or my father could have seen that my mother spent $100,000 on a diamond massage or it could be about the fact that my brother was still missing.
There was seven years difference between me and my brother Marco. It was a year after I went to Ampleforth, the last time seeing him was on the Christmas holidays that I had been told by mother superior that my brother had gone missing and that although they were looking for him, my family thought it best I stayed in Ampleforth and continued with my education. My brother had just turned 17 when he went missing. He was the only boy in my family and would be 25 years old and already apart of the family business. A war had been started by my brother's disappearance which resulted in me only returning to America for Christmas and two weeks out of the summer holidays. At first, I missed home and my family but then when ever I returned I was only reminded with all the faults about them. My parents fighting, my grandparents strict time keeping for their daily schedule and my mother criticizing my weight.
I put on a new dress that was sitting in my closet I could see that my mother and aunts had been shopping for me I could always tell whose choices was whose. My Aunt Alice as the youngest of my grandparent's children. She loved fashion and liked bold colours, I could see a bright pink sleeveless cocktail dress, a sequined blue pantsuit and an orange all in one jumpsuit with flared legs. My mother went for dresses and blouses which were all too low cut and the two sizes too small. I noticed something more conservative. A khaki pleated skirt midi dress which showed no cleavage and covered my knees. The jersey fabric was comfortable and the look itself would be appropriate for a family dinner hosted by my grandparents. I rushed putting on a lip-gloss and nude eye shadow and was brushing my hair when a maid knocked on my door advising me dinner was ready. I grabbed a pair of black croc mid heeled shoes fiddling with the clasps and rushing down the stairs, I slowed my steps and composed myself before entering the dinning room.
"Ah gentlemen," my grandfather announced. "May I introduce my granddaughter, Renesmee." It wasn't just family at the table there were a group of people, another family perhaps that I did not recognise. I did, however, notice that my cousin wasn't at the dinner but then I wasn't entirely sure if she was going to be home from school or not. Leah was a year older than me, but she was held back a year at school. Her mother, my aunt Rosalie claims that after my brother went missing, she didn't want to put her in school. My uncle Emmett, Leah's father says its because she is stupid. A part of me would be relieved if Leah was still at school not returning for the holidays. She was rude, spiteful and got along with my mother. My mother would often say that even though I was prettier than Leah she did wish I had more of Leah's personality.
A tall man with black hair was sitting to my grandfathers right instead of my grandmother which meant he must be important. My grandmother was sitting at the opposite end of the table next to a blonde-haired woman who was similar age to my mother if not slightly older. My grandmother seemed to know her as they were smiling and conversing like old friends. I was escorted to sit next to my Uncle Jasper who was marred to my aunt Alice. My Uncle Jasper was originally from Denmark, but his family emigrated and worked in wall street. My uncle was a good business man, he owned hotels, restaurants, shopping malls and invested in development. My uncle Jasper was one of the kindest members of the family and it was clear he married into the family for my Aunt and nothing else.
"Renesmee may introduce you to Aro Volturi my new business associate and his wife Sulpicia," my grandfather nodded to the man at his right and to the blonde-haired women speaking to my grandmother. I gave a pleasant smile and politely said hello. "And across from you is their son Alexander." I looked straight in front of me to examine their son. He shared his father's brown hair and his mother's blue eyes. He was lean and wore a gey checked suit with white shirt, he had a scruff stubble beard which looked deliberate since his neck and checks had been shaved. He looked handsome with his chiselled facial features and well-toned body. Italian; my family were descendants from Ireland. Normally in my family's business the Irish and Italians were rivals.
"Nice to meet you," I let out a little bit too softly.
"Renesmee I hear you obtained A's in all you're A level exams," my Uncle Jasper began the conversation when the first course was served.
"Yes, Uncle Jasper," I replied.
"If only she spent as much time on her looks as she did study," my mother tutted. Isabella Cullen nee Swan was despite being in her early 40s a beautiful woman. She didn't have all the typical Irish features, she had dark brown hair, brown eyes, smooth pale skin but she didn't have the curves. My mother was proud to fit into a size 0.
"I think its refreshing that a young girl gets her education if only Janina had more interest in school. We paid for the best, but she lacks the discipline," Sulpicia sighed.
"Well Renesmee attended the best catholic school in England," Esme Cullen, my grandmother, gushed for 75 it was surprising how the women remained a red head and expected everyone to believe she hadn't died her hair.
"Yes, Ampleforth college is adjacent to the monastery there which meant Renesmee had the privilege of having Godly support throughout her tutelage," Carlisle beamed.
"That it explains why you don't have the accent of an American," Alexander piped up.
"My time in England encouraged me to drop the New York accent," I replied.
After the 5-course meal everyone descended to the den. I noticed how my grandfather, father and Uncle Emmet were all discussing business with Aro Volturi and another man who I had not been introduced. My mother, Grandmother, aunts and Sulpicia Volturi were all discussing a fashion show in New York and in Milan. Probably comparing the differences.
My Uncle Jasper joined me as I was sitting quietly.
"So, any words from the universities," he commented earning him a sceptical look. How could he possibly have known? "You forget I went to Harvard and still have many colleges there who are in charge of administrations and are deans of departments."
"I got accepted into all that I applied for, but it is merely a pipe dream," I whispered.
"Come on I know you got excepted to more than one University where are all the others?" He gushed.
"Oxford, Westminster University, Aberdeen, and Dundee," I rattled of the names of the main ones. "But Harvard or Oxford are the two I am most keen to go to."
"Those are some prestigious universities," a second voice interjected. My uncle looked up frowning as Alexander Volturi joined us sitting down in an upholstered chair. "What subject is it you are planning on studying?"
"Anthropology and Archaeology," I replied confidently.
"Study of bone and ancient artefacts," he chuckled. "Do you like your history?"
"I studied it as part of my A levels, but I prefer looking into ancient civilizations," I explained.
"Have you ever been to Rome? Greece? China? Mexico?"
"No, I've only travelled to England and America," I replied. Oh, if only I could see the temples worshipping the Gods in Greece, take in the architect that is Rome, walk along the Great Wall of China. Perhaps one day.
"What a shame you should travel more often," his voice was teasing.
"And where is it you are from Alexander?" I questioned him.
"Originally my family and I are from Italy, but I have travelled all over the world investing in property and Hotels," Alexander replied.
"The Volturi's line of work is similar to the family business," Jasper jumped in.
"Ah so you dabble in a bit of everything then," I teased knowing this is as far as talking about the family business should go.
I noticed that with Alexander having a conversation with me it caused my aunts to get giddy and hushed plans were being made. A waiter came around with chocolate covered strawberries and peppermint cremes to everyone. Alexander and Jasper both selected a peppermint crème whilst I picked up a chocolate covered strawberry by the stem.
"Renesmee put that down we can't have you getting fat for your wedding," my mother shrieked across the room causing me to choke on the food. My uncle patted my back whilst Alexander handed me a glass of water.
"Isabella," my father sternly shouted back silencing her.
"It is a bit premature Isabella," Sulpicia scoffed. "After all we don't even know if he likes her."
"I propose the two have lunch together tomorrow afternoon that way they can ascertain whether or not they are suited," Aro declared.
Eventually the evening died down and the Volturi's left. I was stunned, I didn't get the chance to approach my grandfather on the prospect of university. My future had already been decided.
I remained in my bedroom until it was into the early hours of the morning. I crept down the marble stairs heading to the back of the house where my father's office was located. I passed a guard who was discreetly standing to the side and pretending to ignore my presence. I knocked on the large oak door.
"Come in," I heard my father barked. I opened the door and snuck in. "Renesmee I'm surprised your up at this hour."
"I couldn't sleep," I murmured.
"Take a seat," he ordered me to sit in the leather chair facing his large desk as he shuffled some papers away. "Well done on your exams by the way."
"I wanted to talk to you about my exams," I responded. "I got accepted into Harvard and Oxford."
"In order to be accepted you must have applied if you had talked to me sooner I would have told you how there was no need," my father looked up from his paper work.
"But I thought me being at school was, so I could get an education which would lead to me going into a career," I began my argument.
"Career," my father snorted. "Tell me girl what kind of career you see yourself having?"
"I got accepted into anthropology and archaeology. I could either go into forensic anthropology or I could go into archaeology," I tried my best to maintain the confidence in my voice."
"Forensics are you that fucking stupid," my father shouted. "Half of our family have a criminal record and the other half are on the FBI watch list you won't be able to get near a criminal institution. As for archaeology." Another scoff. "Whether you like it or not you are apart of this family and being apart of this family means you can't be off galivanting to the middle of no wear. Our line of work is all about respect and it reflects on your actions."
"But marriage, I'm 18 years old," I could feel my eyes turning red as I held back the tears.
"The same age as your mother, your aunt, hell Uncle Emmett married your Aunt Rosalie when she was 17 years old. There is no excuse for you not to be married at your age.
"The truth is your value in our family is to secure alliances. Alexander has the best legit businesses which helps his family control Italy, they have already expanded into other countries, Britain being one of them. They are on good terms with the Russians and are moving in on Mexico territory. We help them we get a decent cut, but they need certainties that this allegiance will hold for generations and there is nothing more loyal than a wife."
"And what if he doesn't like me? The lunch is for him to establish whether he wants me or not. If he doesn't want me what will you do put me on auction to the highest bidder," I snapped. "Why isn't Leah being flung on the auction stand she's older."
"You don't get it do you I am giving you a chance of a better life here," my father stood up. "If Alexander Volturi doesn't cut it for you then you'll be marched down the aisle for Jacob Black."
"Jacob Nero," I stuttered. Jacob Nero was 40 years old man and another one of my grandfather associates. My father hated him that much I knew, and my distaste came about four years ago. I had returned for my annual two-week vacation over the Christmas break it was after New Year and I only had a couple of days before I was due to return to England and I was attending another family dinner with the Nero family. It was at that dinner party that I was at next to the man and I could feel his hand on my leg travelling further up. I responded by jolting up form the table and making some excuse that I was unwell.
It was after that, I heard stories mainly from the aunts how he murdered his first wife. How his sister in law got a scar from his brother Samuel for doing something wrong.
"He likes you very much and has approached your grandfather, "my father explained. "You have two choices the way I see it, be with a man who you know hardly about, he may or may not knock you about a bit but he is successful and is smart enough not to get caught which means you will never have to worry about being provided for. Or you can go with a man who is known for his temper so there is no doubt he will beat you, his family are known for being violent amongst each other which means you wouldn't be able to trust any of them and he's already been in jail, so chances are he will get caught again.
"Be smart here, it makes no difference what happens after your married. It's what benefits the family that matters and either a match with Volturi or Nero will be of benefit to this family. The truth is the whole point of your education was to bring you up a proper catholic wife to be appeasing to the other families, keep you out of trouble and out of sight. You became one less headache to worry over whether or not you got snatched like your brother."
I ended up heading to bed, defeated, my dreams dashed. I had to be up in six hours to get ready before I would have to get up the next day and convince Alexander Volturi to marry me.