Thank you to Mel!

CHAPTER SEVEN

Bella

"If you can't beat them, join them."

― Jim Henson

There was a commotion throughout the room the moment the words left Charlie's mouth. People burst into whispers amongst themselves, and across the room, I saw Rosalie's eyes bug in shock.

"I object," someone shouted. I turned to see who was speaking, but it was impossible to tell. Everyone was speaking right now.

"Object to what?" Charlie asked lazily, sitting back down. "Her DNA confirms her as my daughter."

The whispering between people was growing more and more severe, and I realized that most of the Sixteen had probably been waiting for Charlie to die childless so that the Bourgault estate could go through the same dissection process as the Moroni estate.

With a viable heir, suddenly Charlie's assets were tied up for at least another generation.

Charlie let the whispering and complaints go on for a moment before he lifted his hand. "Excuse me. I do believe this session is not to discuss heirs," he reminded the chamber. His eyes cast to the moderator, who nodded his head.

"Yes, of course. Mr. Bourgault is correct. Order in the chambers, please." He tapped his baton against the gong in a couple of quick, sharp movements and the room drew silent again. "We have gathered here today to discuss the fate of the Moroni estate." He cleared his throat. "As you all know, the last of the Moroni line died twenty-five years ago," he said, a slight scowl making his eyebrows furrow. "Under normal conditions, the estate must not be divided for a period of thirty years, but certain circumstances have called for an expedition of that timeline." He paused, his eyebrows dipping slightly before he continued. "All those who object to this exception, please voice your nays now." The moderator looked around the room, waiting for someone to speak up, but no one did. After a minute, he nodded. "Very well. The division of the Moroni estate will now commence. The premises will be sealed until this business is concluded."

I frowned, glancing at Charlie. "What does that mean?"

He looked at me in mild surprise. "It's difficult gathering us all in one place," he said, motioning around the room. "And business must be conducted with each family present. So they seal the island until we are finished working everything out," he explained.

"So we could be here for a few days?" I asked.

Charlie shrugged. "It could go weeks if it gets truly nasty." The smile on his face looked like he hoped it would get nasty.

I swallowed hard and looked away from him. I thought we'd be here a few hours then go back along our merry way. How the hell was I supposed to stay amongst these sharks for potentially weeks without revealing everything I desperately needed kept hidden?

My eyes landed on Edward, who was listening to Carlisle with a scowl deep on his face, and I fought back a wince.

How would Edward survive his parents that long?

"The first asset for discussion is the country of Moldova," the moderator said, drawing my attention back to him. "Those wishing to place a bid, please do so in the next ten minutes."

I frowned, looking at Charlie. "They are auctioning countries?"

Charlie shrugged. "We, pet," he corrected. "And yes, mostly. There are a few other assets the Moronis own that are not countries, but that's what drives most of these meetings. We come to carve the world into new shapes for ourselves."

I shook my head, still baffled by the idea of owning a country no matter how much I learned about the process. "Who would buy Moldova?"

Charlie surprised me by flashing me a smile. "You're asking all the right questions, Pet. Well done." He chuckled to himself before leaning slightly toward me. When I didn't pull away, he gestured with his head across the room. "Emily Wentworth," he said, pointing at a very young looking woman standing completely alone in her section. "Her father just passed, making her the head of the family. The Wentworths have been declining recently, producing less offspring and making smaller and smaller political moves. This is her first session." He smiled a little. "She's frightfully young, younger than even you, Pet, but she's smart. She's not going to go for the bigger countries where she'll be bulldozed out of the way. She'll strong-arm for as many small pieces of the pie as she can get." Charlie seemed pleased with his assessment of Emily, like a proud parent watching their child go off to college. "It'll be interesting to see what she does with it. Moldova has been negatively trending lately, but you know …" He gestured outside.

"What?"

Charlie looked at me. "The Wentworths aren't strong enough to have any influence over weather patterns, so they are at the mercy of the elements, as they say."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Charlie's eyebrows furrowed, as if he was suddenly concerned about why I wasn't keeping up with him. "If you can't control the weather, the crops don't grow. Difficult thing for the GDP of a country who relies mostly on agriculture."

I scowled. "But no one can control the weather," I argued quietly.

"No?" Charlie asked, arching a brow at me. He didn't say anything else, but he didn't have to. Somehow, some stupid, impossible way, this maniac was controlling the weather, at least somewhere in the world.

How? How was it possible for him to have this much power? And why did it intrigue me so much?

I turned away from him, not wanting for my face to give any of my thoughts away. Across the room, one family was placing their offer for Moldova. I set my gaze on Emily, who was watching the chamber with a calculating look on her young face. Had she been at the Academy with me? Had her whole life been about getting to this moment?

Opposite us, Carlisle and Esme were relaxed and leaning back much like Charlie was. This was too beneath the big sharks.

If an entire country wasn't good enough, what could they possibly be waiting for?

There were small scraping sounds, and I twisted around, surprised to see a man in a suit approaching our section from the back of the room. It was then that I realized that behind us was a set of doors that looked like they led out to a corridor.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bourgault," the man said, dipping into a deep bow.

"What is it?" Charlie asked, his voice flat and impatient.

The man held up a sealed envelope on a silver tray and Charlie snatched it, ripping it open while the man backed away.

Charlie read over the page, a scowl forming on his face.

"What is it?" I asked before I could think better of it.

Charlie lowered the page to look at me. "It seems that in order to play with the big dogs, Pet, you'll be required to prove your genetic lineage." Charlie shook his head, looking annoyed.

"What does that entail?" I asked, glancing between Charlie and the man at the back of our booth.

"Crowley here will take you to our genetics lab. You'll give a small sample and it will be logged officially. Once you are verified, you'll be able to make any deal you like."

I frowned. "You want me to negotiate for parts of the Moroni estate?"

Charlie grinned. "Of course, Pet. All of this is for you."

…

Edward

…

I had to give my wife credit. Bella might not be certain of what was going on specifically, but she looked just as regal and imperious as her father sitting in the booth. Despite the fact that we were all on the same physical level, both of them seemed to have a way of looking down on everyone else.

I wasn't surprised at the negative outburst from most of the Sixteen families when Charlie dropped the bomb about Bella being his daughter. I knew it had been on most people's minds that Charlie was without an heir, and unable to produce offspring anymore, his entire estate would be forced into auction. With his death, the entire world would have changed.

I hadn't been aware of Charlie's infertility until my parents had filled me in in Tokyo. There had been a terrible accident when my parents and Charlie were all younger. No one would tell me what it was specifically, but it sounded like it had been bad.

It was a wonder that Bella was ever born.

Around the room, a few of the lower families were duking it out for Moldova, so I let my mind wander. My parents wouldn't care until some of the bigger assets were up for bid.

My eyes flickered to Bella, and I sat up in my chair when I saw her stand and follow a man in a suit out the back door of the booth. What was she doing? Was she okay?

Before I could stop myself, I stood and headed for our own door.

"Edward?"

I glanced back at my parents who were watching me in bewilderment.

"Bathroom," I told them, not stopping long enough to hear a response from them. I slipped through the doors into the circular corridor that lined the upper parts of the chamber room and ran along the passageway until I was near the Bourgault door. Bella wasn't there so I pressed on, hoping I'd be able to find her.

Eventually, I could hear Bella's voice coming from a connecting corridor. I turned down it to see her walking with the man in the suit down a flight of stairs.

"Bella!" I called before I could stop myself.

Bella spun around, her eyes wide. "What are you doing?" she hissed as I ran at her.

"Are you okay?" I asked, aware that the man was probably eavesdropping on us.

"I'm fine," Bella said, shaking her head. "I just have to do a DNA test so that I can participate in the negotiations and stuff."

I blinked, surprised. Did she want to be a part of it? I couldn't stand this whole meeting and it had only just started.

"Edward, I think you should go back and join your parents," she said through clenched teeth. "I'll be fine."

It had never been my instinct to look out for the well-being of others. I'd never been modeled that, never even knew it was a thought people had until I'd met Bella.

It was a shockingly unproductive response. How did anyone get anything done when they were busy worrying about anyone but themselves?

Bella's face softened ever so slightly. "Go," she whispered. "I'll be okay."

I let out a breath and nodded. "I'll see you back out there," I said quietly. I wanted to reach out to her, to take her hand in mine or something.

I wanted her to know that I cared what happened to her, even if I couldn't say the words out loud at the moment.

But the attendant was watching us openly now, and I didn't want to give him any more fodder for gossip than I was already providing.

With a deep breath, I inclined my head then shifted my gaze to the man watching us. "Send someone to bring drinks," I snapped, my voice hardening. "It shouldn't be this difficult to get service in this goddamn place."

The attendant's eyes widened and he nodded, immediately bringing a hand up to his ear to speak into a headset. I shot Bella one last glance, and when I saw her smirking slightly, I let out a breath and turned away from her, heading back to my parents.

…

Bella

…

After Edward left, I was brought into a windowless room where a nurse dressed in white took a blood sample. She said absolutely nothing to me, and when she was done, the attendant announced he would bring me back to Charlie.

All the fucking dramatics over a vial of blood.

It seemed like I hadn't missed much by the time I was settling back into my seat beside Charlie. The same people were arguing over landholdings, and Charlie was busy leaning back in his chair, a notebook in front of him that he was doodling in. I watched him curiously. The picture he painted of himself was far less nefarious and more innocent than I'd ever thought of him as.

"How did it go, Pet?" Charlie asked.

I glanced at him and shrugged. "Fine," I said quietly. "What if the blood test proves I'm not your child?" I asked. It had crossed my mind before. Charlie said he'd had a baby that disappeared from his life for a number of years. How could he be certain that was me?

Charlie gave me an exasperated look, like he was over my childish hopes of not being his daughter.

"The Livingstons have just thrown Belize into the fray," Charlie said, motioning to a group a quarter room away from us. I glanced at them curiously. It was clear they were father and son. They looked nearly identical apart from the obvious age gap between them. The elder man had salt and pepper hair, with a long hooked nose and deep-set eyes. His son had the same features, though his hair was still purely brown. They both wore spectacles and kept glancing down at papers in front of them as they spoke.

"Any moment now, they will send me a message," Charlie said, his voice low as he leaned toward me. "They will ask for my support on their acquisition of Moldova."

I frowned at him. "Why would it matter what you think?"

Charlie smirked, all cockiness. "Because, Pet, my opinion is the only one that matters." He looked at me and grinned. "At least, that is until the day you take my place." He motioned vaguely around the room. "One day, Pet, the entire world will be beneath your feet and everyone will be begging for your approval." His voice was satisfied as he spoke, and I couldn't help a flash of something going down my spine. Whether it was fear or anticipation, I wasn't quite sure.

"I don't want anyone beneath my feet," I said instead.

Charlie snorted. "Liar."

I glanced at him, but he wasn't even looking at me. His eyes moved around the room, his gaze predatory as he assessed its inhabitants. He genuinely thought he was above them all, that for some insane reason, his life mattered more than anyone else on this planet.

"Why is the estate being divided early?" I asked.

Charlie looked at me. "The Moronis were the most powerful family in the Sixteen before they died off," he said, a slight frown creasing his brow. "More powerful than dare I say even me." He did not seem to enjoy saying those words based on the sneer his lip was curling into. "Usually the families who die out don't have so much power. There are typically signs of their decline." He paused and motioned across the room toward Emily. "When the Moronis died, they were on top of the food chain. They left a substantial amount of wealth and assets to divide and care for. We've waited as long as possible, but without the Moronis there to control their territories, the church is beginning to move in against them. If we don't act swiftly, we could lose our upper hand."

I considered his political strategies for a moment as I let my gaze wander around the room again. It made sense, I suppose, in some strange horrible way.

"How did the Moronis die?" I asked, turning to look at him again.

Charlie flashed me a tight smile. "It's a great big mystery. Unsolved to this day."

That was clearly a lie, or at least, part of one. I had a gut feeling that very few things in this world were mysteries to Charlie Bourgault.

"Were they killed?" I asked.

Charlie's eyes widened, and he looked to be genuinely surprised by my question. "It's strictly forbidden for any of us to kill another head of house," he said, shaking his head. "And the heirs are strictly forbidden from killing other potential heirs. It's all part of our code of conduct set out in the eighteen hundreds."

I shook my head. "Hundreds of years after the Sixteen families first began," I pointed out.

Charlie pressed on, ignoring me. "The repercussions of killing one another are severe. We're stripped of everything and cast out forever."

My eyes widened, and I turned to glare at Rosalie Hale. "What about attempted murder?" I couldn't confirm that she was part of the group that buried me, or even behind them, but there was something about the hate in her eyes that made me question everything. For some reason, Rosalie hated me, even though we'd spent no significant time together before.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie look at me, so I turned to meet his gaze.

"Only if it is reported can there be action taken."

I thought about it. "And if it's unreported?"

Charlie grinned like the true psychopath he was. "Then any retribution that is taken must be very carefully executed and impossible to trace back." It was a green light. I didn't know if he knew what had happened to me at school, but whether he was aware or not, there was something Charlie clearly did understand—revenge.

I looked away from him, my heart pounding as I thought of all the possibilities that left me. I could crack Rosalie Hale's world apart, break her into a hundred million pieces that not even the crows would want. I could be her end.I just had to decide how to do it.

I blinked and shook my head, reminding myself that I actually had no proof she'd been behind any of the events that night. As far as I knew, Rosalie was hateful toward everyone.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady the thrumming of my heartbeat that was pulsing in my ears.

You're not a monster, you're not Charlie. Do not act like him, I reminded myself.

I let my breath out slowly and tried to center myself, shaking away fantasies of revenge.

Across the room, I saw Edward shift in his chair and my gaze flew to him. He looked concerned and miserable sitting between his parents. He really, truly hated all of this stuff. Despite the fact that he'd been born in this world, I couldn't help but think he really wasn't cut out for this life. On the other hand, it made me wonder what was wrong with me that I apparently was so well suited for it.

Charlie and I didn't speak again until we paused for dinner. Moldova had been worked out, and now discussions had moved onto some tech company I'd never heard of when we paused negotiations.

Charlie led me out of the door behind us and through the long sweeping corridor until we reached another hallway that led back to the foyer. "Dinner is usually a social event," Charlie told me. "But we must dress for it first." He motioned me to follow and I let out a tight breath before hurrying after him. We climbed into a glass elevator as a few other families emerged in the lobby.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

Charlie glanced at me. "To change. Unfortunately, you won't be rooming with your husband tonight, but I'm sure you'll both manage to survive one night apart." His tone was mocking, and I rolled my eyes at him, trying to hide how creeped out I was when he talked about Edward. It was in moments like this that I couldn't help remembering what Charlie had done to us on his yacht.

We stepped out of the elevator on the top floor and Charlie brought me to a set of double doors that he opened with a white keycard.

"This is our home until the Moroni business is taken care of," he said, gesturing inside as the doors shut behind me.

"I'm not staying with you," I argued as I took in the foyer. The apartment was massive and gleaming black and white and gold. Everything about it was so Charlie.

"It's nonnegotiable," he said, shaking his head. "Sorry, Pet, I don't make the rules."

The way he said it made me wonder if he did in fact do just that.

He moved across the room to a large black and gold bar.

"Drink?" he asked over his shoulder.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," I said, shaking my head.

Charlie looked at me in surprise. "What?"

"The last time you gave me a drink it was roofied. You really think I'll trust anything you give me ever again?"

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Pet, I was only trying to loosen the two of you up. How do you possibly expect to have an heir if you don't have sex with your husband?"

I opened my mouth, but absolutely nothing would come out, I was so dumbstruck.

Charlie was happily pouring himself a drink when I finally shook my head and managed to move from my spot. "I'm not having children."

"Of course you are," Charlie said. "You have to." He spoke so casually, as if it was a guarantee in life, like the sun rising and setting each day.

"No," I said firmly. "I won't bring a child into this madness."

Charlie finally looked up at me. "Pet, you don't have to bring any children into this," he said, shaking his head. "You only need an heir."

What was I not getting? Or was it Charlie? Did he think of heirs as non-human? More assets to place and bargain with as if they were nothing more than a company or a country?

How was he so cold?

"If you won't take a drink, at least go get changed," he ordered. "We can't be late for dinner."

He motioned down a long hallway to my right where a maid was dressed in black, waiting to escort me. I shook my head but turned from him and nodded to the maid who motioned down the hall. She led me to a room with a large white bed and black marble floors, just as the rest of the apartment had. One entire wall was made up of glass, showing the endless landscape outside.

"Your closet is here, ma'am," the maid said, sliding open a large door opposite of the windows. She gestured inside. "You'll find everything you need here. If you need assistance with dressing, please press the button beside the light switch." She pointed out the panel she was speaking about and I nodded.

"Thank you."

She dipped her head in a shallow bow before scurrying out of the room.

I let out a long breath and stepped into the closet. If I was going to be stuck here for an indeterminate amount of time, I might as well look the part.