Sitting on the couch in Marcus’s condo, Edward stared sightlessly out the window, overlooking Lake Michigan. After dumping Victoria and arguing with Aro and Caius about his future at Volterra, he was done. He was done with the Volturi and done with Chicago. Hell, he may be done with fighting.
What was the point?
Marcus came out with two glasses of bourbon. His lips were pursed. “Aro is fighting tooth and nail about you breaking your contract.”
“I have a month left on that damned contract,” Edward grumped. “I’ll pay whatever penalty.”
“I know you want out, but I still suggest you get an attorney,” Marcus pressed. “My brother is a ruthless bastard. I would leave with you, but he’s got my balls in a vice.”
“What are you talking about, Marcus?” Edward asked, putting his glass down.
“Do you think I’d choose to be my brother’s private doctor for his fighters?” Marcus snorted angrily. “Don’t get me wrong, I get paid handsomely, but I’d get paid more if I wasn’t being blackmailed by my brothers.”
“You’re kidding,” Edward gasped.
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