Good Morning, Lovelies!

Thank you ever so much to Mel!

CHAPTER THREE

Bella

"Control your destiny or someone else will."

— Jack Welch

The kettle let out a sharp squeal, and I raced across my small flat to silence the noise. My nerves were so shot that though the cup of tea I was trying to make was supposed to be calming, the sound of the whistle was driving down my spine.

I yanked the kettle off the electric stand and hastily poured some water into my mug so that it wouldn't continue to scream. My hands were shaking though, and in my haste, boiling water spilled over onto the counter, splashing up onto my fingers. I swore heavily, setting the kettle down as I reached for a napkin. I mopped at the puddle, my fingers twice brushing the exterior of the kettle and burning my knuckles.

"Fuck!"

It was all a fucking mess. I would have given up completely and gone out to go get a cup of tea, but I was now hopelessly, dangerously broke.

It had been a week since Edward's insane proposal. I hadn't spoken to him again, even though I'd kept that stupid contract.

After Edward had dropped me off back at Peter's, I'd gone upstairs and sat in his living room, reading over every detail. The whole thing was insane on a level I couldn't even entertain.

I didn't bother mentioning it to Peter. I never told him about the Academy, and as far as I was concerned, it would be better if he never knew any of it.

The Sixteen were dangerous to associate with, and I'd been foolish to think that they would just magically leave me alone once I was gone.

Despite the absurdity of it all, I'd challenged myself to forget everything about my talk with Edward. It didn't matter, didn't concern me. I could live my life, he could live his, and we could both continue on without ever having to talk again.

Simple and easy.

But three days after our encounter, I got word that my financial aid for both my master's and later doctorate program had gone dry, and if I planned to continue, I'd have to find a way to pay for Oxford out of pocket. While certainly not ideal, it hadn't been enough to send me into a full panic yet. I'd stayed up for two days drafting possible scenarios that saw me working and going to school part time. It would take forever, and in the end probably cost me more, but it could be done.

Then I'd gotten the letter from immigration. My visa, which I'd been assured was still valid for another five years at least, was ending. I had no choice but to leave Oxford for an entire year before I was eligible to return.

My world was crumbling right before my very eyes, and I knew Edward was at the heart of it all. He wanted to show me the sort of power he had over my life, and that just pissed me off further.

Now, there was no way I was going to let that bastard win.

Peter had texted me a few times in the last week, but I'd ignored him. I was certain that somehow, Edward had gotten to him too, and the one good thing I had left would be gone.

I couldn't face Peter yet, fearing I'd learn the truth.

Across the room, my phone rang, and I burned my hand one more time on my teacup before I crossed and picked it up.

"What?" I snapped, striding back to the freezer to pull out some ice.

"Oh, Bella. That is horrible energy to be carrying around," Mom chastised.

I rolled my eyes as I wrapped a couple ice cubes in a paper towel and pressed them against my hand.

"What do you want, Mom?" I spoke to my mom often enough, though I hadn't seen her since I'd left for the Academy. I hadn't been able to bring myself to go home, fearing I'd somehow get stuck there if I dared to go back.

"Bella, honestly," Mom huffed. I was being rude, but the truth was I knew why she was calling.

Edward had overpaid me by a substantial amount. Enough certainly for me to send money back home to help my mom pay her rent. She and I had both been living off the remainder of the cash for years now.

"I don't have money," I told her, cutting past whatever small talk bullshit she had lined up. "I'm sorry. It's gone."

"What happened?" She didn't sound mad, which was at least something.

I hesitated before answering her. "There is a problem with my school funding," I said slowly, not wanting to tell her everything. "I'll get it sorted, but until I do, I don't have any extra cash."

Mom hummed. "Well, are you working?"

I shut my eyes, my teeth grinding together as I struggled to steady my breathing. "Mom, I can't fucking support you, okay?"

Guilt immediately lanced through me, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Bella, I'm a grown adult," Mom said, her voice going hard. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

I didn't answer her, feeling too bad about how I was treating her.

"I ask to make sure that you will be okay," Mom continued. "I know you are too proud to reach out for help. I'd never know if you needed it if I didn't ask."

I turned, leaning against the sink. She was right, of course, which made me feel somehow worse.

"I'll be fine," I said stiffly.

Mom sighed. "Your room is still here. Phil wanted to turn it into a man cave, but I wouldn't let him."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, Mom." I bit back the instinct to tell her to give Phil the go-ahead. I didn't need any sort of temptation to go back to Arizona.

Mom and I were both quiet for a moment before I pulled myself out of my thoughts. "How are you?"

I heard Mom sigh. "I'm fine, sweetheart." She was quiet for a moment. "I miss you."

The guilt landed deep in my stomach. I tossed the ice and towel into the sink, grabbed my mug, and made my way to my cheap sofa.

"I miss you too," I told her. It was true. Though I'd seemingly not looked back, I was surprised at how often I found myself missing my mom. "How are things with Phil?"

Mom sniffed. "Oh, the same," she said softly. "He did ask me to marry him."

I blinked and smiled. Mom had gotten countless marriage proposals while I was growing up. She fell in and out of love easily. She'd never accepted a proposal as far as I was aware.

"What did you say?" I asked, curious.

"Well, honey, with you gone, I realized just how lonely I've been."

I felt my eyebrows rise in surprise. "You said yes?"

If I was honest with myself, it wasn't that much of a surprise. She'd been with Phil longer than any other relationship I'd ever seen her in before. Phil was kind of a loser, but overall, he was a decent enough guy.

"Are you mad?"

I shook myself out of my thoughts. "Why would I be mad?"

"Well, it's always been just the two of us," she said, and I could practically see her shrugging. It had almost never been the two of us. Sure, we were usually the only two living in our apartment, but Mom had had a constant stream of admirers my entire life. We'd never been alone.

"No, Mom. I'm not mad. I think Phil is a great guy. He's lucky to have you."

"Oh, Bella." Mom sighed. "Honey, that really means a lot to me."

"Have you set a date?" I asked.

"Actually, we sort of already eloped. Went to Vegas last weekend."

I felt my mouth pop open in shock. "You got married last weekend and didn't tell me?"

"Oh, honey, don't be mad! We just were in one of those moods, you know? And besides, I figured there was no way you'd be able to make it out here for a wedding. The ticket cost alone! But I promise, baby, when you're in town next, we'll have a big celebration dinner, as a family. How about that, huh? How does that sound?"

I took a breath, trying to release my anger. Mom was right. I never would have been able to afford to fly out there just to see her get married, and it wasn't like my presence would have changed anything anyway.

I had moved on from that life with my mom, and likewise, Mom was moving on too.

"Yeah, Mom. That sounds good."

We chatted a few more minutes before hanging up. I stayed on my sofa, sipping my still too-hot tea.

Once again, my mind traveled to Edward's proposal. I'd read through the contract so many times, I felt like I knew it forward and backward.

It was the craziest, stupidest, most ludicrous proposal that had ever happened.

So why couldn't I just say no and be done with it?

The truth was, until now, I'd never even considered marriage. It wasn't something that was pressed upon with importance when I was growing up. My mom had never married, not even my dad after he knocked her up. It had just been something unimportant to our family.

I thought about my mom, who had finally said yes to a man when she no longer had me around to lean on. I didn't want to be her; I didn't want to need a man.

When I got married—if I got married—I wanted it to be about something more.

But what?

Sure, love was real, but I wasn't exactly searching for any. I liked Peter well enough, but I'd never come close to telling him I loved him. As far as I was concerned, there wasn't a whole lot of space for love in my life, and that would be just fine.

The contract was sitting on the other end of my sofa, under my coat from yesterday. I thumbed my cup a few moments before setting it on the coffee table and crawling across the sofa, yanking the thick envelope free.

The pages were wearing, evidence of how often I'd looked it over. The contract didn't go into it, but somehow I knew that even if I did want to sign it, there was no divorcing amongst the Sixteen. It would consume the rest of my life.

But was it too late for that anyway? The Sixteen knew where to find me. They clearly had my entire life in the palms of their hands. I wasn't anything more than a puppet to them, another string to pull.

But what if I could change that? I thought about Edward and the seemingly unlimited power he was offering me. What if I could be the conductor of my own fate?

A heady feeling washed over me as I considered the true taste of power that Edward was offering me. It was world-changing, something no one else on the planet could grant me, and he only could give it to one person.

I'd be insane to walk away from that.

I reached across the sofa once again, digging in my coat for a pen. When I finally came up with one, I propped the contract on my knees and got to work, writing up revisions.

…

It was after midnight when I finally called Edward.

He was awake; there was no doubt about it. The man seemed to never fucking sleep.

"Hey," he said, sounding surprised.

"Can you talk?" I asked.

There was a small rustling sound as I heard Edward murmur something to someone away from the phone. "Hold on. I'm going into the basement."

"Where are you?"

"Savile Row."

I frowned. "Where the hell is that?"

"London." He chuckled softly. I could practically picture his smile.

So he was still close. "I looked over your contract," I said slowly, still unsure I wanted to initiate this conversation. When Edward was quiet, I huffed. "I want to negotiate."

"Negotiate?" he asked, sounding amused.

I grunted. "Yes. There are some terms that don't suit me."

He hummed softly. "I'll admit, that is a relief. I don't trust anyone who doesn't negotiate."

I rolled my eyes. "I've drafted a few revisions," I told him. "I assume you don't want me to post it."

"I'll pick it up," he said, interrupting me. "I'll be there in an hour."

I let out a tense breath. "Okay," I said slowly. "I'm at home."

"I know."

I scowled, tempted to tell him to go to hell instead.

"I'll see you in an hour. Be ready."

With that, he hung up and I huffed, annoyed. I couldn't do it. I couldn't marry him. He was such an ass.

Despite my better judgment, I got up to get changed.

I didn't know what to wear. Last time, I'd been in pajamas. I considered a dress, but what would be the point in that? I didn't want to be getting fancied up for him.

Instead, I grabbed a white silk blouse I'd bought for interviews. I pulled on my nicest pants—straight legged navy trousers—and dug my only pair of heels out of the back of my closet. It wasn't nearly as high end of an outfit as I was pretending it was, but it would have to do. Once I was dressed, I ran a brush through my hair, tempted to try to style it but knowing better than to fuck around with it. I'd never be out of here in an hour if I tried.

I grabbed my only lipstick, swiping it quickly over my lips before grabbing my coat off the sofa. By the time I was finally ready, I had twenty minutes left.

I sat on my sofa and tried not to hyperventilate. Just because I was agreeing to discuss things with him didn't mean I was committing to marriage.

I could still walk away.

I heard a car down the street, and I knew instinctively it was Edward. I shut my lights off, grabbed my keys, and left my flat, locking up behind me.

Edward's shiny car pulled up just as I exited the front door. I strode as confidently as I could to his passenger door and yanked it open.

He didn't say anything as I settled, and the moment the door was shut, he was off again.

"Phone," he grunted.

"I left it in my apartment."

He nodded. "Good. That's even better."

I tried to look him over, but the interior of the car was too dark. Still, he appeared to be dressed in a sharp suit.

"Why are you so dressed up?" I asked, wary.

He glanced at me. "I was picking up this suit when you called," he explained.

"At midnight?" I asked dryly.

He chuckled. "They keep the shop open for my family. They work on our schedule."

I frowned, enticed and annoyed by this small display of power.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Somewhere we can talk in peace," he said, glancing at me. "I think we have a lot to go over."

I let out a soft breath. "Yeah," I agreed quietly. "We do."