Married to the Mob

Chapter Twenty-Seven

So, none of this is mine. I wrote the first chapter for a contest and now, I'm expanding it. What I own ... a condo and too many books. What I don't ... Twilight and all its characters.

Still with me? You ready for Mobward and Dolce to be reunited? Also, some delicious carnage? Another warning with this one. Just saying ...

*Violence Warning*
*Angst Warning*

Chapter Twenty-Seven

BPOV

"Stephan, Royce and Royce's lieutenant, Vladimir, they love to torture. They love to hear their victims scream," Marcus said, taking Rosalie's hand. She trembled, tears falling down her cheeks. "They love to leave lasting marks on their victims, too."

"So, they're torturing my husband?" I snarled. "And you're doing nothing about it?"

"I'm here, little girl," Marcus snapped.

"Do. Not. Speak. To. My. Daughter. That. Way," Carlisle growled. "Though, she has a point. Why wait this long? You said there is a timeline."

"I had to make arrangements for our travel," Marcus answered. "We're leaving the country. I'm invoking my dual citizenship and leaving the states. I'm moving back to Italy where I can stay at the vineyard owned by my family. It's quiet, away from people and a good place for Rosalie to heal from her injuries. Where she can feel safe." He stood up and handed me a key. "This is to the farm house. I've already given the address to Esme. You must hurry. At midnight, your husband will be killed and they will take the Consortium by force."

"It's already seven. DeKalb is two hours away," Jacob hissed. "We don't have much time to assemble an army."

"With the secluded location, the farm is not heavily fortified. The team you have here will be enough, but do not leave any survivors and bring down those animals, those monsters," Marcus said. He stood up, smoothing his coat. He held out his hand to Carlisle, who took it, shaking it gruffly. He turned to me, kissing my cheeks and reaching into his pocket. "A wedding present for you and your husband, dear Isabella. I wish you and your family happiness." He turned on his heel, leaving with Rosalie and his wife.

When the door closed, Carlisle looked to Alice. "We need you, Dr. Whitlock," he said. "If he's bad off, we're going to need your medical expertise." He looked at me. "Dress her similarly and be ready to go in ten."

"Armed, sir?" Jasper asked.

"No," Alice said. "I'll need to carry my bag."

"But, you'll be armed," Carlisle said. "Go!" We went upstairs and she put on a pair of black pants, a black Henley and a bullet-proof vest. Jasper gave her a knife and one gun before declaring us ready to go. Just as we were heading out to the cars, Carlisle stopped me. He handed me the signet ring. "You give this back to my son, Isabella. Put it where it belongs."

"Are you not coming?" I asked.

"I am, but your job is to save him," he said, his eyes filling with tears. "Bring him back."

"I will, Carlisle," I nodded.

He blinked and the tears dissipated. He hugged me, kissing my forehead before turning to head out to the car. With a gruff order, "Let's go!" we pulled out and made our way to DeKalb.

I slipped the ring onto my thumb, saying a prayer. "I'm coming, Edward. I love you," I whispered. "Vengeance will be ours, baby. I promise you."