The market of Volterra buzzed with life, children laughed in the park, and merchants called out their wares. It was an ordinary scene—a moment of respite from the cold, austere halls of the Volturi palace. For Bella, stepping outside the protective embrace of Volterra's walls after three long weeks was a treasure she cherished.
She skipped lightly along the cobblestone streets, her backpack bouncing with every hop. Wearing a pair of denim jumper pants over a striped shirt, she beamed at the children playing in the park. Gianna, ever watchful, smiled indulgently at the little hybrid.
"Five more minutes, Isabella," Gianna called softly.
Bella grinned. "Okay, Gianna!" she chirped, waving before darting off to a small group of children playing tag.
Despite her radiant cheer, the moment was bittersweet for Gianna. She knew how confined Bella's life had become, even if it was necessary. Aro's constant instructions about her safety weighed heavily on Gianna as much as Bella herself. Yet, seeing the girl laugh, however fleetingly, made the risk worth it.
They soon ventured to the bustling market. Bella's eyes sparkled as she caught sight of a familiar pastry stand. "Gianna, look!" she squealed, tugging at the woman's arm. "Can I have one? Pleeease?"
Gianna chuckled, fishing out some coins. "Of course, Isabella. Wait here; I'll grab one for you."
As Gianna strode to the stall, Bella stood by the edge of the market, humming softly. The scent of fresh bread and spices swirled in the air, mingling with the chatter of merchants and buyers.
"Excuse me, young lady."
Bella turned to see an old man standing a few steps away. His frame was bent with age, his face lined with deep wrinkles that softened around his kind smile.
"You're such an adorable little one," he said warmly, his voice carrying a distinct accent she couldn't place. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box about the size of the apple she had eaten that morning. "I saw this and thought you might like it. A little surprise, just for you."
Bella hesitated for a moment, then beamed. "Thank you! But I have to wait until I get home to open it?"
"Yes," the old man said firmly, nodding. "For the best surprise, you'll have to open it when you're safe at home."
She giggled and carefully slid the box into her backpack. "I promise I'll wait!"
As Gianna returned with Bella's pastry, the child waved eagerly. "Can we go home now?"
Gianna tilted her head, amused by the shift in mood. "But you wanted to stay a little longer?"
Bella grinned, holding her pastry close. "I really want to go to the garden! Can we please?"
"Alright," Gianna said, smiling as they began their walk back to the car.
Back at the palace, Bella skipped toward the courtyard, excitement bubbling in her chest. She found a quiet corner near the fountain, sunlight glinting off its crystal-clear water. Carefully setting her backpack down, she retrieved the small box.
Her little hands worked to untie the ribbon and lift the lid. But as the contents came into view, her smile shattered.
Staring back at her was the severed head of a cat. Its fur was eerily familiar, a soft gray with cream markings, resembling her own beloved pet, Luna.
Bella screamed, her tiny body trembling violently as she dropped the box. She stumbled backward, clutching at her chest as sobs wracked her frame.
"What… why…" she cried between gasps, her voice cracking with fear and confusion.
Alec, who had been stationed nearby, blurred to her side in an instant. "Isabella?" he said sharply, his crimson eyes scanning her tear-streaked face. Then his gaze dropped to the box—and his own face darkened with rage.
Aro and Sulpicia arrived mere seconds later, having heard the commotion. Seeing his daughter sobbing on the ground tore something inside Aro that hadn't stirred for centuries.
"Bella!" he called softly yet urgently, kneeling beside her. Sulpicia was at her other side, her hands hovering over her child as if unsure how to soothe her.
"Daddy!" Bella wailed, clutching at his robe. Her tiny hands gripped the fabric like a lifeline. "I—it's not Luna, right? They didn't—didn't hurt Luna?"
"No, my darling, no," Aro reassured her, wrapping his arms around her shivering form. "Luna is safe; she is perfectly safe. This… this is a cruel trick, but they did not touch your precious Luna. I swear it to you."
Sulpicia kissed Bella's hair, her voice low and steady. "You are safe, my love. No one will ever harm you or Luna. Do you hear me?"
Bella nodded weakly, though her tears continued to fall. Her small body trembled in Aro's arms, and he gently rocked her back and forth, his soothing voice never faltering.
Aro straightened, Bella still clinging to him. He turned to Alec, his face colder than the marble walls around them.
"Take Bella to Sulpicia's chamber," he ordered softly, his voice a deadly whisper. "Keep her there, and ensure she is not left alone for even a moment."
Alec nodded and carefully lifted the trembling child from Aro's arms. Sulpicia rose with them, her expression wrought with worry and anger.
As they left, Caius and Marcus appeared, their presence heralded by the steady thrum of their footsteps. Caius took one look at the scene—the abandoned box, Aro's haunted expression—and his jaw tightened.
"What has happened now?" Caius demanded.
Aro's crimson eyes burned with restrained fury. "They have shown their hand," he said darkly. "A box delivered to my child—a taunt."
Caius moved closer, glancing at the remains within the box. His lips twisted into a snarl. "This goes too far. This is not a warning—it's a declaration of war."
"They really know about her, they even know if her pet," Marcus murmured, his quiet voice laced with something that might have been regret.
Caius's fists clenched as he stared at the bloodstained box, his icy exterior cracking just enough to betray the storm of emotions roiling beneath. His voice, sharp and commanding as always, softened in its intensity, revealing an unusual hint of worry.
"Aro," he said, his tone lower but no less firm, "this cannot continue. This is beyond games. They've threatened what you hold most dear. We both know what must be done."
Aro stood silent, his crimson eyes fixed on the closed box in his hand. The room felt colder as his thoughts swirled, each one heavier than the last.
"Enough deliberation, enough hesitation," Caius pressed, his usual sharpness laced with something close to frustration—but there was also a flicker of genuine concern in his gaze. "We must bring Edward back. If there is even a chance he can help us uncover who is behind this…" Caius paused, then added quietly, "This is for Bella's safety."
At the mention of Bella, Aro's expression wavered, though only slightly. Caius took a slow breath, reigning in his anger before his next words. "Whether you like it or not, we need his ability to discern the truth. If he refuses? I swear I'll handle him myself. But," he added quickly, meeting Aro's gaze, "I'd rather not have to."
The room was silent save for the soft crackle of the torches lining the walls. Aro turned the box over in his hands, his thumb brushing over the fine grain of its lid. Finally, he closed it, as if sealing away the enormity of his thoughts.
He looked up, his gaze meeting Caius's. For a moment, neither spoke, but something unspoken passed between them—Aro recognized the rare and genuine concern buried beneath Caius's calculated fury.
"I will consider it," Aro said, his voice measured, though his expression had darkened further. He turned on his heel and walked toward the council chamber. The faint echo of his retreating footsteps hung in the air.
Caius remained behind, his sharp features still carved with tension as he glanced toward the hall leading to Sulpicia's quarters, where Bella was undoubtedly still frightened. His grip on his emotions tightened. Whoever had dared to terrify the child in such a way would soon learn there were consequences far more chilling than death.
Poor Bella. I'm currently on a vacation you guys.