A/N: Just want to let you guys know that Princess and Freddie keep disappearing from my story list but links still work. I'm not sure what's going on, but I will try to keep updating!

Chapter 2

~Masquerade~

A bang jolted me out of my sleep. Raised voices floated up from downstairs. My father was home, and he was yelling loud enough to cause skid marks in the shorts of most men. I rolled my eyes, hoping Hurricane Aro didn't turn my way.

"Where the fuck is she, Renee? Does she ever get up before noon?"

So much for that vain hope.

My bedroom door flew open. Aro marched in, his face a mottled red from all the bellowing, and ripped the comforter off my bed.

"Isabella!" When he saw the skimpy outfit I was sleeping in, he tossed a robe at me and bellowed again. "Isabella! For fuck's sake, what are you wearing?"

I pulled the silky robe up to my chin and offered my best innocent look. "Daddy, you're going to have a stroke."

Aro glared at me. The black-olive hue of his eyes frightened most people, and sometimes I was afraid of him too. He did have a soft spot for me—at least as much as he had for anyone. I thought it was guilt for the way he'd ripped me away from the only life I knew, right after the man I'd thought was my father had died.

Aro huffed and looked away. He sat on the side of my bed, and his voice softened. "Isabella Marie, you push me to my limits." He patted my hand, then swiped a large palm over his face. "Listen, I know you don't understand this life. Maybe I made a mistake allowing you to be raised on the outside. Angela gets it. She's marrying Lou, like a good girl."

"Dad, why are you in my bedroom talking to me about this?" I rolled my eyes internally because Aro wasn't beyond backhanding me if I disrespected him and because he was acting weird—a mix of wanting to grab me by the back of my neck and tell me how it was versus an attempt to win me over to his point of view. Something was going on for sure.

"Izzie Marie . . ."

Uh oh. He used his pet name for me, never a good sign.

"Listen, the party tonight is critical to the family. There are some important people I want you to meet."

"Me?" My voice squeaked.

"The heads of most of the families will be there and some of their sons. Unmarried sons." He leveled me with a look that conveyed what he wasn't saying.

He wanted to marry me off.

I shook my head. "Dad . . ."

"Don't get upset. Nothing is set in stone."

"Wait, what?" My eyes widened. Saying nothing was set in stone meant it was partially set in something! Panic welled up in my chest, and my heart started pounding.

"Daddy . . ." I whined, but his jaw was set.

"I want you to meet some people, and I expect you to act in accordance with who you are. Be a proper lady, and help me entertain these very important people. Capisci?" His eyes hardened. He wasn't asking.

I knew when to push Aro and when to give in. "Yes, Daddy. Tell me what you expect me to do."

Aro waved his hand in the air. "Have Angela coach you. She knows how this works."

I swallowed hard. "S-sure."

"That's my girl!" He nodded, much happier. "It's a masquerade party. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to have masked people at a mob gathering is beyond me, but whatever." Aro leaned in and kissed my forehead, then got up and left.

For some crazy reason the kiss of death went through my head. I laughed alone in my room, a hysterical edge to the sound. One of these days, I wouldn't be able to put Aro off. There was a division between the families, and marrying into another family solidified the ties, creating a stronger alliance.

Angela showed up ten minutes later, almost as if it were pre-planned. As usual, she strode into my room without knocking, as if she owned the place. "Hey, Chica!"

I pouted, crossing my arms.

Angela stood next to my bed, hands on hips. "Come on, girl! We are going to a masquerade party. We get to look delish and mysterious." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Then why do I feel like I'm going to the gallows?"

oOo

Aro's sleak, black limo pulled up in front of Narnia's, a multi-level venue that hosted elite events and wasn't owned by any of the families. The food and service were superb, and top-notch security was provided. My father brought some of his own people, of course, and the other families would as well, but this was considered neutral territory.

Felix opened the door, offering a hand to assist me and then Angela from the car. "Ladies, enjoy the evening."

"Thanks, Felix."

Felix was my father's oldest, most trusted friend. He was gargantuan, with wide shoulders and solid muscle, which made him perfect for his role as bodyguard. Aro didn't go anywhere without him. Felix wasn't a man of many words. Some people mistakenly took this to mean he was dumb, but I knew better. Felix had intelligent eyes. He was much more than a human shield for Aro; he was also a friend and advisor. This wasn't well known outside of our family as it would be considered an exploitable weakness.

Narnia security vetted everyone upon arrival, going so far as to pass a metal detector wand over each guest. Guns, knives, and weapons of any kind were prohibited.

Aro had a small arsenal stored in a compartment in the floor of the limo. He wanted to be ready at all times.

I stood shivering next to Angela in the cool night air as a security guard scanned us and asked for our invitations. Aro climbed from the limo and glared at the guy. "Aro Volturi. What more do you need in the way of an invitation?"

The guard was a big man, well armed, and wore an earpiece. He repeated the name, listened for a moment, then nodded. "My apologies, Mr. Volturi—I'm new here. You're all set."

Aro grumbled something under his breath, then offered a hand to assist Renee out of the limo. My father cut an imposing figure in a perfectly tailored black tux. Renee was dressed in a royal blue and silver gown, her hair and makeup done to perfection. My mother was the perfect mafia wife. Her mothering skills, on the other hand, left much to be desired.

Angela's dress was a deep plum with a plunging neckline. The flowing material skimmed over her curves, the skirt puddling around her feet. Her mask was an ornate plum and gold.

Renee had picked my outfit, maybe because she knew I would never choose to showcase my body. I had to admit, the deep scarlet dress hugged me in all the right places, and the halter-style gown showed off my cleavage without leaving the girls hanging out. Gold and pearl beading formed an intricate pattern on the bodice, and my mask echoed the design perfectly. The pièce de résistance was the back of the dress, which left me bare all the way down to the V that ended just above my ass. My skirt flowed to the floor, similar to Angela's, but had a slit down the front right side from mid-thigh to ankle. At least my shoes would peek out every so often. I've always wondered why so much was spent on a pair of shoes that would be hidden most of the time.

Once we were through security, we donned our masks and entered the vestibule. Lou D'Angelo hovered inside, his fingers fiddling nervously with the mask he was holding. He was tall and solid, the kind of man who deterred unwelcome attention. He was handsome with dark eyes and gelled black hair that suited him but probably took a long time to sculpt. When he saw Angela, he came over to us.

"Hey, Bella." He leaned in to kiss Angela. "Hey, baby." She turned her face so his lips landed on her cheek. Behind the mask, her eyes were blazing.

Angela smiled sweetly. Not a good sign.

Lou didn't seem to get the message and tried again. "Hey, can I get a proper kiss from my woman?"

Angela put a hand between them, so his kiss landed in her palm. "You want to kiss me with that mouth? Fuck. No. I heard Lauren has crabs."

"Who's Lauren?" Lou's voice rose half an octave.

Angela laughed—the laugh she does when she's about to string someone up. "Bella, he's asking who Lauren is. Isn't that cute?" She raised her hand to pat his cheek. From a distance, it looked like a gesture of affection, but I was close enough to hear the stinging slap. All the while, her smile never faltered as she leaned in closer. "Listen to me carefully. If I know who you're boning, then so do others. You will not be welcome in my bed while you are making a fool of me and sticking your dick in any available open hole. Got it?"

Lou swallowed hard, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "Yeah, got it."

Angela raised her voice so she could be overheard. "See you at dinner, honey! We're going to dance."

Have I mentioned Angela's my fucking hero?

The Capital Room was bedecked with elegant tables surrounding the dance floor. The low lighting was a mix of mysterious blues and purples that glinted off the beading on the masks and gowns.

We located our table and left our handbags there before heading for the dance floor, which was filling up quickly. The DJ played a great mix of songs, and the mood was lively. Angela and I danced together but kept it PG because we weren't in a dance club, and our actions reflected on our fathers.

When the song we were dancing to faded out, the DJ stepped up to the mike. "Can I have your attention please, ladies and gentleman? Narnia welcomes you to the Masquerade Mingle. Please return to your designated tables for dinner. Afterward, you are encouraged to mingle and get to know others. As always, Narnia's offers a safe space for networking. I'm DJ Magix, keeping it real."

Angela and I grabbed our handbags and headed for the ladies room. Wearing a mask while dancing was hot business. I pulled off the mask and fixed my makeup, spritzing on a generous layer of setting spray. I fanned my face until my skin was dry, then put the mask back in place.

"Can I borrow that spray, Chica?" Angela held her hand out, knowing I'd share with her.

My father and Uncle Marcus seemed pleased when we got back to the table. Aro had his hand on Renee's thigh, massaging absently, but he turned his face away and abruptly entered into a deep conversation with Uncle Marcus. Something felt off about my father. Outwardly, he seemed to be having a good time, but there was a tension to his large frame that only one who knew him well would notice. Uncle Marcus had a wary look deep in his eyes and glanced around often.

I leaned in to Angela and whispered, "What's up with them?"

She shrugged. "Who the fuck knows? It's always something. I've given up worrying about all the drama."

The elegant form of Angela's mother came into view. Sophia Moretti was encased in a formfitting cream gown with gold beading. Her mask was cream and gold with a spray of feathers on one side. Her full, sensual lips curved into a smile as she greeted everyone she passed. Her bearing was regal; she was probably royalty in another life. Before taking her seat, she leaned down between me and Angela, kissing our cheeks in turn.

"How are my favorite girls?" Sophia's voice was husky, with a slight Italian accent.

Every eye was on her as she leaned in to Marcus, interrupting his conversation with Aro, and guided his mouth to hers. She kissed him deeply, her gloved hand snaking around to caress the back of his neck.

Marcus was a good looking man. He was soft-spoken but high enough in my father's organization that everyone knew not to fuck with him. Sometimes those who seemed softest dealt the hardest blows.

Even with her mask on, I could see the glint of envy in Renee's eyes as she watched Sophia and Marcus.

Rumor had it Aro had fancied Sophia back in the day, a fact that never failed to rile up Renee whenever it was mentioned. Once, I heard my parents arguing in their bedroom. Renee kept accusing Aro of wanting Sophia, suggesting there might have been an affair.

He'd stopped her cold. "Enough of this nonsense! If Sophia would've had me, I'd be married to her. But so help me, I don't do disloyalty, Renee. Remember that." There was a sharp warning in my father's words.

Whereas Marcus's power was subtle, Aro was enveloped in his. One had only to look into his eyes or sense the violence vibrating around him to know it was a bad idea to fuck with him. There were rarely second chances with Aro; you were either loyal or you weren't.

Felix and Paulie sat on the other side of my mother. Their eyes were always watchful. I could tell how uncomfortable Felix was without his weapon. His hand kept straying to his side, fingers questing for the holster that usually rested there. Paulie caught my eye and winked at me from across the table. He was getting old, not able to be as physical, but his mind was sharp, and Aro respected his opinions. I smiled back and blew him a kiss. Paulie was my favorite.

After dinner, DJ Magix came back to the mike. "Hey, everyone! Hope you're enjoying the night. It's tiiiiime to mingle! Please enjoy the lighter side of magic."

Slow dance music played, and the floor filled up with masked couples. Lou presented Angela a convincing set of puppy dog eyes, and she reluctantly placed her gloved hand in his. "This doesn't mean you're forgiven, buddy!"

Aro smiled, watching the festivities. I saw him nod to someone, then look at me. "Isabella Marie, I'd like to introduce you to someone." He leaned closer, a glittering warning in his dark eyes. "Don't embarrass me. Be nice, maybe a dance."

I swallowed hard. "Okay, Dad." I knew this day was coming and couldn't put it off forever.

Aro stood up. "Art, good to see you! And is this Santiago?"

A tall, thin man with silver hair and a benign-appearing maskless face shook hands with Aro. "The pleasure is mine, my friend." He gestured to one side, indicating the man standing beside him. "My son, this is the Aro Volturi."

Arthur's son was about the same height as him, but that's where the resemblance ended. Santiago had broad shoulders, muscular arms, and jet black hair. Most of his face was covered by a mask, but I could see he had a square jaw and a nice smile.

Santiago leaned in to shake Aro's hand. "Sir, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"You as well. This lovely lady is my daughter, Isabella Marie."

Arthur and Santiago turned their attention to me. I blushed, stammering out a greeting.

Santiago was closer to me, and he took my hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. "Lovely doesn't do you justice, Isabella Marie. Would you like to dance?"

I smiled. "I'd love to." I wanted to get away from the table, and he seemed nice enough.

He took my hand and placed it on top of his arm, leading me toward the crowded dance floor. "Isabella Marie is a mouthful. Is that what you prefer to be called?"

I laughed. "No, I prefer Bella."

"Much more suited to such a beautiful lady. And please call me Santo."

"Thank you for the compliment, Santo."

"I speak only the truth."

We found a pocket of space, and Santo pulled me close but not embarrassingly so. He led me expertly, and our dance felt effortless.

He bent his head toward mine. "You know our families have plans?"

I nodded. "I'm getting that idea."

"Do you have anyone in your life?"

"No. You?"

Santo sighed. "I did, but it could never be. Sometimes life is like that."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's part of this life." Santo tightened his arm around my waist, spinning us and lowering me into a dip. His dark eyes glittered behind his mask as his generous mouth hovered close to mine. "You're very beautiful, Bella. I think we might make a great match."

My heart sped up. "Oh . . . I . . ."

Santo brought me back up, touching his large palm to my cheek. "You look so frightened! You don't need to decide here and now. Let me take you out. We need to get to know each other."

I let out a relieved laugh. "I'd like that."

He held me close, and I placed my cheek against his chest. He seemed like a nice guy. I could tell even with the mask, he was quite handsome, and I felt safe in his arms.

We were on our second dance when the DJ cut in. "Okay, everyone, it's time to mingle! Switch dance partners."

We ignored the DJ and danced to a few more songs until the DJ stopped again. "And mingle!"

Santo was about to continue our dance, but another masked man stood beside us, offering his hand.

Santo smiled and kissed me on the cheek. "It's been a pleasure. I'll call you."

I smiled shyly. "I look forward to it."

Nervously, I took the offered hand. My new partner was very tall with broad shoulders, but he was leaner than Santo. His perfectly tailored tux fit him like a glove.

He led me to a clearer spot toward the back of the dance floor and tugged me close, wrapping both arms around me. I rested my hands on his shoulders and tilted my head up to get a look at him: strong jaw, sensual lips, and brownish, slicked-back hair.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi."

He led the dance silently, but his attention was on me the entire time. My heart was beating faster, adrenaline edging into my bloodstream. There was no reason to be nervous—this wasn't the match my father wanted to encourage. I thought the adrenaline might be a delayed reaction to Santo and the mention of what our families had planned.

Another song started, a sensual Sade tune. My partner didn't keep his distance like Santo had but pulled me closer to his sculpted body as we swayed to the music. My breaths were shallow, my heart racing.

He put a finger under my chin to lift my face and lowered his head, placing his lips against my ear. "Are you okay, princess?"

My breath caught in my throat. That voice. That nickname. I looked up at him, straining to see his eyes behind the mask. Green.