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A Mobster's Dynasty
Chapter Nine: Sin City
Bella Cullen
As soon as my mother, Esme, and I stepped through the doors of Dior the next morning, an elegant whirlwind of attentive staff whisked us away to the exclusive VIP section, a sanctuary of luxury and opulence. Plush chairs awaited us, inviting us to sink into their comfort as the soft glow of ambient lighting cast a warm halo around the room. The air was scented with a delicate fragrance that whispered of sophistication. Moments later, a poised member of the sales team appeared, gracefully unveiling an exquisite array of gowns, each one more breathtaking than the last, their silken fabrics shimmering under the gentle lights. It was a tantalizing parade of haute couture, designed to captivate and enchant, each piece a masterpiece of art and fashion.
"Mrs Cullen," the associate inquired with a courteous nod, "What can we offer you to drink?" The question hung in the air like a promise of indulgence, as if even the beverages here were crafted to be as extraordinary as their new lines.
I sat there, legs crossed, as if I were witnessing the climax of an enthralling drama unfold right before my eyes. The young and eager sales assistant, unaware that she was about to make the most monumental mistake of her career, approached with an air of misguided authority. It was common knowledge among those acquainted with our family that my father had a unique view of marriageāhe was devoted and married to two women. However, the unspoken rule was clear: only Esme held the title of Mrs. Cullen, while my mother remained without the title in that regard.
The tension in the room was palpable as Esme, poised and unyielding, fixed her gaze on a young woman barely in her twenties. She seemed to shrink under the weight of Esme's steely stare. The manager, oblivious to the delicate balance she was about to disrupt, cleared her throat, her presence a mere whisper against the charged atmosphere that enveloped us all.
"Excuse us for a moment," my mother commanded with a steely yet courteous tone that sent the flustered assistant hurrying away, practically melting into the crowd.
"The audacity of her," Esme seethed, flinging her sunglasses onto a nearby ornament with a flick of disdain before gracefully settling opposite my mother. Her presence was both commanding and unsettling, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.
My mother's eyes met mine with an unspoken message, urging me to disregard Esme's irritation. Esme tucked her legs beneath her, nestling into the sumptuous whiteness of the sofa. We all sunk into its luxurious embrace, our gaze inevitably drawn to the bustling epicenter of the storeāa hive of activity more chaotic than any place we'd encountered today.
My mother gave me a look that silently communicated, "Don't let her bother you."
"Do you still want to go to Chanel?" my mother inquired, turning to Esme.
"Of course, we need to have a fitting. Plus, I was considering the new pencil skirt," Esme replied, her voice tinged with excitement.
"The one with the black belt?" my mother asked, a hint of intrigue in her voice.
"The very same," Esme confirmed, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Can I?" I asked, slowly rising to my feet, and my mother nodded her assent. I needed space, a moment to myself, away from their constant scrutiny and opinions.
As I wandered through the store, past mannequins adorned in elegant black cocktail gowns and pristine white suits, the store assistants began to orbit around me, drawn by the invisible halo of being Carlisle Cullen's daughter. It was a relief to be away from my mother and Esme, to escape their incessant commentary and momentarily step out of the spotlight. As Esme and my mother made their way to the elegant allure of Chanel, Pierce lingered down stairs, waiting patiently while I ascended to a secluded fitting room. The room itself was a sanctuary of luxury, with walls enveloped in plush white leather and light fixtures adorned with intricate golden accents. As we crossed the threshold, the lights softened to a soothing blend of lilac and orange, casting a gentle glow that was easy on the eyes.
"So, you're planning a vacation, right?" the assistant inquired as we entered. Her presence was lively and engaging, and she couldn't have been more than five years my senior.
"Yes," I replied, a hint of anticipation in my voice. "I'll need a few things."
With a swift and graceful motion, she arranged a selection of dresses, trousers, and blouses for me to peruse at my leisure before returning with stacks of shoe boxes that towered like a fashion fortress.
"And what about lingerie?" she asked, positioning herself casually in the doorway.
Lingerie? My go-to was more comfort than coutureāfull briefs and non-wired bras. But she didn't need to know that, and right now, I was free to explore something new without a word.
"Um, do you guys have a range, or is it just a few pieces?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh, we can set you up with everything," the assistant replied, her confidence as seamless as the silks surrounding us.
I nodded, caught in the allure. "Well, what do you have?"
"Tops or bottoms?" she inquired, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of possibility.
"Uh, let's just say both," I ventured, feeling the ground shift beneath me.
"Well, I think we should go for a selection. Lace, of course. Push-ups aren't always essential, butā"
"What's the quality like?" I interrupted, eager and a bit apprehensive.
"They're exquisite. They lift and shape beautifully," she assured, her words weaving a tapestry of elegance.
"So they could take me up a cup size?" I asked, imagining the transformation.
"Absolutely, but didn't you say you wanted bottoms too?"
"I did."
"So are you comfortable with thongs?" Her question hung in the airāa challenge and a dare.
"Absolutely," I lied, my voice steady, though my heart raced.
"Now do you want comfort, or are we going for sexy?"
It didn't matter; no one would see it.
I bit my lower lip, a nervous habit that seemed to ground me in the moment, before asking, "Do you have my brother's account here? Edward Cullen? He gets suits from here, doesn't he?"
The sales assistant nodded, confirming, "He does."
A sly smile spread across my face as I declared, "Perfect. I want everything I purchase today to be charged to his account."
"Miss Cullen," the salesperson hesitated, clearly uncertain about the implications, "we can't proceed without his authorization. Are you certain he willā"
With unwavering confidence, I interrupted, "Oh, he won't object."
"...Alright."
"So something sexy."
"Great, let me see what I can do for you."
Why did I ever ask her to put my shopping on Edward's account? As soon as she left, I found myself pacing the room, my mind racing with the consequences of my actions. I was about to rack up thousands of dollars on his personal tab. To him, it might be a mere drop in the ocean, but I knew I was pushing his limits unnecessarily. A nagging voice echoed in my head, whispering, "What if this really sets him off?"
When I heard the click clack of her heels on the hardwood floor, I followed the sounds.
"Do require anything further, Miss Cullen?"
As the sun began its descent, casting a golden glow over the city, I felt the urgency to prepare for the Vegas venture tightening like a coil inside me. The prospect of confronting Edward's schemes in Sin City was not merely daunting; it was electrifying. I couldn't fathom what Edward had in mind when he persuaded our father to drag me along, but if he anticipated that I'd continue to play his elusive game of cat and mouse, he was in for a shock. Vegas was my battleground, and I was determined to seize control, starting this very moment. Within the next two hours, I meticulously curated a selection of exquisite pieces from Dior, each choice a deliberate statement of intent. Thanks to my family's VIP status, they dispatched a skilled fitter to ensure the gowns hugged my body flawlessly. I savored the luxury of choice, opting for pieces that resonated with my vision rather than succumbing to fleeting trends. This newfound assertiveness was unfamiliar yet exhilarating.
By the end of my spree, I had acquired a stunning array: five sets of tailored trousers, alluring evening gowns, sophisticated cocktail dresses, sky-high heels, sultry lingerie, and sumptuous satin pajamas. Pierce and Nick, my ever-diligent escorts, orchestrated the seamless transfer of my acquisitions from the store to the waiting car. Inside, I lingered, sheltered from prying eyes, until Nick returned to escort me safely, ensuring my privacy remained intact. Taylor was less than thrilled about the press's intrusive interest, and both Pierce and Nick were hyper-vigilant, shielding me from unwanted attention at every turn. As the car smoothly merged into the chaotic dance of the cityscape, the plush interior cocooned me in a deceptive tranquility. Suddenly, my phone pierced the air with its insistent ring, a siren call that could only belong to one person: Edward. My finger lingered above the screen, caught between the urge to confront him and the temptation to ignore his summons.
With a resigned sigh, I instructed my security detail, "No ears, guys." Nick, my ever-reliable driver, nodded and promptly lowered the partition, granting me the privacy I needed.
I accepted the call with calculated calm. "Hello, Edward," I said, my voice a study in cool detachment.
"Isabella," he replied, his tone as flat and unyielding as a marble statue.
"Is there a problem?" I asked, my smirk unfurling despite myself.
"Your purchases are adding up, Isabella, and I'm not sure my father will be impressed with your spending spree," he remarked, his words laced with an almost imperceptible undercurrent of superiority.
"It's not my money, Edward; it's yours," I countered, my voice dripping with mock sweetness.
"Ah, yes," he conceded, his confidence unshaken.
"Did you want me to stop shopping?" I taunted, knowing full well the answer.
"By all means, Isabella, carry on," he replied, his indifference cutting through the line.
My smirk faltered as I pushed further. "So you don't mind me spending... what was it? Five thousand dollars at Dior? Just imagine what I could do at Vuitton."
"You pathetic child," he scoffed, his composure finally cracking. "You think spending a few thousand dollars is enough to test my patience? Get a grip." And with that, he hung up, leaving the air charged with unresolved tension.
I tossed the phone onto the seat beside me, a flicker of self-doubt creeping in. Was he right? Was I truly as pathetic and childish as he claimed? If I had this idea of myself fixed in my mind, then I had to find a way to fix it before Vegas. Whatever my brother had planned was going to begin in Vegas, I was certain of it. The press were sniffing around us like hungry dogs, just waiting for one of us to tip them into the insight of our family, and it's drama. This never-ending drama was sadly my life, and it was a problem. I needed to do something, be better, do better. I needed more in my life than this; I needed to be alive again, to feel excited about the day and not dread whatever was in store for me or one of them. Edward had the wrong idea about me, and I was determined to prove him wrong, and I was going to hit him so hard he might never recover. Edward called me a pathetic child, and I was going to start right there; I was no longer a child. I had it in me to show him the Cullen that I was and not the weak, push-over, and insignificant girl he wanted to think I was. I needed to get myself together before Vegas because Edward was going to lose so badly he'd never even consider treating me this way again.
When we arrived home, I unpacked my items before making my way downstairs to the kitchen. I waited until the staff inside made their way to the dining room to prepare for our evening before I cut through and headed down to the basement. Half of the basement was the safe; I didn't know what was inside it, and I didn't care to know either. The other half was everything Esme wanted kept out of sight: the bulk items, the extra linens, and the hardware. Our basement wasn't your typical dust-covered boxes and spider webs; our house staff had everything categorized, organized, and alphabetized for our needsānot that any of us ever came down into this part of the house anyway. I didn't have a clue about setting up a new door lock; if I knew it all, life wouldn't be nearly as interesting anyway. That's what the internet was handy for; when in doubt, hit the tutorial link and pray for patience. Edward believed my original idea over this lock was to ensure he didn't attempt to claim my virginity, but that was far from the case. This lock was about power; it was a clear and precise 'screw you' to anyone who thought I wasn't capable of getting something done. This lock was my first step to proving myself a true Cullen, capable of running my own life and taking care of myself the way I saw fit.
I had no intention of being seen fitting this thing; I watched and re-watched the tutorial over and over until I was certain I knew the steps. When I was ready, I got a towel and laid it across the doorway; I wasn't going to make a mess. I was going to set this thing up, lock my door, and pack my bags because we were leaving for Vegas tomorrow morning. A private jet was supposed to allow you to travel whenever you wanted; you'd think the days of early check-in were over, but sadly no. Carlisle had business in Sin City in the morning; our takeoff was arranged for four a.m. It was already nine at night, and I was dead on my feet from shopping all day.
The lock was set, but it was a tight fit; opening the door required a little bit of shoulder power. The latch was locked into place, which gave me the final piece of security that no one, not even the staff, could access my room. There was one set of keys, and they would remain with me always; even when I was at the spa or whatever event I had to attend, these keys would never leave my possession. My life had become a minefield of distrust, and I didn't know who was truly there for me anymore and who just wanted to use me for their own personal gain. This door was now secure, and my bedroom was now a sanctuary from everyone else in this house. No one could get in without my permission; no one could sneak in to steal anything or snoop around for anything. I was going to be free from their prying eyes for once, and that was enough to make this worth it.
Just as I was about to start packing for the trip, a sudden knock interrupted my thoughts. I had only just finished assembling the lock, and already someone was eager to enter. I unlatched the door and slid it open, revealing Cora standing there. Cora stood impeccably composed, her tailored skirt and silk blouse accentuating her poised demeanor. Her hair, pinned back into a neat chignon, framed her face with an elegance that seemed effortless. Her expression was as serene as ever, a calm professionalism radiating from her soft smile.
"Miss Cullen," she began, her voice warm yet formal, "Your father requests your presence in the sitting room. He wishes to speak with you and your siblings before he departs for the evening."
I hesitated; my curiosity piqued. "Do you know why he wants to see us?" I asked, a hint of impatience coloring my tone.
Cora maintained her gentle composure, her eyes meeting mine with a steady kindness. "I'm afraid I do not have that information, Miss Cullen. However, if you would kindly follow me."
Reluctantly, I nodded and stepped into the dimly lit hallway, trailing behind Cora. The sound of her heels against the polished wooden floor echoed through the corridor. As we walked, my mind buzzed with questions, each one more pressing than the last.
"Why is my father going out so late?" I inquired again, hoping for a sliver of insight.
Cora did not turn around, her pace unfaltering as she replied, "I'm sorry, Miss Cullen, but I don't know."
"That's fine," I sighed, knowing better than to push any further.
We made our way to the sitting room, where Carlisle waited. I was grateful for the distraction, hoping it would provide some sense of normalcy to this strange day. Carlisle sat on the velvet loveseat, his eyes scanning the pages of his phone with detached precision. Jasper arrived next, though he didn't take his eyes off his screen until we stood alongside me.
Carlisle was always well put together, but his appearance today was especially elegant. He wore a crisp charcoal suit, tailored perfectly to his frame. His silver-tinged hair, a product of his age and distinguished career, added to his sophisticated air.
"Did you have a good day?" he inquired, his question directed at me.
"Me?" I asked, caught off guard.
He nodded. "Yes, Isabella, did you have a good day?"
"I did," I replied, uncertain as to where this conversation was heading.
"I hear you went shopping today," he noted, his gaze focused on me alone.
My mind raced, desperate to decipher Carlisle's true motives. Was this about the money? Did Edward already tell him? Was he waiting for me to incriminate myself?
I took a deep breath and answered carefully, "Yes, I went to Dior and got a few."
"That's nice, sweetheart." Carlisle cut me off when his phone rang. He glanced down at the screen and sighed, his expression weary. He pressed the call button and lifted the phone to his ear. "Good evening, darling."
He paused, listening intently. "Yes, I know you wanted me to stay in tonight. But there's a lot going on right now." Another pause, longer this time. "No, we don't need to get into that again. I can't keep canceling these plans."
With that, he ended the call, tossing the phone onto the couch with an exasperated sigh.
"Another mistress." Jasper whispered, and I nodded.
Emmett joined us next, entering with a white towel around his board shoulders. He strode in confidently, a white towel draped casually over his broad shoulders. His presence was commanding, as always, exuding a kind of effortless strength and ease. Emmett's playful grin matched the twinkle in his eyes, hinting at his mischievous nature. His muscular frame was a testament to his athletic prowess, and despite his imposing stature, there was a warmth in his demeanor that put me at ease.
"What does he want?" Emmett murmured, rubbing his ears dry with the towel.
I shrugged, "I don't know."
Emmett shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and disappointment. "That's just like him; he never gives us a straight answer. I'm not even surprised anymore."
Emmett draped his towel across the back of a chair and settled in, his brow furrowed in contemplation.
We waited in silence until we heard the undeniable footsteps of Edward drawing closer. I glanced up and saw Edward sauntering in, his face set in a stern mask. He surveyed the room with cold disinterest before making his way to the bar and pouring himself a drink. He sipped his scotch, savoring the taste before turning to face us.
"Sorry, I'm late," he said, his tone flat and emotionless.
"Why are we here?" Emmett asked, his voice filled with impatience.
Edward's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "I thought it wise to have a word with everyone before our journey to Vegas tomorrow morning."
"Vegas?" I repeated, my pulse racing at the mere mention of the city.
Edward turned to me with an amused chuckle. "Yes, Isabella, Vegas. Do try to keep up."
I bristled at the condescension in his tone but bit back a retort.
"Seriously?" I murmured, noticing the sly grin spreading across Jasper's face.
Edward sat down on the loveseat opposite Carlisle, resting one leg over the other and leaning back as though he were addressing a room full of admirers. His eyes scanned our faces, studying our reactions as he spoke.
"I called you here because there are a few ground rules being put in place," Edward's dark eyes met mine. "And by put in place, I mean these rules will be strictly enforced."
My heart thumped erratically as I anticipated his next words.
"The press have been nosing around, getting a bit too curious about our family," he explained, his gaze flitting from me to Emmett to Jasper. "And we've got a lot of business going on," he continued, glancing pointedly at Carlisle. "Which means we need to be careful about what we say and how we say it. One wrong move and everything could come crashing down around us."
His words hung heavy in the air, and we nodded in understanding.
"So this is how it's going to play," Edward leaned forward, his expression serious. "From now until after Vegas, no one talks to the press. We don't make any statements; we don't make any comments. Nothing. Got it?"
Emmett and Jasper both nodded, but I remained motionless, my mind racing to process his words and my possible response.
"Am I clear Isabella?"
This was my first real chance to assert myself, to demonstrate that I had the courage and resolve to match my words. If I backed down now, I would lose all credibility and any respect the others might have for me. This was itāthe moment I'd been waiting for.
"Yes, you are," I replied, my tone steady and clear. "Now are you done?"
Beside me, I could see Jasper and Emmett staring at me with wide eyes, their disbelief almost palpable.
I had just crossed an invisible line, one I never imagined I'd dare approach, let alone stride confidently over. Jasper's mouth opened slightly, as if he were about to speak, but no words came out. Emmett, on the other hand, looked caught between amusement and shock, his eyebrows raised high on his forehead.
I could almost hear the collective intake of breath from those around us, the gasps barely stifled. My heart pounded in my chest, a drumbeat of defiance and exhilaration. I stood my ground, determined not to let my resolve waver. The silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity, and I knew that this was a turning point. I had said itāthere was no going back now. Carlisle finally looked up from his phone, his gaze sweeping over the room. I expected him to intervene, but instead he looked to Edward for his reaction to my outburst.
Edward sat perfectly still, his expression impassive. He did not move or speak, and for a moment, I thought he hadn't heard me. But then he took a long, deliberate sip of his Scotch before setting down the glass and addressing me directly. His tone was cool and measured, as if we were discussing the weather.
"I'm sorry, Isabella; I didn't quite catch that. Care to repeat yourself?"
I took a deep breath, steadying myself for what was sure to be an explosive reaction. I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze squarely. A low murmur rippled through the room, and I could feel the tension rising. Emmett looked as if he was ready to burst into laughter, and Jasper wore a satisfied grin.
"I'm just saying, we all have a lot to do." My tone was firm but not disrespectful. "So if there's nothing else, I'll go ahead and get some sleep before tomorrow."
There was a hushed silence as Edward contemplated his next move. He stared at me; his eyes narrowed, and I knew he was weighing the possible consequences of his decision. Would he continue to push back, or would he accept my terms?
"We're nowhere near done, Isabella," Edward countered, his voice laced with menace. "But as you've already made up your mind, we can continue this discussion later."
The dismissal in his tone was unmistakable, and I knew I'd won the first round. No, wait a minute. I hadn't won.
"Are you asking me to leave?" I pressed, crossing my arms across my chest.
"Isabella," Carlisle warned, his voice carrying a note of finality. "Don't press your luck."
I held my breath, waiting for Edward's response. His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek, but he did not speak.
Edward was far from stupid; he wouldn't let the rest of the family know he and I weren't getting along. He knew I was testing his patience and his authority in front of everyone. As much as Edward may have wanted to lash out at me for my blatant disobedience, he didn't; he maintained his composure, refusing to give me the satisfaction of seeing him lose control.
"Alright then," I shrugged, trying to keep my expression neutral. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and strode out of the room, holding my head high. Behind me, I could hear the faint sound of Jasper's laughter, followed by Emmett's booming voice. But I kept walking, unwilling to show any sign of weakness.
As I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, I felt a mix of pride and apprehension. I had stood up to Edward and won, but I knew that the next few days would be anything but easy. The Cullens were a powerful family, and I was now a part of that world whether I liked it or not. I made a vow to myself right then as I returned to my room: every single time Edward pushed my buttons in Vegas, I would push back.
I knew how important Vegas was; I needed to go there and prove to everyone I was an equal member of this family. The only problem was this: I'd just gone toe-to-toe with the head of the family, and he didn't look too happy about it. In fact, I'd almost say he was pissed.
I wasn't naive enough to think my little rebellion wouldn't have consequences. There would be repercussions for my actions, of that I was sure. But I was also certain that if I showed them I was willing to stand up for myself, they'd have to start taking me seriously. No, he was going to start taking me seriously because I wasn't the same timid, terrified girl I was before. I had undergone a profound transformation, emerging with newfound strength and confidence. My goals were clear, and I embraced the courage to pursue them relentlessly. I began by securing the door, ensuring no interruptions would disturb me this evening. Even if someone were to knock, my plan was to ignore them. I was going to get myself into the zen place I needed in order to prioritize tonight's goals and get a restful night's sleep. But my body was spilling over with adrenaline, and I couldn't stay still. I paced around my room, my mind racing with possibilities and potential scenarios for Vegas.
I could do this, I reminded myself. I could do this, and I could do it well.
I stepped into my closet, the soft carpet underfoot whispering beneath my toes. I reached for my Gucci signature monogram luggage, its familiar pattern a testament to countless journeys. The matching carry-on followed, each piece carefully placed upon the pristine white carpet, ready for the adventure that lay ahead. Edward thought he had me figured out; he thought he had this entire trip perfectly mapped out, and I was going to prove him wrong. I didn't pack how I normally would for a trip; there were no comfortable socks, everyday sneakers, or even a single pair of cotton pajamas. I was packing for my first ever trip to Sin City, and I was going to give myself permission to let loose and have fun.
I pulled open my drawers, searching for the perfect items to bring along. The lingerie section called to me first, and I selected several sets, each more revealing than the last and each of them still containing their tags. I'd never actually worn these before, but they were so sexy and so tempting that I couldn't resist buying them over these last few days. As I placed the delicate lace and silk into my suitcase, a thrill ran through meāthe knowledge that I was about to enter into the next phase of my life and I would never look back.
I continued with my preparations, packing only the finest pieces of clothing, shoes, jewelry, and accessories. My dress choices consisted of everything really, from slinky cocktail dresses to barely-there club dress bodycons. My shoes ranged from strappy stilettos to sky-high pumps and everything in between. My jewelry selection consisted of the most expensive, dazzling pieces I owned. I took care to ensure every outfit was perfect, coordinating all the elements to create stunning pieces that would really stick to Edward.
After my luggage was packed, I moved on to my beauty products before collecting the essentials, such as tech and money. It was late when I finally settled down. I was tired and finally able to sleep. The last thing I remembered was a soft knock at my door.
When I woke up the next morning, I was glad I had taken the time to set my alarm on vibrate instead of my nerve-ending alarm clock. I groaned and turned off the annoying device before climbing out of bed and stretching languidly. I knew I was going to have to get moving if I wanted to stick with my plans and get it all done and be the first ready to leave. I made my way into my en suite bathroom, turning the shower on to allow it to warm up as I got organized. I wasn't typically so focused, but the serge of adrenaline coursing through my body told me I was ready and eager to show my family and the press what I was made of. After my luggage was packed, I moved on to my beauty products before collecting the essentials, such as tech and money. It was late when I finally settled down. I was tired and finally able to sleep. The last thing I remembered was a soft knock at my door.
When I woke up the next morning, I was glad I had taken the time to set my alarm on vibrate instead of my nerve-ending alarm clock. I groaned and turned off the annoying device before climbing out of bed and stretching languidly. I knew I was going to have to get moving if I wanted to stick with my plans and get it all done and be the first ready to leave. I made my way into my en suite bathroom, turning the shower on to allow it to warm up as I got organized. I wasn't typically so focused, but the serge of adrenaline coursing through my body told me I was ready and eager to show my family and the press what I was made of.
The steam from the shower began to fog up the mirror, creating a canvas for the transformation I was about to undergo. I started by stepping under the warm water, letting it cascade over me like a gentle waterfall, washing away any remnants of the day. The first task was shaving, a ritual that always made me feel polished and renewed. I lathered up the shaving cream and carefully shaved my legs, moving with precision from my ankles upwards. Each stroke of the razor was deliberate and satisfying, leaving my skin smooth and soft. Next, I turned my attention to my thighs, then under my arms, ensuring every inch was perfectly smooth. There was something empowering about taking this time for myself, about the small act of self-care that promised confidence. After shaving, I reached for my shampoo and massaged it into my scalp, relishing the rich lather. I rinsed and repeated the process, knowing that the extra step would leave my hair looking and feeling its best. Following up with conditioner, I combed my fingers through my hair, detangling any knots as the conditioner worked its magic.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel, gently squeezing out excess water. I was careful not to rustle it, avoiding the frizz that would sabotage my efforts. With the towel draped over my shoulders, I plugged in the hairdryer and began the meticulous process of blow-drying my hair sleek. I took my time, section by section, until my hair resembled a curtain of silk. Once dry, I heated up my straighteners and polished each strand to a glossy finish. The sight in the mirror was rewarding; my hair looked as though I'd just stepped out of a salon; the baby hairs tamed and smoothed into submission. It was proof that patience and effort could yield stunning results. With my hair perfect, I moved on to my brows, giving them a slight tweeze before filling them in with a dark brown eyeshadow. The result was natural yet defined, a frame for my eyes that I my makeup, I opted for simplicity. A light layer of foundation evened out my skin tone. Black eyeliner traced my eyes, adding a touch of drama. I swept a soft brown shimmer across my eyelids for subtle depth and finished with a swipe of soft pink gloss on my lips. After wiping it off for a cleaner application, I lined my lips and reapplied, creating a slight plumpness that was both subtle and alluring. I chose my jewelry with care. A noticeable Dior watch graced my wrist, its elegance understated yet striking. Diamond earrings sparkled at my ears, adding a touch of sophistication without overwhelming my look. The jewelry was simple, intended to complement rather than compete with my outfit, which was waiting for me in the closet.
With a flutter of nerves, I made my way to the closet and laid eyes on my outfit choice: a black strappy V-neck sleeveless bodycon dress that clung to my curves like a second skin. It was daring, far from my usual style, yet thrilling in its boldness. Paired with black leather seven-inch pumps, I felt both powerful and feminine. The piĆØce de rĆ©sistance was my sleeveless chinchilla coat, a luxurious addition I'd never worn before. Finally, I slipped on my wide Dior sunglasses, a touch of mystery and glamour. I glanced in the mirror, barely recognizing the confident woman staring back. I looked like the daughter of Carlisle Cullen, poised and ready to conquer Vegas.
It felt amazing to put on a sexy dress, made even sexier by the fact that I was wearing my first ever push-up bra beneath it. You'd swear by looking at me that I was the same girl from before. That timid, nervous girl had been replaced by a strong, empowered woman. There was a gentle knock on my bedroom door soon after; it was one of the butlers here to collect my luggage, which he took with him, leaving me alone and with some time to spare. I reapplied some more lip gloss and sprayed myself with my perfume before I left my room armed with my outfit and my clutch. I found the entire family in the foyer, including Edward. He was dressed in a black Armani suit with a crisp black shirt, his tie a shade of deep red that complemented his coloring perfectly. As I descended the staircase, he looked up and our eyes locked, and I was suddenly struck by the intensity of his gaze. It was as if he could see right through me, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. That was until I looked away from him, refusing to give him any sort of satisfaction. I wasn't the first person ready to go; they'd all beaten me here, but that didn't matter now. What mattered was keeping composure around Edward, keeping my chin up and my attention focused. I felt Edward's eyes on me as we made our way towards the front door together. Outside, there was a black Hummer limousine ready for us. While Carlisle spoke with secruity, Jasper and Emmett climbed in, leaving me with Edward. He reached forward and opened the door, allowing me to climb in first before he followed behind me. I slid into the spacious interior, taking in the luxurious details. The seats were a supple leather, and the windows tinted for privacy. Carlisle was quick to join us.
"Security isn't meeting my expectations." He announced.
"There's already arrangements to replace half of them." Edward replied as he sat down, making sure he was next to me.
"Good." Carlisle nodded.
"Go," Edward instructed the driver.
We were off. I was so excited for what was to come that I barely registered the drive to the private airport. When we arrived, we waited inside until given the all-clear from our security. Carlisle stepped out first and boarded the plane without looking back to us as we got out next. Edward got out in front of me and offered me his hand, which I did not take as I stepped out. I had to grip the railings as my heels were a lot higher than normal, causing my legs to feel a little unsteady. Edward must have seen this because he placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me towards the plane.
"What the hell do you think you're wearing?" Edward hissed in my ear.
I pulled away from his touch, determined to stand my ground. "I'm wearing exactly what I want." I responded, my voice clear and direct.
"You're trying my patience, Isabella." He warned.
"If you don't like it, you can look away." I shot back, refusing to back down.
When I reached the steps of the private jet, I flipped my hair back over my shoulder to meet his gaze.
"Do you even trust yourself behind me?" I teased.
My comment must have caught him off guard because his eyes widened. Seizing the moment, I began ascending the stairs, fully aware of his presence close behind me. His breath was hot on my neck, but I continued with purpose, feeling the intensity of his gaze as I climbed. My heart was pounding, the thrill of this newfound power coursing through me like a drug. The steps were narrow, forcing us close together. I felt the heat of his body against mine as we climbed, my own responding with an awareness I couldn't deny. Inside the cabin, everything was perfect; there was a grouping of cream-colored couches, individual seats, and tables to work on. I quickly took one of the seats that would give me a bit of distance from Edward, right in the back, out of sight of the others. When one of the flight attendants saw me coming towards her, I turned my back to her and felt her hands come over my shoulders, as on the other side of the cabin directly ahead of me was Edward staring back at me as my dress beneath was finally revealed. The deep V showed my cleavage, which was pushed up by the push-up bra beneath. I thanked the flight attendant before taking my seat near the window, refusing to give Edward the satisfaction of looking his way again. I knew he'd be furious and coming to terms with the fact that I wasn't in the playing mood. He was fighting fire with fire now that I knew what I was capable of. When asked what I wanted to drink, I opted for a glass of orange juice, and for my breakfast, I selected the vegetable ommelette. I'd gotten so carried away with everything yesterday that food had been the last thing on my mind. The captain came into the cabin and shook hands with my father and Edward before returning to the cockpit to clear us for takeoff.
Suddenly, I noticed Edward standing up from his seat on the other side of the cabin, where he had been sitting with my father and brothers. With a purposeful stride, he made his way down the aisle towards the back of the plane. His eyes remained averted, never once meeting mine, even as he lowered himself into the seat beside me and fastened his seatbelt with a quiet click. My body stiffened, but I refused to look his way, instead choosing to focus my attention outside my window.
"So you think you've won?" He asked.
"No," I replied.
"You're trying my patience."
"Then do something about it." I hissed.
His fingers encircled my wrist with a firm yet gentle grip and yanked me closer to him, forcing me to meet his gaze. There was a fire burning in his eyes, a silent warning that he was close to the breaking point. The intensity of his stare made my pulse quicken, but I wouldn't look away; it wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected me. His breath was hot against my cheek as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke.
"Careful little girl, or you'll find yourself over my knee."
My cheeks burned, and a flush crept up my neck at the image that flooded my mind. In spite of my protests, he had already worked his way under my skin, burrowing himself inside my head, where he refused to let go. So I had to push back just as hard as he did.
"Do you promise?" I whispered back.
He stiffened at my words, pulling back just far enough to see my face. I saw the shock in his features, a brief crack in his otherwise impenetrable faƧade. I savored the moment, relishing in the knowledge that my response had shaken him, if only for a few seconds. His hand still encircled my wrist, his thumb brushing against my palm in an absentminded caress. I yanked it away, earning a low chuckle in response. We sat in silence, his mere presence grating on my nerves.
"Do it." I challenged, earning a sharp glare.
The challenge was clear, and I knew it wouldn't be long before he met it. His eyes were dark, never once releasing me from his predatory gaze as he stoked the fire that simmered inside him.
"You would like that, wouldn't you?" He brought his hand under my chin, gently forcing me to look at him. "You're playing a dangerous game, little girl."
"Oh yeah?" I leaned closer, feeling his warmth. "What's the worst that could happen?"
His grip tightened, and a wave of arousal flooded through me as his eyes bored into me. Even if I had known, there was no turning back now. If he were a predator, I was willing prey, curious to know how far I could push before he snapped.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Anytime you're ready, brother." I countered.
"Ask nicely."
"Fuck you," I hissed.
Edward smirked, bringing his hand from beneath my chin and sliding it down my back until it was on the edge of touching my ass where my dress left so much skin exposed. I squirmed, ready for his assault, but his expression was calm, almost lazy, as his fingers moved lower and lower towards the small of my back, always stopping right when I thought his hand was going to dip beneath the hem.
"Is this what you want? You want my hands upon you," he finally slid them down to grip my ass, squeezing tightly and making me gasp in pleasure. "To feel my touch against your aching thighs, beneath the swell of your ass, to make you quiver and cry?"
I closed my eyes, and a soft moan escaped my lips as I felt his hands touching me. They were rough, but not harsh. Just the right amount of firmness, knowing exactly what their job was to do and how best to execute their commands.I loved it; the mixture of pain and pleasure was a dizzying cocktail that threatened to overwhelm me.
"You would give it to me, wouldn't you?" Edward grunted, his voice low and raw with his lust. "You'd give me everything."
"Everything," I panted, my voice strained. "Every. single . fucking . thing." I told him before I began to smirk, "If I lost my fucking mind."
I pushed myself away from him, sitting the furthest away from him in my chair as I could go without appearing rude to the others in the cabin. I wanted to look out the window, but for now the last thing I wanted to do was face my brother. Edward left his seat beside me just as the plane ascended above the clouds. I could see my brothers, Carlisle and Edward, sitting together, chatting and laughing, leaving me to sit here in my own misery.
I finished up my breakfast and used the bathroom before returning to my seat completely refreshed. That's until I felt someone sit next to me. I was shocked when Edward chose to be seated next to me again. I just looked at him with such a confused expression, as there wasn't enough room to do what he wanted to me, and yet he did. I eyed him.
"What did I do wrong now?" I wondered aloud.
"Oh, everything."
I sucked in a deep breath, refusing to be cowed.
"I spent ten years in prison, Isabella. I'm a patient man, but even I have my limits." He said quietly.
My first inclination was to lash out, but I was smarter than that. Instead, I leaned closer, close enough to smell the aftershave lingering on his skin.
"And how do I push those limits?" I asked, my voice just as quiet.
Edward smirked his expression a teasing one, the corner of his lips curled into an arrogant grin. When he spoke, his tone dripped with contempt, his words slow, each one enunciated for emphasis. As he leaned in to whisper in my ear, I knew I was in trouble now.
"Keep trying, little girl, and I'll drag you into the bathroom right here and now."
It didn't escape me that his words were more of a promise than a threat. Every word, every movement, hinted at his frustration, his control threatening to snap at any moment. My breathing grew ragged, imagining the scenario, his hands upon me, touching me with purpose. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to suppress the moan that threatened to escape.
"But Carlisle wouldn't want that, would he?" I whispered.
Edward's lips brushed against the shell of my ear, his breath hot and damp as he spoke.
"Care to test that theory?"
The very notion sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through my body. Part of me wanted to tell him to, to finally satisfy the long forgotten ache between my legs that screamed out for him. But now was not the time, not with so many people around. My inner musings were shattered when he reached over, his deft fingers tightening my seatbelt across my waist and securing the buckle in the center.
"Isabella," his voice was thick and hoarse.
I knew then that we were both feeling the same things, desperate to release the tension building inside. Unsure of whether he would seek it with anger or patience, my own resolution crumbled further still. As I fought to regain my composure, I felt a surge of boldness growing within me. Whatever weakness I had shown him could not stand; I must force him to reconsider his approach.
"Yes?" I purred as a mask of confidence settled over my features.
"Do you have any intention of behaving yourself today?"
Despite myself, a slight grin tugged at the corner of my lips, and I raised a single eyebrow. Edward glared at me with dark, inscrutable eyes, his expression all the more intimidating because of its utter stillness. I let out a slight sigh before I shook my head slowly, meeting his gaze without flinching. At this, his features betrayed no emotion save a subtle flicker deep behind his eyes. There was a long, tense pause in which neither of us moved, my pulse quickened, and I saw his jaw tighten as if struggling to contain something deep within.
"You bring this upon yourself, Isabella."
Edward grabbed my wrist as he rose to his feet. I looked down at my brothers; both of them were asleep, and including my father, they were all facing forward, completely unaware as Edward guided me through to the back of the cabin, where the doors to the bathrooms were. Edward yanked open the door and pulled me inside, keeping me against him, and he reached over his other hand behind us to lock the door and shut off the light above us, leaving the both of us standing in the complete darkness. It was no secret that Edward was a mobster that was well beyond me being afraid of the dark; it was more like I had made myself accustomed to being afraid, but I was ready to push him to his limits. I stepped back just a little, unable to read the depth of his emotions in the sudden and complete darkness of the cramped space. He pinned my back against the cool wall, a chill spreading through my body in the eerie silence. I could just barely see him leaning in close, his arm pressing against the wall over my shoulder. His soft breathing was the only noise in the small bathroom, giving no hint as to his reaction.
"Isabella," he said quietly.
He didn't respond, his body seemingly frozen. Then I felt the hard planes of his muscles tense, his face hovering close enough to smell the scent of alcohol and peppermint lingering on his breath. We stood mere inches apart, the proximity creating a different kind of tension, our bodies restrained by the thin boundary of personal space.
"You're pushing your luck. Pushing very hard." His tone held a hard edge, steely and unrelenting.
With a stuttering breath, I leaned towards him, daring to enter that intimate boundary we had drawn. The tip of my nose brushed his cheek, eliciting an almost imperceptible twitch.
"Isn't that the point?"
"Are you trying to drive me crazy?"
His voice betrayed his dark desire, deeper and rougher than usual.
"I think that ship has sailed." I whispered breathily.
"This is not a game," he warned.
"Of course it is."
"The man I am," his voice cracked, the strain apparent in the tremor of his breath. "I could make you do things you'd never imagined."
The statement hung in the empty space between us, left open to interpretation and suggestion. To hell with it; we'd gone this far, and I was utterly defenseless against the temptation of his threats. Without hesitation, I uttered the one word that came instantly to mind.
"Promise?"
That one word was the most dangerous choice, yet I didn't hesitate, confident in his response. But he gave no answer, instead choosing to breach the unspoken barrier that remained. His fingers traced the outside of my thighs, curving inward with purpose, each motion slow and controlled. I swallowed a gasp, fighting to contain the urge to squirm.
"Are you going to cum?" Edward breathed against my throat.
"Like you give a shit."
His fingers gripped the edge of my dress and began to push upward, the hem coming higher and higher. A cool breeze flooded in, followed by his palm pressing firmly against my thigh.
Edward lifted me by my waist, setting me upon the sink and pushing himself between my thighs.
"Don't play with me." He rasped, "Tell me if I stop, you'll hate me."
I rolled my eyes and sank my nails into his back.
"Does that feel like I'm playing?" I sneered.
A moan sounded from his throat as his hands roamed up the dress and caressed along my thighs. I leaned against the glass as I held him tightly against me; the weight of him against my center was just enough to leave me wanting more. My breath came in heavy pants, causing the fog to form along the window I rested upon. His lips explored the curve of my neck, slowly tracing a wet, warm trail up to my earlobe, gently biting down and causing me to moan, resulting in his hand lifting to cover my mouth. My hands crawled up the back of his neck, sinking my nails into his skin and pulling him as close as possible until I could feel a building sensation within me.
"What's happening?" I whimpered as my body trembled beneath him.
"Do you want me to stop?"
My body ached as I felt Edward press against me, and his hand trailed upwards, brushing over my hips, causing me to arch my back from the wall. For a moment, it didn't seem so bad, and as his fingers danced across my inner thigh, the urge to scream forced my lips into the flesh of his palm. His other hand grasped my neck, wrapping around the fragile bones and squeezing just enough to send a rush throughout my body.
"Come for me and come for me right fucking now."
Everything felt so wrong, yet every fiber of my being wanted more. The constant battle raging between what I should and what I wanted had been enough to nearly break me. It felt like heaven with him holding me so close; his fingers against me were like magic. He hadn't touched between my legs or even gone near my breast; just the weight of his body pressing against me and his sweet scent was enough to have me riving in a different kind of pleasure. With one hard push against his body, I fell over the edge, crying into his palm as I came hard underneath him.
"Shit," Edward mumbled into my ear, feeling me trembling against him. "Jesus." He whispered as I held onto him.
"Don't move," he mumbled breathlessly.
I held him in place, ignoring the way the surface of the sink dug uncomfortably into my backside. It was temporaryāonly a few minutes at most before we could separate and I could begin to mourn the loss of the connection.
"I can't stop," I whispered, not feeling any sense of control over my body.
"Believe me, I know the feeling," Edward murmured.
He tried to pull away, his forehead pressed against mine, but I held tight, unable to hide the panic that broke through.
"Did I just...?"
I didn't need the words to realize the full extent of the effect of Edward's effect on me. Every time he'd touched me, it was as if all reason, all sanity, and all control left my body, leaving me reeling in the frenzy of the aftermath. Yet the burning question remained, and as Edward remained eerily silent, I dared to speak again, voicing the concern that plagued my mind.
"Please tell me you didn't..." I paused, my voice failing, and waited for some answer.
"Make you come?" His voice was strained, far too serious as his eyes darkened, stormy pools in the semi-darkness. "You know I did."
My whole body stiffened at his words. One second of weakness, one lapse of judgment had proven disastrous and proved how incapable I was of resisting Edward's skill and how easily I had fallen prey to his machinations. My half brother was responsible for giving me my first ever orgasm and by merely pressing his body against mine. He hadn't even kissed me, let alone touched me. Still feeling the tremors radiating through my body, I slowly drifted off, feeling entirely emotionally and physically exhausted.
"Who would've thought getting you off would've been so easy?" he teased.
"Shut up"
"Admit it. You just lost the game, and next time," Edward brought his forehead against mine. "It's my turn." He leaned close, bringing his lips to rest inches away from mine. "And you have no fucking idea what you just signed up for."
With that, Edward unlocked the bathroom door, letting light shine inside from the cabin on the opposite side. He didn't look at me; he shut the door behind him, leaving me alone in the dark.
I locked the door, and immediately, with my heart racing against my chest, I brought my hand between my legs and checked for dampness. I was shocked to find I was soaking wet; between my legs and around the tops of my thighs were just as moist and sensitive to touch.
Next time it was his turn? What the hell did Edward have in store for me in Vegas?
I switched on the bathroom light before I slid down off the sink counter; my knees immediately went out from beneath me, and I slammed my feet and hands against the surface of the counter before I could hit the floor. My muscles trembled uncontrollably, and I was barely able to stand. My legs were weak, and I had no idea how long I'd be able to remain upright. As I stood in front of the mirror, I stared at my reflection. My hair was a complete mess, my makeup was smudged, and my clothes were wrinkled.
"Oh God," I cursed to myself as I brought my hands to my face in shame.
Edward had caused this; he had done this to me, and he would be back to claim what he wanted. The thought excited me as much as it frightened me. Would he want sex? Would he want me? I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts as I turned on the water to the sink. What happened was sick! He was my half brother; we couldn't do those things to each other; I couldn't want him like that. He was just so good at teasing me and about all the things I was so desperately grappling to hide. I grabbed some toilet paper and cleaned up my make-up before using my fingers to brush and smooth out my hair. I tucked my hands under my dress and gripped the waistline of my thongs, pulling them down my legs. My pants were soaked with arousal, and I felt disgusted with myself for getting so excited.
I balled them up and shoved them into the toilet trash before filling the bin with ribbed up toilet paper as I had nowhere else to hide them and couldn't risk carrying them out with me to the cabin. I smoothed my hands down my dress, making sure it wasn't wrinkled, before opening the bathroom door and stepping back out into the main cabin. I peaked my head around the corner, scanning the area for Edward. I was relieved to find him sitting next to Carlisle, asleep in their seats. The lights had been dimmed in the cabin, and all was calm and quiet.
I slowly returned to the cabin, being as quiet as possible, trying not to disturb anyone. I slid back down into my seat, confident that what had transpired in the bathroom would forever be our secret. All the cabin crew were in the front of the plane, clearing away the dishes, and those who weren't were sliding the window blinds closed to create the perfect sleeping conditions. I buckled my seatbelt and leaned back in my chair, pulling the blanket up over my legs and resting my head against the pillow. I felt exhausted, not just from what Edward had done to me but also because I'd been awake since early morning; I'd been through so much and had very little sleep. What had happened was a mistake and never to be repeated. Edward was convinced he could ruin my life and that I wanted him to take my virginity, but he was wrong. I was just very confused and going through something I didn't understand but was confident he was not the answer to my problems. Edward was instead the problem, and I needed to keep my distance from him at all costs.
It was hard enough to fight my attraction to him without knowing what he could do to my body. It was too tempting, and now that I had firsthand experience, Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel his hands on meāfeel that rush of excitement coursing through me. I'd had my first orgasm, and it was all because of him, of his arrogance and his unique touch that had me trembling at the thought even now. I sighed as I snuggled into my pillow, letting my eyes drift closed as I tried to sleep. I couldn't though. All I could think about was what awaited me on this trip and if I'd have the strength to say no to my desires.
How could he claim all of this was one-sided if he was able to make me cum so easily? My thoughts were jumbled; everything seemed like a mess, and the only thing that came to mind was the need to get some sleep. If I could just shut off my thoughts, I would be fine. But it seemed like the second he had gotten out of jail, since the moment he passed those gates, he'd held me in the palm of his hand. I hated how he made me feel weak and helpless, but it was hard to deny that in many ways I felt safe and cared for as well. He was dangerous and had proven that more than once, yet there was also something about him that made me want to trust him.
No, I had to gain back control. I had to rest now and wake up focused and with a better plan because the clock was already ticking down to Vegas.
As I gradually emerged from the haze of sleep, a gentle yet firm touch rested upon my shoulder. My eyes fluttered open to reveal Taylor standing above me. His presence was unmistakable, marked by the dark sunglasses perched confidently on his nose, the sleek earpiece nestled discreetly in his ear, and the impeccably tailored black suit that spoke volumes of his unwavering professionalism. It was hardly a surprise to see him here; after all, Carlisle would never venture forth without his vigilant head of security by his side. Taylor's composed demeanor suggested that he was ever-ready, prepared to navigate any situation with the precision of a master chess player. His very aura seemed to speak of readiness and assurance, offering a sense of both protection and inevitability.
"Miss Cullen, we're here."
I jolted upright in my seat, my heart pounding as I took in the eerily quiet cabin, now devoid of any passengers. The once deafening roar of the engines had softened to a gentle hum, signaling our arrival. My eyes drifted to the oval window, and I caught a glimpse of the sleek white Hummer limousine waiting patiently on the tarmac, its polished exterior gleaming under the airport lights. I gently dabbed beneath my eyes, mindful not to smudge my carefully applied eyeliner. Rising from my seat, Taylor gracefully draped my coat over my shoulders, his touch as light as a whisper. With an elegant nod, he collected my clutch, cradling it with care, and we made our way down the aisle, each step echoing softly in the serene silence of the cabin.
This was it. We were in Vegas.
When I stepped towards the plane door, I stopped cold, seeing Edward outside on the tarmac in a fresh suit. Why had he changed? The thought that my perfume might have lingered on his clothes and that he had needed to wash me away had my insides twisting with anger. He glanced at me as I got off the plane, but he remained engaged in his conversation with our father, who was angry about something, but what else was new? Taylor assisted me into the back of the car and remained a true gentleman throughout, looking away as I adjusted my dress around my thighs as I settled into my seat.
"Thank you, Taylor."
Taylor was about to close the door when a hand shot out hauling his efforts. Edward didn't even need to tell Taylor to leave; I'd never seen Taylor move without orders until that second.
"You ready for this?" Edward asked.
"I'm not going to be your whore." I told him sternly.
"Say that a little louder. I don't think our father heard you."
Edward smirked at me as he climbed into the car and shut the door behind him, sliding down next to me.
"I meant what I said back on the plane; it's my turn, and you've been warned." Edward leaned in, his voice a shadowy caress as he murmured softly into my ear.
Edward's hand slid over my knee as he turned his attention to the window.
"You should have worn something warmer; it's freezing here."
I felt myself relax under his touch, though I tried not to let it show. I was determined to ignore him and remain focused on my task. I just had to find a way to resist him.
"I'm fine," I replied as coldly as the current temperature.
"Sure you are."
I could feel his eyes on me, but I ignored him, choosing instead to focus on just about anything but the feeling of his hand touching my knee.
"What are you doing?" I demanded as he slid his hand up the inside of my thigh.
"You're not wearing pants." Edward stated his tone surprised.
"Yes, I am," I argued as I tried to shove his hand away.
Edward pulled his hand back and grabbed my arm. He slid me across the seat closer to him.
"I'm never wrong," Edward whispered, his hand once again resting on my bare leg. "So wet for your own brother, you took them off in the bathroom, didn't you? Did you play with yourself?"
My face flushed red at his words as my body reacted to his touch. I felt the familiar heat between my legs, and as much as I hated him at that moment, I couldn't stop the ache to have his hands on me.
"No, I doubt you've ever done that." Edward continued with a chuckle. "I bet you've never even touched yourself."
"Shut up!" I demanded as I tried to wiggle away from his grasp, but Edward held onto me tightly.
"Did you like how I made you come in the bathroom?" Edward asked, his hand once again sliding up my leg.
"Please," I pleaded, "Edward, please don't."
I couldn't take it anymore; I couldn't fight it anymore. I was ready to give in, to let him do whatever he wanted to me if it meant having his hands on me again. It felt like an addiction; I needed to feel his touch, his hands all over me.
"Fine." Edward released me and slid away from me on the seat. I was still trying to catch my breath as I looked up to see him staring at me.
"Fine?" I echoed, my voice tinged with disbelief and surprise.
"For now."
What did that mean? Was Edward giving up? If so, then why did I feel so disappointed?
I stared at him, "What the hell have you got planned for this weekend?"
"What makes you think I have something planned?" Edward asked me with a smirk.
"Don't bullshit me, Edward. You always have something up your sleeve."
"And if I did, why would I tell you of all people?"
"Because I'm-"
"You're what?" Edward cut me off.
"I'm your sister."
"Exactly."
I rolled my eyes and turned my head to stare out the window.
"You might have the Cullen name Isabella, but that's all you have."
I met his gaze, trying to force back my threatening tears.
"Vegas is about business, business for which you have no part of, no say." He shook his head at me. "You're nothing to this family."
"Shut up."
"What you are, is the thing threatening to destroy it?" Edward reached for the door handle and yanked it open. "And distract me," he said as he shot out of the car like a bullet before slamming the door shut behind him.
I felt sick to my stomach. The last thing I needed was Edward being angry with me, but he had done little to ease my worries or anxiety over the last few hours. I had no idea what to expect once we arrived in Vegas, but I knew one thing for certaināit wasn't going to be good. In just under thirty seconds, he'd crushed my confidence all over again. He knew the damage he was inflicting, and he did it anyway. His words hurt more than I wanted them to, and I hated him for that. I was struggling enough to keep my emotions under control, and this certainly wasn't helping.
If he wanted to mess with me, then I had to keep fighting him at every turn. As my heart pounded like a relentless drum in my chest, I reached for the car phone, feeling the cool plastic against my fingertips. Every movement felt deliberate, calculated. I wasn't about to make a misstep when so much was at stake. Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number for Black & Gold magazine, my mind racing with the repercussions of this call. I knew better than to use my own phone; Edward was always watching, always one step ahead. The line rang, each tone echoing louder in my ear, the anticipation almost suffocating.
"Black and Gold magazine, how can I help you?" The voice on the other end was professional, yet indifferent, a reminder of the countless stories they fielded each day.
"Who do I speak to if I've got information on celebrities?" I asked, my voice steady, concealing the turmoil beneath.
"Yeah, we get a thousand of these calls a day, so email us; our department admin email addresses are made available on our website."
The response was dismissive, but I pressed on.
"I'm calling about the Cullen family, the ones who just landed in Las Vegas." I hoped the mention of their name would spark interest.
The man chuckled, a sound that dripped with skepticism. "We get those calls all the time too."
I leaned forward "Carlisle and Edward Cullen will be checking in to Caesars Palace in less than an hour." I bit my lower lip, the weight of my next words heavy with consequence. "My sources say it's the reunion; apparently, the whole family is going to be there."
"Who is your source?" The question shot back at me, challenging my credibility.
"Since when is that important?" I retorted, a twinge of irritation slipping into my tone.
"Why should I believe you?"
I paused, letting the silence stretch between us, thick with unspoken truths. "What have you got to lose?" I finally asked, before abruptly ending the call.
As I sat back, the enormity of my actions settled over me like a dark cloud. I had done it, the worst possible thing. I had tipped the press. The weekend starts right here and now, and there was no turning back.
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