Saving Grace

Arthur is due back tomorrow, which means I'll be able to take a few days off from tending to the business, something I avoid doing.

Mostly because down time meant alone time with my thoughts.

This time, however, I don't plan to be alone. I want to take Grace out again, though over the past two weeks I have shown up to the bar every other day and asked for her personally, and become accustomed to walking her back to the hotel every night after her shift.

We have been seen in public on more than one occasion, which is both a risk, and the beginning of setting a trap. If there really is someone after me, watching me, then they will have to have seen Grace and I by now.

If they want to target her, I want to make sure I'm there when they're lured out. Which is why I started walking her home every night, and showing up at the pub more frequently.

That, and I can't deny the pull I have to her. I can't go a day without wanting to see her, and it's no longer just due to the concern for her safety. It's a need now.

I promised myself not to fall for her, but it's been getting harder with each passing day. The more I hear about her, learn her quirks and unique traits, the deeper I fall.

Her smile touches my cold heart and sets it on fire.

Her laugh lifts my soul and makes it feel lighter.

She is my Heaven on Earth. I don't deserve her. She is an angel, never meant for a demon like me. How she ended up here, in my arms, if I so choose, I will probably spend the rest of my cursed life figuring out.

For now, I want to enjoy the moment.

Every good thing must come to an end.

Taking things slow with Grace has helped feel like our time together is lasting longer, making me want to stretch out this game we've made up going as long as my will can handle.

The more time I spend around her, especially in that barista dress she and Scarlet are forced to wear, thanks to Arthur and is weird ways of getting off. I never thought of Scarlet as looking like anything other than your typical server, who tries a little too hard by tying her dress in the back to make it appear tighter and higher.

Grace looks both sexy and adorable, which I didn't think was a possible combination. I can never keep my eyes off her, not even now as she makes her way through the pub, a drink tray in her hand. I haven't told her I've arrived yet, it being Saturday, a rather busy night for the pub.

Arthur is also due back any time today or tomorrow, depending on weather and travel he said. Everything seems to have gone well in London, saying he was able to sort it all out, and will explain more to me when he gets back.

I have a lot to discuss with him as well. We have suffered two attacks by the Italians since he has left, both in the same fucking day. I can bet the next time they strike; it isn't going to be small. They've already stolen a whole shipment of very valuable products, and a lot of the auto parts we use for false packaging. Those parts aren't easy or cheap to obtain.

I'm also wondering how long it's going to take until he hears about Grace, and starts questioning me about it.

My uncle has never cared about the girls I mess around with, or even date, but he has always drawn the line at his employees. I gave him the Gala, though it's still owned under my name, but I said he could do with it as he pleases. That meant hire who he wanted, and set whatever rules he thought appropriate.

One of those rules; is no dating or fucking the employees, more importantly the servers and baristas. It wasn't always a rule, since Scarlet and I used to fool around a bit, and that's exactly why it became a rule.

She started to become too attached, and I tried calling things off. This caused her to mope around at work, slack at her job and easily become angry and frustrated with customers for a while. It became a real problem for Arthur, and even more so when Michael went and did the same thing to the girl who worked there before Grace, and ended up getting her pregnant.

It's the reason she left, since Michael tried talking her into getting an abortion, and said it was an accident and he already has a kid to raise, not wanting another. She threw a fit, broke a few mugs in the pub, and then the rule was put in place.

Though I haven't broken the rule by sleeping with Grace, it has become quite obvious by now to others, that we are dating.

Is that what we're doing?

Maybe after tonight.

"The usual, I'm guessing? A bottle of whiskey and your side piece?" Scarlet sneers, strutting pass to empty her tray and probably tell Grace I'm here.

I know she has been acting out to get my attention, purely due to jealousy, of course. I've been trying to ignore it the past couple weeks, but I haven't thought much about how she might be acting towards Grace when I'm not here.

She would never act out physically or say anything disrespectful towards me, she fears me and the gang too much. But she has no reason to fear Grace, or so she thinks. I haven't claimed her as anything, or even said publicly that we're dating.

She doesn't know how much I care about this 'side piece', and how much I don't care about her.

Before she has the chance to talk away, I grab her wrist and yank her back towards me roughly, not caring how harsh I'm being. No one talks out against those I care about, most importantly, never about Grace.

I pull her down until her ear is at my lips and whisper, "you have never been anything more than a body that warmed my bed for a short time. You once provided me with the distraction I sought, and I'll forever be grateful for that."

I yank on her arm again, dragging her down further and causing her to yelp in pain.

"But if you ever speak ill to me about Grace, say anything bad to her face, or think of laying a finger on her, I will make your life such a living hell; you'll be grateful when I end your life after it all."

I hear her gulp, her body trembling.

"Do you understand?"

She nods her head, biting her lip so hard I think she might draw blood. I release her wrist roughly and push her away, not wanting to look at her anymore.

"Oh, tell Grace I'm here, " I call out before she disappears.

It takes Grace so long to appear, I almost think Scarlet just ran off, until she pushed her way through the crowd, a timid smile on her face.

I'm on my feet and cupping her face before I know it, looking it over for any sign of distress.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

She removes my hands from her face and takes a seat, placing the bottle of whiskey I always ask for on the table and two glasses. "I saw what happened with Scarlet, and the way she looked afterwards. She is pretty upset. What did you say to her?" she asks, her eyes wide and curious.

I was pretty rough with Scarlet, my anger getting the best of me, as always. I have no doubt she will have a bruise on her wrist, in the form of my hand, come tomorrow morning. I never feel guilt, at least not anymore, but the way Grace looked at me just now, makes my chest feel tight.

"She said something disrespectful about you, I just told her never to speak like that again. Scarlet is sensitive, despite working in such an environment, and I guess I just have a way of intimidating people, " I say, trying to lighten her mood.

By the way she furrows her brows together, it doesn't seem too.

I put my drink down, a little harder than necessary, to get her attention again.

"I want to take you somewhere this evening, before it gets too cold out, " I say, leaning back in the seat to fetch my cigarette case from my jacket pocket, looking everywhere but at her. For some reason, I can't meet her eyes, or the ball in my chest tightens.

"Do I get a say in whether I want to go or not?" she asks, her tone a little harsh.

I can tell that whatever state Scarlet was in when she got Grace, it's really bothering her. But I know, no matter how I explain it, it probably isn't going to make her feel or understand any better.

At the same time, even if she does decide to come out with me tonight, it won't be a pleasant night until this is settled.

"Grace, I got angry with her because she has been acting out all week, throwing dirt on your name to my face. I couldn't take it any longer tonight, when she called you my side piece, alright? I'm an angry man, you should know that by now, and sometimes I can't always hold my temper. I'm not going to apologize for that."

Her eyes widen a bit, and she looks down biting her lip. Suddenly, she shakes her head and looks back up, smiling at me.

"I don't want you to apologize for it, it's one of the many things I like about you. I know I can always rely on you to be there for me, I suppose, even when it come to mean girls, " she snickers, her posture relaxing.

"So, will you come out with me tonight?" I ask.

She pretends to think it over, though I'm confident she is going to say yes.

"On one condition, " she says, holding a finger up.

I cock a brow, hesitant to ask.

She moves around the booth closer to me, a sly smile spreading across her face, and stops when our knees touch. Leaning in close, she whispers, "I want you to kiss me, right here, in this booth."

I stare at her, bewildered by her sudden demand. I know what she is trying to get at, thinking I won't do it because of the large crowd around us, anyone could see.

A smile twists my lips, and I pull her closer, letting her warmth wash over me and help fade out the rowdy crew in the background, until it feels like just the two of us in the tiny booth.

Her eyes widen and lips part, making it easier to kiss her and slip my tongue to meet hers. I give her a fiery kiss, wanting to show her that I am beyond caring what others have to say. Though the voice in the back of my head is still warning me of the dangers that might be lurking by.

With that thought, I restrain myself and pull away.

"You're going out with me, tonight after your shift is over. I'll come back to walk you home, " I whisper, letting my lips caress hers, before pulling back entirely.

"Are you not staying?"

I shake my head, downing my drink and checking my watch. The house should be cleaning up about now, and since I have Jeremiah guarding Grace's door again tonight, I'll have to make sure that there is someone at the house, and someone I trust well.

Before I can reach the car outside, Michael calls out and comes running up, looking like he ran across town.

"Nathanial, Arthur is back, and he called a family meeting at the house."

He's back already, and calling a family meeting so early? I was under the impression that he would be coming home with good news, and usually summoning the entire family for a meeting isn't for good news.

I climb into the car and leave the door open for Michael.

"Are you coming or what?" I ask.

"I'll meet you there, Arthur asked me to check on something quick for him before I head over. You are the person he wants to speak with the most, anyway." He turns and heads into the Gala.

Something doesn't feel right.

Regardless, I turn the car on and drive towards the house. Arthur's car is parked outside when I get there, and dash out of my car as soon as it's off, when I see the multiple bullet shots in the driver's side door.

"Arthur? Arthur!" I call out into the house.

Lila races down the stairs, shushing me angrily.

"Would you shut up? Tommy isn't feeling well and I just got him to sleep, Michael had a hell of a morning trying to get him to stop throwing a fit."

She waves me up the stairs and I bounce after her, eager to see the state Arthur is in. I'm a little relieved not seeing any panic on my aunt's face, but she has always been good at remaining calm in tough situations, to keep everyone else from panicking as well.

"He is in his office, " she says, and disappears down the opposite side of the hallway, probably to look over Tommy.

When I open the office door, I let out a breath of relief again when I see Arthur standing in the middle of the room, nothing more than a bandage wrapped around his arm and a bit of blood soaking through.

"What the hell happened?" I asked, walking towards him to inspect the gunshot wound. "I saw your car outside, who attacked you?"

He pulls his arm away and gives me an accusing look. "I was hoping you could tell me, but before that, I have something else to ask you about."

A lump forms in my throat. I know what he is going to ask me about; Grace. How the hell word got to him so fast, I'm going to be spending the next few days finding out.

"Phoned the house the other day, wanting to speak with Lila and tell her I was coming home, but instead I got Michael. I asked him how things were going, and surprise when I find out you're shacking up with my new bartender, and not only that, but you didn't even research her before you stick your dick inside of her!" he roars at me, rearing back his hand like he's going to hit me.

"She's your bartender, I assumed you did the research yourself before hiring her, " I say calmly, trying to deescalate the sudden burst of anger.

Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long breath, taking a few steps back.

"I asked her where she had worked before, said she used to work at O'Malley's, a trusted fellow in our group and we own the damn place, so I figured she was good to work there. I only ever intended for her to be a bartender, serve a few drinks and maybe work in the kitchen every now and then, but I never wanted her anywhere near the business, and now she has your finger wrapped around her."

I open my mouth to protest, but he waves a hand angrily.

"Don't try and tell me otherwise, I learned quite enough to know she's more than just some hussy or last night call like Scarlet was. You've had Jeremiah guarding her door at the Kings Hotel every other night, for two weeks. You've been seen out and about, taking her out and treating her nice like, a little out of your character Nathanial, eh?"

"What's your point?" I'm starting to get fed up. If he wanted to rip me a new one, why doesn't he already? What was he going on about research?

"My point, is you're already knee deep in this, and you have no idea who this girl is. Well, I did the research you should have done, before letting someone get so close to you, let alone a female. You are aware that she is Italian, right? An immigrant none the less, from the war. Her name isn't even Grace Miller."

"It's Anabel, " I say, the name sounding better on my lips, a sense of calm coming over me just by speaking it.

Arthur narrows his eyes at me and walks closer. "Just how much of herself has she told you? Did she tell you about her mother? How she had to travel all the way here by herself, fend for herself, get a job and place to live by herself, with nothing to her name?"

A growl rips out of my throat. "Yes, " I manage to grit out through clenched teeth.

"Did you ever stop once to question how the hell that's possible? A young girl travelling across the world, loses her mother right before crossing the border and is left with nothing, miraculously survives five years on her own, looking as fruitful and healthy as she does, no scars or wounds, nothing to say she has lived the hard life she says she has?"

I open my mouth, but nothing comes to mind, my head is blank. I never thought about that, not even once, or questioned how flawless her skin is, or healthy her physique is. She lived in a run-down apartment, but with the growing population, there aren't many vacant spaces left in New York, and construction slow on building new properties.

Arthur scoffs and shakes his head. "What the hell happened while I was gone?"

"Why is she such a concern? What did you find out?" I try and keep my voice calm, but my mind is now reeling out of control.

Arthur points to the chair in front of his desk, taking a seat in his own. "You might want to sit down; this is an earful."

I take a reluctant seat and gesture for him to go on. He takes a deep breath and leans forward, suddenly looking like he is going to regret whatever he has to say.

"I got a few connections down at the station to bring up her records, but they couldn't find anything on her other than the name she came here with, before she changed it to Grace Miller. Yes, her real name is Anabel as she has told you, I'm surprised she didn't lie about that."

"Why would she have lied?" I asked, coaxing him to speed up his explanation.

"Because she never revealed her last name to you, clearly. It obviously isn't Miller, that name is too American for a girl born and raised in Italy. It's part of the name she chose when crossing the border, but she still had to give some sort of documentation when she arrived. The contact at the station said that they had a fire a few years ago, in their file room of all places, and most if not, everything was damaged or burned; including all of her documents."

I run a tired hand down my face. "So, what does that mean? How were you able to find anything out about her?"

"Because thankfully the copper I spoke to, Landon something, said he was there in the immigration office, when she had come across. He remembered her, because he was taken with her, saying she looked like a strange, beautiful sad puppy when she arrived. She seemed to charm her way to agreeing that the other copper looking over her papers, look the other way to the fact that she was an Italian trying to come into the country during the war.

"When I asked him if he remembered her name, or anything on her papers that might be useful, he said he could only remember her real name; Anabel Cavallini, as in Matteo Cavallini, same one you brought down."

Fuck me.

Hello Dear Readers!

It has been an EXTREMELY long time since I last updated any stories on here, and I am so incredibly sorry for that! A lot of things have happened in my life and I temporarily abandoned my passion for writing. During that time, my on-going contract with MoboReader had come to an end. But I am back, and hopefully better than ever. I will be continuing on with this story for the time being, while contemplating if I will continue with any other on-going stories published on her.

I have also published a new story called Changing My Fate, the first few chapters available now for free! :)

Now, onward to the story! xo

**********************************

I awake to almost complete darkness, the candle next to the bed almost burnt out, but still providing a low amber glow. When I try to sit up, Nathanial's arm draped across my stomach presses into me, keeping me glued to the bed.

Everything from last night comes rushing back to me; the dinner, the quarry, and the best sex I have ever experienced, and probably will experience, in my lifetime.

I also remember the way Nathanial looked at me, the deep emotion screaming through his eyes as we finally gave into each other. It both frightened and excited me, but left me feeling confused after it was said and done. When he left the bed, I thought he had already regretted I and was leaving, but he left to get me a cloth.

He was being a complete gentleman, tending to my every need, going above and beyond to fix my personal and emotional problems. He is nothing like the man that was described to me, and he is making this whole operation much harder than I expected.

I promised myself I wouldn't be the one to fall, that I was strong enough to do this mission, that I have to be strong. Get close to him, break his heart and watch the chaos unfold. Simple as that.

So, then why am I lying here, contemplating jumping out the window and running away? Why am I telling myself that I can't do this? That I've already failed, that I failed a long time ago. Whether I love Nathanial or not, I've fallen for him; hard.

I don't know if I can still complete this mission, and not feel utter guilt afterwards. Even if I walk away now, would I still be saving him?

I for sure thought last night, he was going to cave, and tell me he loves me. I saw it in his eyes, in the way he treated me and planned the entire night.

Why didn't he say it? Why did he plan this big, romantic evening?

There is no way it was just for the sex, or we would have gone back to the King's Hotel for the night, a place where he can leave the next morning, and doesn't have to worry about getting me home or taking me anywhere.

Matteo said one more night, and I'm out. I think I accomplished more than I thought I would get, in just one night. I don't know how many times I've had to pretend to be asleep, or learn to be absolutely still and silent. I did a pretty good job last night, long enough to hear a phrasing of the words I need to hear.

He has fallen, I've won this imaginary game, and my mission. If he has fallen as hard as I have, then he will fall even harder when he wakes up alone.

This is my only chance. I slowly lift his limbs off me and poke his side for extra measure, making sure he is dead asleep. I rush around the room to gather the clothes he leant me, having no idea where my wet mess of a dress and under garments went, and I don't really have the time to search this enormous manor.

I do, have the time to quickly search his closets for a jacket of some kind, so I can at least make it back to the Cavallini house. Or hopefully a taxi to take me there.

Carefully remembering the way, I found the front foyer, where thankfully my shoes are placed by the front door, along with the boots that I used to get to the quarry.

Looking at them, my heart squeezes painfully. I ignore the thought and decide to take the boots anyway, seeing them as more suitable footwear for the long walk ahead of me. I just need to make it to town, where I can reach a payphone and call for a ride.

That can't be that hard, can it?

I look down the long driveway and my hope falls. This is not going to be easy.

***

What feels like hours later, I am off the large manor property and travelling down the main road into town, trying my best to keep my pace up, but my legs are already starting to feel like lead. I haven't done this much walking in a long time, and I really wasn't prepared for this.

I have to be at least half-way there, I hope.

A couple miles more it seems, and my hope lifts a little when headlights flash behind me, heading in the direction of town. I turn around and start to wave them down, hoping it's just a family or someone going home late from a weekend travel.

At this hour, it could be anyone, but I must stay optimistic.

The car slows down, and I quickly realize it isn't a car; it's a windowless van. Before it can come to a complete stop, my instincts kick in and I take off running, ignoring the burning in my legs. I hear the squeal of the tires behind me, and the gravel kick up as the van veers towards me, almost set on hitting me.

I manage to jump off the road just as it is about to hit me, clutching my rapidly beating heart. The van comes to a halt in front of me, and a darkly dressed man with a mask rush toward me. Before I can open my mouth to scream out, the only thing that comes to mind, he grabs the back of my head and slams a cloth over my already open mouth.

I know the drug it is soaked in before I take my first inhale, and know there is no use fighting it, I'm already caught. I try and make out any features on my captors' face, before the darkness takes over, but all I can make out is dark eyes, and a tribal tattoo on his neck, peeking out from under his collared shirt.

Well shit, I should have just taken a cab.

***

When the sun hits my eyes, I moan and roll around the cover my face with the pillows, expecting to hit the soft flesh of the goddess next to me. I nearly jump out of bed when I feel nothing but cold, empty covers instead.

My eyes search the entire room, but my golden goddess is nowhere to be found, and neither are her things.

She ran in the middle of the night. But why? What had I done last night, that might have scared her off? Did I assume her feelings too much, and was the only one to fall?

Dressing quickly, I rush into the office to phone Arthur and ask if he has seen Grace at the Gala, but there is no answer at home or the pub. That leaves me no choice but try and hunt her down myself.

Unless she doesn't want to be found. Regardless, I have some questions or her anyway. There is no way I imagined the connection we have, I know she felt it too. It's no longer about the stupid bet, it never really was. It was about two stubborn people, unable to admit they found their ultimate weakness.

Damn you, Grace.

Slamming down the phone, I make my way to the front door, not stopping to even question why Phyllis is standing in the kitchen doorway as I blow past her, already knowing she can never stop worrying about what she shouldn't worry about.

Grabbing the car keys, I rip open the door and stop dead in my tracks.

Daniel Cavallini is standing on my doorway, soaked from the rain, looking ready to murder me. This morning just keeps getting better by the second.

"Where the hell is she, you bastard?" he roars at me, lifting his pistol to aim at the center of my head. "You know exactly who I'm talking about, so don't even try and play dumb with me."

Slowly, I raise a hand and pull the pistol down away from my face, trying my best to keep my anger at bay and remain neutral, not giving him anymore reason to paint the stairs with my blood.

"She isn't here, I could've asked you the same question, but here we are. Why are you looking for her so urgently? What has happened?" I ask, once again trying to remain clueless and calm, not alerting him that she has already ran away from me, and I haven't the slightest idea where she might have gone.

Daniel rummages in his pocket and shoves a crumpled piece of paper into my chest, finally removing the pistol and holstering it.

The girl for the debt. You are wiped clean.

"What the hell does this mean? I have no debt with anyone, and if I did, I would never bargain Grace's life for it!"

Daniel lowers his head in shame, and the anger I have been withholding rears its ugly head through my chest. I grab a fist full of his shirt and ram him against the brick building, hearing a sickening crack as his head collides with it.

"What the fuck have you done? What kind of mess have you and your father got yourselves into, huh? What filthy bastards have my girl?!" I scream at him, my vision blinded red with rage, unable to control it, no longer wanting too.

"She was never yours, Nathanial." Daniel starts laughing. "She really got you wrapped around her little finger, didn't she? My father and I were starting to have doubts, with her coming to the manor and asking to be let out of her deal, but she really did you in one."

My fist flies towards his face, hitting him repeatedly until I feel satisfied with the bloody mess in front of me.

"You have seconds to explain," I mutter, with so much deadly anger, I almost scare myself.

"She was supposed to infiltrate you, make up some story about being a worker from another bar, but she never knew no one," he stops to spit out a mouth full of blood. "Get whatever information she can from the pub, then get close with you, so she could get in deeper, find out anything we could to take you down. Then, my father pushed her in deeper, wanted to make you not only bleed on the outside, but die on the inside too."

I can't hear anymore. I smash his head against the wall once more, before letting him slump to the ground.

It was all a trick. The entire time I thought I was playing her; she was really playing me.

And she got me. She got me bad.

But that still doesn't explain why Daniel is here now, looking for her on my doorstep.

"Where was she headed last night?" I ask.

Daniel spits out more blood and wipes his mouth before standing. "She was supposed to come back to the manor with all the information and documents she was able to gather from your place, then she would have been out, if Matteo actually allowed her to leave."

"What the hell does that mean? Is she not a member of the Cavallini family?"

He scoffs. "Yeah, she's the princess of the Cavallini family, has been for the past five years. But she doesn't come from the blood of my father, though he was friends with hers. She sought our family our when she crawled off that boat with nothing to her name, begging for help. We agreed to offer her enough money to run away to wherever she and her mother were headed, but she had to fulfill one job with us."

"What job is that exactly?"

"Make you fall in love with her, then break your heart in the only way you can feel pain; betrayal."

***

Oh, you've got to be kidding me? How did I manage to go and get myself kidnapped?

This is quite the situation I have found myself in, I should have never accepted a ride from these thugs, and I definitely should have paid attention to the slight red flags around me. Why would someone like these two, looking like they just crawled out of the slums, be driving a rather nice vehicle in the middle of the night, and furthermore, pick up a strange woman wandering the streets?

That whole situation should have been a dead giveaway, but I was so desperate to get away from Nathanial's place before he woke up. I was surprised he didn't spring into action when I moved off the bed, having noticed how alert and focused he is, even when sleeping. An obvious habit he developed from the war; I'm shocked he doesn't keep a gun under his pillow.

The question now is; where the hell are they taking me? There is no way Matteo already found out I never planned to return? Besides, these guys don't look like they would ever work for Matteo, he doesn't like dealing with gutter rats, as he calls the people in the slums.

New question; who do they work for then?

I haven't made any new enemies that I can remember, and it's too sone after leaving Nathanial's place for him to have figured out what happened, and sent thugs after me, and I still have time to return to Matteo as planned, so he shouldn't be behind this.

Would the coppers really go this far, just to capture an Italian immigrant like me? Even if my sweet talk hadn't worked back when I crossed over, they would've just sent me back, not thrown me in prison or go these lengths to capture me if my identity was ever discovered.

Before I can think any further, the vehicle stops moving and I'm thrown from the car by two rough hands. A bag has been secured over my head, tossed on me from the dirtbag hiding in the back that I hadn't saw when I climbed in at first. It took him seconds to get this cloth bag over my head, then my hands were seized and tied. I've been lying on my side ever since, having no sense of time or direction to know just how long and far we've gone from the city.

"Can you please at least tell a lady why you decided to pick her up and hog tie her? If you're planning on defiling me, I promise you really don't have to tie me up, I'm rather not into that style of foreplay."

I've been trying to get a reaction out of them for some time, but none of them have said a word since they put the bag over my head. No point in trying to hide their identities, I already saw their faces and I don't recognize either of them, though I hadn't seen the lad in the back, but regardless they look like such plain men, I wouldn't have been able to tell them out of a line of people.

"Just leave her there," I hear an unfamiliar voice, deep and hollow, void of emotion. It sounds like an older man, refined and pristine are the words that come to mind listening to it. This is obviously someone of high power, or the one in power himself, but I don't know that accent. I've heard quite a few different ones since coming to New York, but this one isn't one of them.

"Put her down there."

A drawled, thick accent. Yet still sounds sophisticated somehow. I feel my bottom hit a wooden seat and my legs are bound to the chair legs. When the bag is ripped off my head, it's thankfully dark enough in the small warehouse style room for my eyes to adjust quickly, and see the white-haired man dressed in a crisp pinstripe suit and black leather shoes sitting in a plush cushioned chair in front of me.

He wears a sneer on his slightly wrinkled face the moment his eyes make contact with mine, his light blue eyes holding an immense amount of hatred.

"Do you know who I am, sweetheart?" he asks me, his tone dropping to sound sincere, but I see the glint in his eye. He has no intention of being pleasant to me, no matter how nice his voice sounds.

"Not sure you would have to kidnap me and drag me here, if I knew who you were."

The man lifts a brow at me and motions for a man to come over with a file in hand, passing it to the man to flip through, his steely eyes never leaving mine.

"You're rather dark to have been born from a Caucasian mother, and yet your twin brother could probably pass for a Mexican if he had survived."

I feel the blood boil in my body. What the hell is the man talking about? How does he know about Abel and my mother?

There is no possible way this strange man knows the secret about my origin either, no one outside of my family knows that, and I'm the only one who made it over here. We had no enemies in Venice, we lived a leisurely life and stayed under the radar.

"Who the hell are you?" I snarl, twisting my legs as my anger continues to rise and my body grows impatient. His men take that as a sign of resistance and have their guns pointed at me instantly, but he waves his hand to order them to stand down.

Another giveaway; whatever he wants me for, he wants me alive. My life isn't in any immediate danger for the moment, but that doesn't mean one wrong move, and I won't end up with a bullet wound in me somewhere, just good enough that I'll stay alive but still suffer.

"My name is George Harrisson, and your boyfriend is an important business partner of mine, but recently he has had in his head in other places, as well as his hands."

"Speak plainly, I have no business with your mob dealings, I'm not close enough to Nathanial to have been involved in family matters."

George scoffs. "I find that hard to believe, seeing as we picked you up on the road leading to his secluded fortress, a place where one as rarely ever seen a beautiful woman such as yourself leaving. There is a reason Nathanial Galloway built a manor far out into a barren forest, a fortress to keep your deepest, darkest secrets. The ones you want to keep even from the family you hold so dearly."

"You assume I was there because I am one of those, he holds dear?" It's my turn to laugh at him/ "You're sorely mistaken, I'm just a good fuck."

George is across the room, my face grasped tightly between his fingers as he squishes my cheeks like a fish.

"You expect me to believe that a man like Nathanial, would willing let an Italian woman walk into his home, and he doesn't have any personal connections to her? It is not unknown to anyone who walks these streets, that Nathanial and his family are a part of an elite Irish mob, who are trying to crawl their way out of the gutter and join the big boys like me. The next biggest known fact, is that he despises the Italians. It is the main reason he decided to do business with the Brits, people he considers just as dirty as the Italians."

I'm well aware of Nathanial and his dealings with the Italians, or I would have never involved myself with Matteo and his goons. If I ever wanted to make it out of New York with enough money to live a decent life, I had to connect myself with the only other people I could call anything close to family, or I would have been run out the moment I stepped foot in the city.

"So, what do you want from me? If you're expecting me to know all those dirty little secrets, I'm sorry to disappoint you but I don't know anything other than the man is desperate for affection." That isn't exactly a lie, anyone who gets close enough to Nathanial can tell he is very much a man who can no longer feel anything, physically or emotionally.

Anyone in that situation would crave for a single moment where they could feel something, whether it be in the arms of another or not. My heart beats painfully in my chest, knowing that I was that person to him, and I tore myself away from him so easily, just as he started to fall. It's a guilt that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

"Oh no, I know for a fact that you don't know anything. Nathanial has been betrayed enough times to not be stupid enough to reveal anything to a woman. From my understanding, even the woman of the family barely knows anything, or have any involvement in their mob affairs. You can't expect a woman to keep her mouth shut when around other woman, they all love to gossip, am I right?"

"Do I strike you as your typical woman? If I did, you wouldn't be treating me so harshly," I say and look down at my feet and hands bound to this dirty and unstable chair. If I was any heavier than I am, moving just a little could break it, and maybe be to my advantage. Unfortunately, my small frame barely covers the seat.

"No, you don't, which is why you're so obviously a woman who has already been claimed by Nathanial, and he isn't the kind of man to allow others to touch what is his."

It's clear now his intent. He wants to get back at Nathanial by targeting what he thinks is his biggest weakness. I let out a low chuckle and bow my head, feeling sick for some reason.

"Is there something you find funny, Miss Anabel?"

My head snaps up at the foreign name. "How do you know that name?"

He waves the file in his hand, a victorious smirk on his face.

"I know everything I need to know about you, Anabel Cavallini. I know of your family, your origins, even who your real mother is. There are records of everything that happens in this world, whether it be physical evidence or word of mouth, you can never completely get rid of something in this world. Your past is no exception."