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.