TW: Violence, death.


Dame Fortuna

Chapter 5: Tanya


She wasn't a good person. She never had been, and she'd never once claimed she was.

Honestly, Tanya had been handed the short end of the stick since she'd been born. Dirt-poor, accidental only daughter, mother who died in childbirth, and of course, her dear doting father––it was practically a blueprint of lives stuffed in the Will Not Make It cabinet.

She supposed God took pity on her once she turned thirteen, though, and decided to make her pretty at least. Since then, she'd run away and had been on the streets. It was ironic how easy it was to promise love––at least for one night at time––without ever understanding what it actually meant. How it felt. Soon after that, most of her sense of remorse also flew out the window.

It was as she said. She wasn't a good person.

It was meant to be, then, that she was already practically whole as the Tanya she was today when she crossed paths with him back then. A decade ago, in Jacksonville. She had just turned nineteen.

Her first thought––when she got a good look at him for the first time in the backseat of that BMW––was that he didn't look real. It wasn't possible for a man to have such a perfect, angelic face. He could have anyone he wanted and he wouldn't have to spend a dime, she was sure.

That is, until he spoke. "How much extra for the backdoor?" he'd asked sweetly with his signature, tranquil smile.

He'd surprised her a couple times more during that single night.

The next one was the job offer. It wasn't very difficult to say yes, after he'd so casually pulled out his checkbook from the glove box and wrote her a handsome check to secure the next three months.

He didn't let her go back home after that, either. No, she'd never stepped foot in her rundown co-living apartment after that day. Instead, he'd driven them a few miles until they reached the driveway of a cozy house in the suburbs.

There was a boy waiting there, a little younger but close to Tanya's own age, leaning against the stone fence while smoking a cigarette.

He didn't even seem the least bit surprised to see her at the time, an absolute stranger dressed provocatively in a tube top and miniskirt in the passenger seat. He'd settled in the back without so much as another a word.

"How was your study group?" Carlisle had asked conversationally as they began to drive again.

"Fine." The boy's voice was passive. "You're late."

"I was sidetracked. Besides, we're getting your graduation gift tomorrow. You'll be able to drive yourself soon." The blond had nodded his head in Tanya's direction. "What do you think, Edward?"

The younger one––Edward––revealed an emotion in her presence for the first time after hearing that. He'd quirked up his nose in mild disgust. "You know I don't care."

"You'll have to eventually."

"Then I defer to your judgment for now."

Carlisle had chuckled softly at that, and the rest of the drive was relatively silent afterwards.

That was how she'd first become entangled in the unconventional––to say the least––dynamic of the Cullen family, and slowly rose the ladder of the Bluewave group.

Carlisle must've seen something in her back then because he'd taken great lengths to make her comfortable since the first day. He'd set her up with a luxury apartment and purchased her first car, among other things. And she knew he enjoyed fucking her the most.

She was his favorite.

She supposed that was why she continuously sought his approval, albeit unintentionally. And she'd stayed steadfastly by his side, through the years, through thick and thin, and even after the…incident. After all, he'd accepted and taken her for who she was back then. Who was she not to return the favor?

She remained on his side even when he'd willingly stepped down as the head of the underground group he'd built, graciously handing over the reins to his more standoffish son. Handing her over, letting him take her further east.

"Keep an eye on him for me," he'd told her back then, and she'd followed through flawlessly.

She'd wholeheartedly accepted her affection, devotion for the man––the closest thing to love she could ever feel in this life––was fully one-sided, until Victor happened. Until she received that text.

V down. Sleep easy


Edward was waiting for her in the dressing room when she arrived early that morning for her shift. That was strange. Tanya had never seen him step foot inside––no man was supposed to, as stipulated in the club's rules.

But there he was, sitting casually on one of the vanity tables, arms crossed and looking at her with a strange, blank expression.

"Good morning," she decided to greet casually, shrugging off her jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. "You never usually come by this early."

"Tanya. I know."

She was facing the vanity mirror opposite him at this point, and she froze. Without facing him, she tried, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Tanya's breath hitched when she felt him come up behind her and heard his steady breaths on top of her head. She jumped when he threw his cellphone down in front of her on the table.

She swallowed as she read the obituary column on the screen. She was so…fucked.

"Why?" His voice was dangerously low.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tanya said again, maintaining a detached tone. "It says it's liver damage. The man drinks every night."

She jumped and squealed again when he threw his fist down on the table again. "Last chance."

Tanya sucked in a deep breath, struggling to keep her hands from trembling as she turned around to face him. "You wouldn't have done anything. You never had the balls. He deserved it––I would know."

"You know that's not all there is." There was a glinting storm in his green eyes. "I put your mysterious client Matias together. Only one person served to benefit from this. And only one is ambitious and cold-blooded enough to do something so rash. And you didn't think to warn me about his plan."

Tanya gulped but maintained eye contact. "I told him to do it."

Edward suddenly laughed, and the sound was haunting. "Are you still on that delusion that he gives a fuck about you? After all this time?"

She crossed her arms then, but said nothing.

"God…" Edward's tone was almost heartbroken, pacing around the room with his hands behind his head. "I can't believe it. After everything I've done for you. After I staged the coup to help you. You know this."

Of course she knew it. Tanya released a shuddered breath as her heart sank in her chest. "I'm––He only wanted to keep an eye on you. That's all."

"I don't care about that!" Edward roared, lunging forward to her place by the table. "Because how the fuck does Victor's death benefit Bluewave at all? Our sponsors found out so easily and they're spooked. This is Jacksonville all over again."

"He did what he did back then for Bluewave. For us."

"Five." Edward's chest was heaving with rage. "Five important people died that night, all because he lost his temper. He broke the very rules he built for this place on a whim. They have a right to be scared. And so should you."

He stepped forward slowly, a twisted, bitter smile suddenly forming on his lips. He leaned down until his eyes met hers.

"Because have you forgotten what he made you do afterwards?"


Three Years Ago

Tanya had just arrived early that morning for her shift that Wednesday. As she usually did during her opening routine, she decided to check on the private rooms to ensure they were in good shape. She had gotten to all of them except for the conference room at the end of the hall.

She knew something was wrong once she got closer and saw an ominous puddle of red seeping through the gap underneath the door.

Slowly, and with sharp, shuddering bursts of breath, she opened the door fully. Her knees nearly gave in as she took in the scene.

Five motionless, important-looking figures were spread out in the large space. A couple of men were still in their chairs; she supposed these were the first to go. The shots were dead-center on their foreheads. The other three––two men, one woman––were on the floor, entangled together in front of where she stood. They weren't able to make it out the door.

And he was there, at the center of it all, sitting at the head of the table. The silenced revolver was on the surface in front of him. She watched as he merely sat there, a marble statue, with a finger pressed against his temple.

His eyes were closed initially, but they fluttered open when Tanya's breaths turned loud and unsteady.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted with his usual angelic smile. "I made a mess. A big one this time."

She visibly trembled before him. "What…happened?"

Carlisle slowly stood up from his seat and ran a hand through his hair. "They've been causing too many problems." Pointing to the couple still in their seats, he said, "Their men threatened to tattle on detectives." Then to the those on the floor, "Debt exceeded twenty mill."

Tanya swallowed, looking down on the lump of bodies across from her. She pointed to the woman in the red dress. "And her?"

He didn't respond for a while. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and slowly walked around the table until he, too, stood before the bodies.

His eyes eventually met hers. They were strangely pensive. "She was a plus one," he finally admitted.

Tanya had to hold on to the sides of her thighs tightly to keep her legs from giving in. "I––Okay."

Carlisle continued to study her face for several long seconds, narrowing his eyes as he gauged and scrutinized her reaction to the scene. As if it was a test.

"Where's Edward?" she asked, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

"I sent him off," he said. "He'll fix it, as he always does. But…I'll have to admit I went over the line this time. I broke my own rules of parley and made too many unnecessary enemies. There will be consequences."

Perhaps she wasn't able to truly, fully process the scene yet, but Tanya's chest twisted as his usually blank mask shattered for a moment, and his cherubic features contorted to that of pain and exhaustion. Without thinking, she stepped closer to him and placed her hands on his upper arms, rubbing soothingly.

"It'll be fine," she said softly. "It always turns out fine."

His eyes were softer and more vulnerable than she'd ever seen it. "Tanya."

She ceased her movement on his arms, looking up at him expectantly. "Yes?"

He hesitated for a few moments, his brows twitching and his mouth slightly open as he tried to figure out what to say. "Would you help me clean this up if I asked you to? Before we open tonight?"

Tanya's jaw instantly clenched. Her eyes darted towards the bodies on the floor and the dead orbs that stared back at her. Her gaze wandered to the blood in the carpet that had now also seeped into the bottom lining of her shoes.

Then she looked up at him again. His expression was still soft.

"Of course," she breathed.

And that's how she ended up spending her morning, foregoing her usual routine. The pair was generally silent throughout the affair. Carlisle handled most of the carrying, arranging the five bodies into a neat pile on a tarpaulin in a separate room. Tanya had brought up the cleaning materials from the storage room and gathered up the broken glass and wall debris.

He had finished his self-assigned tasks earlier, and was eventually seated on the edge of the table with crossed arms, quietly watching Tanya scrub off the remaining traces of blood on the carpet with a brush.

Her mind was blank as she was completely focused on cleaning that she jumped at the feeling of familiar hands on her waist. She turned rigid as she felt his fingers trace further down her skirt, slipping underneath the folds and lightly grazing on the sensitive skin there.

"Would you let me do this, too?" he asked softly from behind her.

His hold on her was too strong. She didn't hesitate this time.

She eventually found herself fully bare and propped at the edge of the table, holding on tightly to the bloodied folds of his shirt to keep her balance. He held her legs open so wide that it almost hurt, as he thrusted himself heavily and erratically inside her over and over again.

His gaze on her with his forehead pressed against hers was different this time. There was the usual unhindered lust, yes, but he also looked at her with minor bewilderment. As if he was seeing her for the first time.

Tanya was moaning loudly and already teetering over the edge of her own depraved climax when she finally caught a glimpse of the figure standing outside the open door.

She had no idea how long he'd been standing there. For some reason, she also couldn't find the decency in her to say something, to tell Carlisle to stop. No, she held on, and let herself be watched.

Edward didn't look surprised. Or disappointed, even. His brows were slightly raised, his sage green eyes glassy, and his lips were contorted and quivering. Tanya knew that look by heart, as she'd seen it a thousand times before in her youth. Back when she had nothing, was nothing.

He pitied her.


Present

It was still fifteen minutes until five p.m., but she was early this time.

Carlisle braced himself as walked on over to her, tucking his hands into his black coat pockets before sitting down next to her on the park bench. He didn't have to ask. The situation was clear on her sullen face.

They sat there in silence for a while, listening to nothing but the sounds of birds and the children playing in the field nearby.

After several minutes, Tanya opened with: "He wants me to tell you he knows I'm here. In case you try anything."

Carlisle nodded slowly, staring blankly ahead of him. "Did he sack you?"

"No."

"Hmm. Move you?"

She shook her head.

"Good," Carlisle decided.

"I'm surprised he's keeping me after I practically betrayed him. I'm not his advisor anymore, but he didn't punish me." Tanya turned to face him with narrowed eyes. "But that's probably because he thought that's what you'd want him to do, so you can to take me away from his 'protection'. The main reason he started that damn coup in the first place."

He chose to be silent, still not looking at her.

"He's wrong, obviously." Tanya sighed, leaning back onto the bench and looking up at the darkening sky. "He never understood me. And you never really cared. I was just a means to an end. Now you have everything you want and have no need for me anymore."

Carlisle sucked in a deep breath, releasing it in a wheeze. "I didn't have to kill him."

She turned to face him again warily. "What do you mean?"

"I could've gotten everything I wanted from Victor without killing him," he explained, his expression turning thoughtful. "I wasn't planning to, really. Just had to ship him somewhere uncomfortable and secure. It would've been easier. Bluewave would still be clueless about my game if I did that."

"So you lost your temper again," Tanya chuckled humorlessly. "It's your fatal flaw."

"No."

She tilted her head.

Finally, he turned to face her, and despite everything that had happened, her heart twisted at the sight of his gentle smile. "I killed him because you told me to."

What?

"I hope I'm not indebted to you anymore, sweetheart," he sighed, wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders. "After what I've put you through. Since Jacksonville."

Tanya shut her eyes then, feeling the corners already moistening. She thought she'd never hear the words. This…was enough.

She sighed too, and leaned her head against his shoulder. "For what it's worth, he didn't put everything together."

"What do you mean?"

"I held back on your interest in Dame Fortuna," Tanya said. "He seemed to easily believe me when I painted the picture that all you wanted was Victor's supply."

Carlisle chuckled softly, rubbing his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. "Let's give it a rest for now, sweetheart. I'm sure he's already shaken up as it is."