All of the characters in this story belong to Stephanie Meyer, the author of the Twilight Saga.

TW: R pe, drug abuse.

BPOV

My brain was in a haze as I woke up, I must've been out for a while because it was now dark outside. I turned my body to turn off the lamp that was on the nightstand and instantly sat up when I saw someone in the room.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" I yelped, terrorized.

The man was Edward's height, with blonde hair, and ice-blue eyes. He was donning a suit, the same kind that Adonis wears.

"Hello there. I see you have a foul mouth, Isabella Marie Swan." What the hell? I sat up and scooted further back into the headboard of the giant bed.

I pull my knees to my chest, and wrap my arms around them, "Who are you?"

The man takes steps closer to the bed while reaching his hand out, "I'm Carlisle, Edward's father. You must be what everyone is so interested in, that they're forgetting their jobs."

Frozen in my place, I never reach my hand out to shake his- "It's ill-mannered to not shake a man's hand," he coldly said.

Abruptly, the door to the room opened, and a middle-aged woman with auburn hair and green eyes I recognized entered.

"Carlisle! CHE DIAVOLO STAI FACENDO!?" ("Carlisle! What the hell are you doing!?")

"Prediletto... questo non è appropriato. Questo problema deve essere affrontato!" The blonde man replies. ("Darling… this is not appropriate. This problem needs to be addressed!")

The woman walked up to him and poked him in the chest, leaving her finger lingering, "Cosa pensi che tuo padre pensasse di me!?" ("What do you think your father thought of me!?")

I figured both of them hadn't a clue I understood their conversation.

"Non discuteremo di questo Esme. Lo sono il capo di questa famiglia, e quello che dico va," Carlisle sternly said. ("We will not discuss this Esme. I am the head of this family, and what I say goes.")

The door was slammed open, and a furious-looking Edward appeared. Still wearing a three-piece navy suit without a tie, and his hair was in complete disarray.

"Padre." Anger stirred within that one word. ("Father.")

His Dad stepped towards him, reached his arm up high with his palm open, and forcefully slapped his son's face. Edward was thrown off balance, shuffling a few steps backward. He looked at me, and suddenly I saw in his eyes that he was wordless with rage.

Esme attempted to intervene, "Risolviamo la cosa come uomini adulti! Dai." Yet, even she backed away from them. ("Let's settle this like grown men! Come on.")

Edward raised his hand to touch where his father slapped his cheek, then he slyly smirked, before suddenly stepping towards his Father and drawing a knife. They were only a foot apart.

"You taught me how to be a leader in the Mafia, and you've made me the next El Capitan. Remember how when I was 16, I had to take a blood oath, because of our family's history?" Edward takes his knife, raises his left palm, and drags the blade throughout the entirety of the inside of his hand. "How is this for a blood oath, Father? This woman here, I'm going to protect her, and YOU WILL ALLOW IT." His hand was still held out, blood dripping down his muscular forearm.

Carlisle had been staring at his son coldly throughout the ordeal, now he looks back to his wife, who has a tear running down her sculpted face. He turns back to his son, takes the knife from his right hand, and imitates Edward's actions. I'm frigid, unmoving in the same spot I've been in. Carlisle's eyes moved to me, before looking back to his son and shaking his bloodied hand with his own.

"Ne vale la pena?" ("Is she worth it?")

Edward smiles, with his bloodied hand still wrapped around his Fathers,"Indubbiamente. A proposito, Isabella parla italiano." ("Undoubtedly. By the way, Isabella speaks Italian.")

Both Esme and Carlilse's heads spring towards me like bobbleheads. One pair of green eyes, and one pair of blue, gaping at me with wonder. The drugs are still in my system, right?

Adonis clears his throat, "Can I please have some alone time with Bella, now?"

With Carlisle looking at me disorientedly, Esme walks over to the bed with a gentle smile, "Sono così felice che tu sia qui, ragazza speciale." ("I'm so glad you're here, special girl.")

I had no time to reply, Esme and Carlisle both walked out of the room I'd been occupying. Edward looked at me, and stepped towards me, "I'm so sorry that he was in here, and that you had to witness… that."

I patted the spot on the bed next to me, "What the hell was that?"

He came onto the bed, sitting softly in the spot I slept in, putting his back against the headboard- "That was really weird for you, wasn't it?"

I began to laugh, a deep belly laugh, one I hadn't had since high school. Although it hurt, because I fractured four ribs, it was a deeply intimate moment for me. Edward began to laugh, and it sounded like a symphony, so delightful to my ears. We both laughed for a full minute, bringing ourselves close to tears. He reached his hand to mine, luckily, the one not covered in a dark red gooey substance. Our hands connecting was like fire, it burned so righteous as if the Gods planned for this moment.

The laughter died down, and he turned his head to the right, while my head went left- his eyes boring into mine. He lightly squeezed my hand, so I ran my fingers through his palm, keeping our hands entwined.

All too soon, I remembered he was bleeding, "You need a bandaid."

He chuckled while looking at his hand, then back to me, "I believe I need stitches, but I can go wash up."

"No!" I squealed, "I mean, can we just... Could we stay like this for a little while?"

Scooting his body closer to mine, he tapped his shoulder, showing he wanted me to rest my head there. His scent was so comforting to me, it won over the morphine. I put my head on his shoulder still with our hands stuck as one.

Edward's breathing was so relaxed, I began to time mine to him, "Isabella, cosa devo fare con te?" He asks, before pressing his lips onto the top of my head. ("Isabella, what am I going to do with you?")

"Resta e basta" I'm close to whimpering, before cuddling deeper into his shoulder and being taken over by sleep. ("Just stay.")

The club I'm in is thumping, the music blaring loudly through speakers, with bodies dancing throughout. The VIP section is off to the side, with a couch that Garrett and I are sitting on. This is our first "date", my way of paying back Phil's debt.

Excusing myself to use the restroom, I lightly peck his cheek and saunter toward the powder room. The restroom near the VIP section was a one-toilet room. I went to close the door after taking in my surroundings, but something blocked it from closing.

Garrett walked in, drunk as usual, and locked the door.

"I was going to use the facilities.." I say, looking dumbly at him.

He goes into his wallet and pulls out a little bag with white powder, "A little coke won't hurt you, precious Bella."

"Uh.. no I'm good, but thank you."

He puttered towards me and put his hand on my hip turning me towards the mirror. He poured some of the white substance onto the bathroom counter and pulled a little metal straw out of his coat pocket. Pulling his wallet out, he handed me a card, "Make a line for me darling."

Taking the card from his hand, I quickly pushed the powder around until it formed a line, it looked large to me. Garrett bent down with the straw to his nostril and inhaled through his nose. I had seen many people do cocaine throughout college, so it wasn't surprising, it just seemed like he was too drunk already.

"Now come here," he says, walking closer to me and pressing me into the wall. He leans in to kiss me, so I oblige, hoping he'll leave me to pee after this. His lips are cold, and he tries to stick his tongue through my own lips.

Moving my head to the side a bit, "I really have to pee Garrett."

He chuckles, and then pulls me over to the sink so my back facing the mirror, "They say orgasms are best when you have to pee." He reaches down and pulls my dress up so my underside is no longer covered, "Stop.." I say.

His mouth goes to my neck, he begins to suck hard, "Stop, please!" His fingers are now inching close to my underwear.

I take my hands and move him from my body, and he looks at me with distant eyes, "Don't you want your step Father to survive, dear Bella?"

Being a virgin still was pointless, I was going to be raped. My breathing sped as he turned me towards the mirror and unzipped his pants, then ripped my underwear off of my body. He spits in his hand and wipes his penis with it, before placing it at my entrance. Tears are rolling down my face, but I know I have to do this for my Mom. He grabs my hip with one hand and forces himself into me with the other. It fucking hurt, and I whimpered, so he pushed my face and upper body down into the sink.

"Stop, please" I whispered, "Please."

I feel a hand on my chest rubbing circles, "Isabella, svegliati, è solo un incubo." ("Isabella, wake up, it's just a nightmare.")

Jolting my body upwards, I cry out from the sudden pain- "Isabella, look at me."

It's Edward's voice, I turn my head to the left and begin to weep. "Shhh. It's okay, you're safe." He says, before stroking my hair lightly. The feeling of panic begins to fade, my breathing slows a little, and I look up to find the best pair of eyes staring at me with a concerned look.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes I have bad dreams."

He continues to stroke my hair, "Are you apologizing for having a nightmare?"

I sigh, wiping my tears off my face, "No... I'm apologizing because I'm a mess."

He takes his other hand, which I notice is now wrapped, and cups my cheek, "I don't think you're a mess. You've been through something traumatic, it takes work to come out of things like this, Isabella." His voice soothes and captivates me.

I move my head up towards him, "Uh.. can you help me with something?"

"Anything, mia ragazza." ("my girl.")

"I really need to wash up, I feel like I've been sleeping for weeks-"

I'm about to continue my ramblings before he responds, "Of course. Do you want me to get Alice?"

Panic rises in my throat, "No!"

"I'm sorry, no Alice. I can assist you."

I sigh in relief, "I'd like that."