TW: Violence, SA. It's going to be a little rough.

Dame Fortuna

Chapter 21: Hell

Edward had already stopped crying. It had taken him more than twenty-four hours to do so. He'd kicked away all the trays of food and glasses of water the guards had offered him. Instead, the man chose to stay hungry and thirsty while imprisoned in his own bed, his wrist already red and bleeding from struggling against the cuffs.

Carlisle had left the house soon after explaining the whole situation to him. The whole…sadistic plan. Atticus was right. Only Carlisle Cullen had the claws to do something so fucking sick to get what he wanted. God, he'd been so…stupid.

Almost a full day later, Edward heard the door open and close from downstairs, signaling his father's arrival. And another few minutes for the man to stand outside the bedroom door, gazing solemnly at the broken plates and glasses on the carpet.

"Do I have to cuff you with both hands and force-feed you?"

"I'll bite off your fucking fingers if you try." Edward's voice was hoarse from screaming and crying.

Carlisle tiptoed around the bits of food and shattered kitchenware and pulled out the seat against the desk. He sat down unceremoniously and closed his eyes tightly. "I told you. I'm sorry."

"You turned her against me," he whimpered.

"You know I did no such thing."

"You put the idea in her head," Edward insisted, his chest heavy again. "All these months of training and setting her up with your legal team––You made her believe it was all up to her. That she had no choice. I fucking trusted you, Carlisle. I really thought you'd never put her in harm's way where she can't fend for herself."

Carlisle remained silent for a while. "I didn't want to. You know I––care about her, too. But as I finally admitted to you…Only one thing prevails to me. Above everything else."

"Fuck you," Edward swore. "This isn't love, Carlisle. None of this is for me. If I really was your priority––if you actually genuinely cared about me––that should've extended to Bella too. Because you know she means everything to me."

"Even with Atticus, we'll never have the numbers to take Wynona on out west," Carlisle reminded him. "Believe me, I tried to look for any other way. But pulling Laurent's a weak play. It wouldn't have taken long for her to retaliate from our massacring her stakes in the east. And she definitely would've won and killed us both. Killed you. I had to do something different, for her to be caught off-guard and take the bait. She wouldn't have been able to resist the temptation to use Bella against us."

I sent her off to suffer for us. Instead of us.

"And now you've doomed her," Edward said heartbreakingly. "You don't even know if it's going to work. If we'll ever be able to get her out of there."

Carlisle swallowed. "You're right. But it's the best shot we have. I believe in her. She's proven to me that she's a survivor. She can…take it. Zafrina just needs a little time to set everything else up."

"I fucking hate you," Edward whimpered. Apparently, he still had tears left in him. "As soon as this is all over…"

Carlisle smiled sadly. He didn't have to say it. "I know."

Ding.

Edward widened his eyes with dread. The notification had been sent to both of their cellphones at exactly the same time. Before Edward could reach for his on the nightstand, however, Carlisle had swiftly walked over to swat it away from him and letting it clatter on the floor.

"Give it to me!" he cried, writhing once more against the cuffs. "I need to see––"

"Not yet," Carlisle calmly said, switching on his own cellphone. It was a message from an anonymous number. With a link.

The message was simple. Bluewave or Fortuna?

As soon as he clicked on the link, his knees couldn't help but buckle at the sight of the live feed, that he sank onto the edge of Edward's bed.

If they survived this, his son was truly going to kill him this time. And he couldn't blame him.

Bella had no idea how long she'd been in this room. Tied to this chair. How long she'd been…But that didn't matter. Perhaps it was better this way, to feel as if time was standing still. So that if ever she made it out, she could pretend it had all been just a dream.

After the countless of sessions she'd suffered, her green dress that had been previously modest and gorgeous before was now in tatters. Bloodied. That was…okay. Everything was okay.

She leaned her head back––wincing slightly from the bruising around her eyes, lips, and neck––and inhaled slowly. She closed her eyes. To remember Carlisle's sweet, angelic face during that conversation in the car before her first trip to the shooting range. When he finally revealed to her the endgame and the part she had to play.

Several Months Ago

"But what prevails now?"

"Hmm. Are you going to tell Edward?"

"I––What?"

"If I admit it to you––something I've never told anyone before––are you going to tell him?"

A long pause. "I will, if I think he needs to know."

Carlisle smiled down at her. For a long while, she thought the man was never going to respond. A full minute passed before he finally said, "Esme was dead to me long before she took her own life all those years ago."

Esme. Was that…? "What are you talking about?"

"I'd already begun to miss her even while she was still alive," he clarified solemnly, not looking at her. His cerulean orbs were a million miles away. "And I'll continue to until I'm dead. Edward doesn't know that. And in my eyes, he doesn't need to. Because––he was the reason. His being born took the life out of her."

Bella exhaled sharply.

"Before anything else, let me tell you how Bluewave began," he said slowly, getting himself comfortable in his seat. "There's…no such thing as a natural, willing banding of depraved misfits in the drug, sex, and murder businesses. I created it with the underhand license from the godforsaken US government itself.

"I didn't really start out as a dealer, or a murderer, or a pimp. While I did have connections in those areas and had experienced killing before, my first real adult job at the tender age of nineteen was for a judge. A corrupt one, naturally. He'd heard of my cold blood and my––charming nature and decided to pull me out of the streets to do his dirty work. He'd let certain crimes slide if they had backing, and as long as I keep them in check. It was simple.

"Then it got…big a little too fast," Carlisle admitted, his lips curving to a small smile. "There might be more depraved assholes elected in government than there are Bluewave players, honestly. And they're more terrifying at times because public power, sweetheart, is an addiction, and it's almost as destructive as the bloodlust you and I share. Soon, every single one of these fuckers knew my name and wanted to use me to gain or maintain power."

"That's––scary," Bella decided to say.

Carlisle raised a brow.

She pursed her lips before admitting, "And fascinating. Let me guess. You thrived in it."

"I adored it," Carlisle agreed. "Especially in the first couple of years. Being licensed to kill and maim and control…It was how I was able to hone my skills in the underground. Eventually, I gained enough favors to get their backing to build my dream. Bluewave. The one and only criminal organization that kept all major crimes in check––drugs, sex, guns, and murder––with the government's consent."

"How did you even manage to secure that?"

"I proposed it at the right time," Carlisle explained. "Those were the years crime and death rates were through the roof, and the country was desperate to have someone, anyone to regain control. To keep the big criminals in line.

"I pitched Bluewave. I would collect these wayward misfits and feed them the vision of becoming a part of something bigger than themselves. I get to decide when to invest, when to have players partner with each other, when to kill or cut them off, when and where to distribute the goods––all dependent on the highest bidder from our legal sponsors. The results were…fantastic. Civilian death rates dropped. The drugs, guns, and sex trades were controlled. The only casualties we had were infighting––and still controlled, with my code of neutrality."

Bella couldn't help but feel her chest warm at the sight of the man's self-satisfied smile. This truly was his pride and joy, just as Edward had told her earlier. Then she remembered. "And then…you met her."

At that, Carlisle's smile turned wistful. "I wasn't supposed to meet her. I was only supposed to kill her."

Her eyes widened into saucers.

"It was a simple task," Carlisle sighed. "She was painted to me as a young, simple-minded mistress of a certain government official. She'd decided to blackmail the man with incriminating photos and videos. I had to take her down."

"But you didn't," Bella murmured, still in awe. "Why?"

Carlisle chuckled softly, recalling the fond memory. "Because she wasn't simple-minded at all. She was already waiting for me to arrive when I came. And God, she was…beautiful. She'd gotten all dressed up, even prepared a candle-lit dinner for the man who was sent to kill her. I was caught off-guard. And I just couldn't help myself."

Bella watched as the man brought his hands to his face, massaging the sides of his head.

"I'd never fallen in love before," he admitted. "I didn't even know what it meant, or that I was even capable. But like I said, I just couldn't help it. I decided to keep her, despite all the consequences. And for a long time, it was perfect. Just like you, she…loved my world, because it meant she was free to do what she liked. Loved me for me. She was my––soulmate. No one can ever have a hold on me the way she had. Forever."

Carlisle paused for a moment, his expression hardening. "But because I'd never fallen in love before, I didn't see too far ahead. Didn't see her shortcomings and flaws for what they were. Didn't fully comprehend the consequences of pulling her in too deep. See––this was why I was so hard on Edward for doing this to you. Because eventually, even she had her limits. And her breaking point was when we…had him."

"I…don't understand." Bella's eyes roamed frenziedly around the features of the man next to her. "I really don't. What––"

"She was happy at first, while she was still in the early months. Until it sunk in later on, just what being a mother––the responsibility meant. Especially when I had to…force her off her vices."

His eyes had turned cold when he turned to her. Bella maintained her gaze, finally understanding. Shortcomings and flaws…

"I loved her, Bella," he asserted, as if to defend himself. "Believe me, I tried to go easy on her. But I just––couldn't let her kill the boy that way. I knew she wouldn't stop on her own. She'd always find a way. So I had to be rash. I––held her down. Basically kept my own wife imprisoned like an animal for months, until he was born."

Oh… "I'm so sorry."

Carlisle looked mildly surprised at her strange response. Regardless, he continued by saying, "I thought it would be better after that. That seeing him would…make everything okay. That she'd love him, just the way I did from the moment I saw him."

Bella's hands shook at the admission. The realization. That all this time––

"And then I caught her one day, hovering over his crib, holding a gun to his head."

Silence.

"That's when I knew," he sighed, rubbing his temple. "She's dead. And I killed her, by pulling her in, by selfishly loving and keeping her by my side. I'll never forgive myself for that."

Bella looked down. "And Edward never knew? What she was really like?"

"I decided to let the shell of what was left of her to do what it wants," Carlisle said bitterly. "Let her take what she wanted, whenever she wanted. She practically never came out of our bedroom. And as much as I could, as soon as the boy turned thirteen, I would bring him along with me. To…work."

"A kid? To Bluewave?"

"Ah, he still never forgave me for that," he chuckled darkly. "The boy didn't inherit either of his parents' corrupted hearts. But while I always envisioned him to take over Bluewave for me one day, that goal was only ever secondary. I only brought him along so much so that he'd have the least amount of time with his mother.

"I let him believe that Esme was only ever that way because of me––since to an extent, it was true. I let him believe she loved him, in her own way. I didn't want him to ever blame himself for…being born."

Bella's heart broke at the sound of the man's voice cracking, and she watched as the corners of his eyes filled with tears. She couldn't help it. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him for an embrace.

He didn't pull away. No, the great, cold-hearted Carlisle Cullen let his head rest on her shoulder as he quietly wept.

"He knows," she said softly against his ear, her hand reaching up to rub his shoulder. "Deep down, he knows. That you care for him."

"You don't understand," he sighed. Raising his head to face her, he said, "I do know that. But you asked me earlier, as to what prevails now. Above everything else."

"I…see. Edward does."

"Above everything else, Bella," he repeated. "Even you."

Her hand fell limply to her sides.

"I know why he so easily agreed to let you come with me," he said quietly. "To cheer me up. He knows I…care about you. That I have a soft spot for you, especially after finally seeing you for what you are. And he's right. You're very easy to like, Bella Swan. I see the best of me in you."

Bella felt a shy smile come on, and her cheeks instantly warmed at his words.

"Which is why I'm sorry," he sighed, a wistful smile on his plump lips. "For what I'm about to ask of you, and what I want to put you through."

She tilted her head in confusion.

"I know he's your priority, too." He took her hands in his and placed them on his lap. "And I'm going to selfishly take advantage of that. Tell me, sweetheart, just how much would you do for love?"

Bella's hands tightened around his. Her eyes were wide and determined when she said, "I already promised I'd go to the pits of hell for him."

Carlisle smiled sadly. "Lovely. Because that's exactly where I'm telling you to go."

Present

She turned her head towards the sound of the metal door of the basement room opening again. Fuck. She just got a beating session not too long ago. Or was it already too long ago? God, she just couldn't keep track––

"Ah, sweet Dame Fortuna."

A disgusted shiver ran down her spine once she recognized the Italian lilt of the man's voice. "You again? I'm starting to think you have a big crush on me, Laurent."

The man chuckled softly as he came forward to reveal himself. He had changed out of his clothes from earlier but was well-dressed as usual, in a pretentious patterned shirt and a pair of black slacks. His long dark hair was slicked back and combed.

"Still so feisty," he noted. "I made a bet, you know, as to how long you can keep this up. I'm giving it around, say, five days of this before you finally fall apart."

Bella swallowed once. "What were the other bets?"

"They're not as optimistic," he admitted, finally stopping a foot away from her. Bella gritted her teeth when he leaned down and lifted her by the chin. "They average around two."

"Hmm."

"I'm still very flattered you dressed yourself up for me the other day," he hummed, his other hand wandering down to her bare arms. His brows furrowed with annoyance as he regarded the state of the dress. "Fucking savages. I told them not to ruin it."

So it's been less than two days. Bella closed her eyes, taking a mental note of that. "Perhaps you can get me a new one. I kind of need a shower, too."

Laurent's eyes widened with the thought of that. "Do you now?"

Bella tilted her head. "Perhaps you'd like to join me?"

The man looked like he was seriously considering it. In the end, however, he pursed his lips and turned around to stare at something at the dark, far end of the wall. "I sure hope they caught you saying that."

"What?"

"Your fans," Laurent giggled, stepping aside so she could take a look. It didn't take too long for her to find it––the vague shape of a camera on a tripod, and the red blinking light that signaled she was being recorded.

Okay. Perfect. That meant they were streaming audio, too. "What fans?"

"We believed it would drive the message closer to home if the Cullens actually saw what you're going through," Laurent said with a wicked smile as he casually paced. "Their favorite pet. I heard you're quite valuable to them."

Bella's gaze fell to the floor. "If I'm so valuable, they'd be here by now."

"Oh, dear…" He knelt before her, his almost jet-black eyes looking over her sullen expression. "No, no, no. Don't fall apart just yet. Let me have the five days, at least."

She pursed her lips for a moment, before leaning back in her seat and putting on a small, gentle smile.

"Perfect," he cooed, tracing the side of her jaw. "So beautiful. I…can't help myself, especially now that we have an audience."

Bella kept the smile on as the man's hand wandered further down the dress he liked.

Later that night––she supposed it was very late, because she could only vaguely hear the crickets outside––she decided to finally send the message. She adjusted herself in her seat, flipped her hair to the side, and rolled a shoulder to wipe away the dried tears on her cheek.

"I know you're listening."

She looked towards the faint, red blinking at the other end of the wall.

Putting on a smile again, she said, "I know it hurts to see me this way. To see what I'm going through. But just remember that I willingly volunteered to do it. This is what I'm capable of."

Her gaze turned downcast now, and she couldn't help but cry softly. "But that doesn't mean I want to die yet. I still have…so much I want to do in this world. I still promised I'd come home. I–-I need to keep that promise, at least. So please. Help me."

Bella continued to cry this way for a long while. Once all her tears were spent, she leaned her head back and sighed. This was…hell. It truly was. If she didn't do something now, her mind was going to snap.

I hold on to a memory. The last good, untainted one I have left.

And I hold on to it so tightly, just so I could have a reason to get out of bed every single morning. To keep going, despite how hopelessly broken everything is anyway.

"Edward," she whimpered.

Bella closed her eyes. Internalizing the scene, in that tiny closet. She realized that while there was no true innocence in that memory, it was still their first retreat; by then, they were both already living their personal hells. It was the first brief moment in time where they pretended everything was…simple. Normal.

And she was before him for the first time, the only man who ever truly mattered in this life. Fate had truly destined them to be together, even way back then.

She began to hum it first, since she didn't quite recall how the first few verses went. But she eventually reached the chorus she knew by heart.

"But if you're too drunk to drive and the music is right

She might let you stay but just for the night

And if she grabs for your hand and drags you along

She might want a kiss before the end of this song

Because love can burn like a…cigarette…"