"Are you being serious?" Rumald asked, bent over at his hips as he studied the contents of a box.

Dove was lingering close by, flicking through the manifest for the recent order that had arrived before Rumald had arrived at the shop. The side of the box had a gaping hole in it. Some of the contents were missing and the rest had been damaged, and was now worthless. Rumald picked out a teacup, which was marginally intact apart from a small chip missing from the rim of the teacup. He was surprised, when it made him think of Belle. Letting his thoughts distract him, he smiled turning the teacup over, inspecting it for hairline cracks.

"I'll get onto the delivery company and have a… word." Dove said ambling from the back room to the front of the shop.

With a contented sigh, Rumald stood to his full height and took the teacup over to the workbench. He carefully placed it onto his workbench and took a step back, admiring the small delicate teacup that had survived. Somehow he knew Belle would love the small teacup, even with the chip in the rim, so maybe not all was lost from his shipment. Apart from the thirty grand he had paid for it. A chance to make Belle smile – That was worth losing thirty grand and all his fortune.

Turning away from the priceless teacup, Rumald picked up the damage box and took it out of the back door, dumping it and its contents beside the dumpster out back. He made his way back inside, brushing off the dust and packing material that had stuck to the jacket of his suit. Rumald closed the door behind him and paused mid step, his eyes caught by the small teacup. His lips spread wide again, remembering how she had yelled and laughed at him to leave the house. He did not remember it ever being like that Milah. It had always been a struggle, a fight to be in charge and for her to get her own way about things. With Belle, yes, she could fight back as hard as he gave it to her, but she was also so easy going, wanted to be there for him, loved him even. Rumald still could not get his head around the fact, he had let a woman back into his life and not only that, had asked her to marry him and gotten her pregnant.

He wiped a random hand down himself, sure he caught sight of some dust, heading to the curtain, which divided the front and back of the shop. Waving the curtain aside, Rumald stepped through into the front of the shop and waltzed behind the counter to the ledger sat open on the counter, which he had been scanning through before the delivery had arrived. Rumald glanced over to the other counter on the right of the shop, where Dove was sat on a stool, grumbling at whoever was on the other end of the phone. It was still strange to see Dove looking much older. Although, seeing himself in the mirror every morning – short greying hair, extra lines across his forehead, a few more scars – was even harder to fathom. The last he remembered, was having his hair down to his shoulders and it was still brown, and also Albert was hip height with him. Not semi towering over his father, like he did now.

Rumald looked down at the ledger and ran his finger down the page to find where he had gotten earlier. He picked up his pen and put a tick next to someone's name, marking off they had paid what was due this month. His eyes flicked up from the ledger when Dove's tone changed. 'More hassle', Rumald thought to himself, following his finger down the page to next person to tick off.

Skimming by a name on the page, Rumald stopped and retraced the path of his finger to stop at the name. Maurice French, the debtor's name was written in his own hand writing. The row had a line drawn through the middle of it in red pen. From the tally for the debtor, Rumald could see the guy owed him several thousand in rent and loans. It probably would never have caught his attention so much, as in every time he read the ledger, if it had not have been crossed out with a red pen. Rumald had never used a red pen before in his ledger. So whatever reason he had at the time, when he crossed out the debt, Rumald knew one thing for certain – It had pissed him off.

At the end of the page, hunting for a certain name, Rumald turned the page in the ledger and ran his finger down the page, when the inside pocket of his suit jacket began to ring and buzz. Delving his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket, he brought out of his phone and answered it.

"Gold." He answered as he found the name he was looking for in his ledger.

"Dad." Albert greeted hurriedly and asked. "Do you know where Belle is?"

Straightening his back at the mention of Belle's name, Rumald answered his son's question. "I think she's tutoring at the school all day."

"I've just come to see her in the library and Jess said she hasn't been here all day. She thought the kids had the wrong day until she had turned away five of them. Janice, at the town library, said she's not there either." Albert quickly informed his father.

Rumald's eyebrows squeezed together. "Have you tried calling her?"

"Yeah, loads of times. It rings and then goes to voicemail. I've texted several times as well, but she hasn't answered me. She always answers my texts." Albert said panicked.

"Okay, leave this with me, Bae." Rumald told his son, scratching at the back of his head.

"Dad," Albert sounded really quiet. "This isn't like her."

Even though, Rumald did not know her very well, or remembered how well he knew her, he knew she would not do this. "I know, son. I'll call you as soon as I know something. Keeping asking around the school, in case she turns up."

"Okay, dad. Bye." His son replied and ended the call.

He lowered his phone from his ear and stared down at the screen of his phone. Nothing seemed peculiar to him before he left for the shop. She had been smiling. They had been chatting. Made plans for the evening together. Belle had seemed really happy about it and them, especially them. He had not upset her. He had let himself be honest with her, trusted her. She had ordered him to go, because otherwise he was going to be late and she was eating her breakfast, like she did every morning when he left for work. Apart from waking up in her bed… their bed that morning, it had been a normal morning.

Rumald tapped the button his phone and entered his pin to unlock his phone, so he could call Belle himself. It was ringing when he put the phone to his ear. Waiting for her to answer, listening to the ringing, he leisurely rested his left hand on the edge of the counter and nervously tapped the band of his ring on the counter. A few more rings and Belle's voicemail cut in, requesting him to leave a message after the tone.

After the beep, Rumald said. "Hey Belle, can you call me as soon as you get this? Bae's a concerned as no one's seen you. I'm going to go home and check for you there. Hopefully, you call me before I get there."

He ended the call and slipped his phone back into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Dove," Rumald called to his employee as he walked out from behind the counter. "I'm going to pop home. Keep an eye out for Bel… For Miss French."

"Yes, Mr Gold." Dove responded with a nod of his head, confirming he had heard Rumald.

Stepping through into the back room, Rumald crossed the room to the coat stand and took his coat off of a peg, and put it on as he opened the back door of the shop. He pulled it closed behind him and dug his hands into the overcoat pockets for the keys to Albert's car. Stopping, Rumald pulled out both his hands and found he had three sets of keys in his pockets. The two in his right hand were a set for the shop and his other properties, and Albert's car keys. The set of keys in his left hand were not his, they were Belle's keys to her car and the house.

"Shit." He swore starting off again, shoving two sets of keys back into his pockets. Shaking his head at himself, Rumald yanked open Albert's car door and climbed into the car hurriedly, making the car rock with his movements. The car roared to life when he started it and he hastily put the car into gear, and pulled out from beside the shop to race home.

Rumald did not slow down for the corner as he turned into their street, causing a screech from the rear tyres. Her car was still parked by the kerb. He smacked the heel of his hand off the steering wheel, cursing inwardly at himself, and snatched the steering wheel to turn into the drive. Yanking on the emergency brake, Rumald jumped out of the car, leaving it running behind him with the driver's door wide open, and jogged up the steps to the front porch. He hurriedly opened the front door and left it to swing wide open as he walked into the house.

"Belle!" He shouted for her, looking into the living room for her.

Rumald quickly moved into the kitchen, calling her name. "Belle!"

Wearing a deep frown on his forehead, he headed towards the opening into the dining room, but stopped hearing something crunch under his foot. Rumald stepped away from the white pieces scattered over the floor by his feet, eyeing each piece in turn. He squatted down and hooked his finger around the piece with a cup handle. 'My coffee cup?', Rumald questioned himself, looking at the scattered pieces to find other pieces, which could have made up his coffee cup.

He dropped the piece in his hand onto the floor and stood up, looking around the room for further clues. The chair she had been sat in before he had left was upturned onto its side. There was milk and cereal over the table, covering the newspaper that opened out onto the table. Angling his head, Rumald stepped over the broken pieces on the floor and spotted her cereal bowl and spoon, and some more remains of her cereal over the floor near her chair. His frown deepened, darkening his eyes, as Rumald turned to look everywhere else in the kitchen. When he realised there was nothing else to discover, he headed through into the hallway and halted his step when he saw her handbag still sat on the pile of shoes. Taking the last couple of steps to her handbag, he bent over to retrieve her handbag and stood up to rummage his hand inside of her back, pulling his hand out when he found her phone. Annoyed and scared, Rumald hurled her handbag down at the pile of shoes, cursing himself and everyone else he could think of in that moment.

(Switch to Belle)

Quietly Belle whimpered at the ropes bound tightly around her wrists, making the skin under the ropes bright red and sore. She tried to brace herself for every bump in the road, which aggravated the pain in her wrists. They had been driving for about two hours. She had no clue where they were heading. Her first thought had been, when they had left Storybrooke, that they were heading for the interstate, but when they had turned away from the direction of the interstate Belle had become instantly lost. Her sense of direction had gone by the time they entered a thick wood, driving down a single track road.

Out of the corner of her eye, she dared to glimpse at Malcolm Gold, who was studying something on his iPad, tapping and flicking at different intervals. Belle leaned against her car door and rested her head against the glass, wincing at the pain from the bump on her head. Sometimes she wished she never listened to her mother's advice. Being brave was not always the cleverest move. She still was not quite sure what happened after Malcolm had hit her with the handle of his cane. The only thing she remembered clearly was throwing her cereal bowl at him, which he managed to bat away with a small amount of milk going on himself, while she had made a mad dash to hallway before his cane smacked her in the back of the head.

Belle flicked her gaze to the back of the head in front of her. They had yet to turn around, but she was sure it was Mike, who they had bumped into during their trip to New York. He was the same sort of build and hairstyle. Looking back out of the window, she contemplated slinging her bounded arms around his neck and strangulating him for being there in New York. Rumald's father would never had known they were in New York at the same time. His father would not come to see her in the coffee shop, if it had not have been for him. They would not have fought, if Mike had kept his big goddamn mouth shut. And she most certainly doubted, Malcolm would have carried her, unconscious, to the car. To Belle, it seemed like something that would have been beneath Malcolm, having his loyal employee for those kind of jobs – dirty jobs.

"Looks like they've arrived as well." The driver turned to look at Malcolm, revealing it was Mike driving the car.

Malcolm looked up from his iPad and leaned enough to see through the front windscreen. "Good."

Intrigue, Belle tried to sneakily look between the seats, though all she saw was a red sports car parked at the front of the house they were approaching. The house was very grand, almost the same size as Gladius's but not as welcoming looking. The black iron gates blocking the drive were accompanied by two ugly gargoyles. The house itself seemed to be shrouded in the black cloud, blocking any sunlight from touching the house. There was no colour surrounding the house. No displays of flowers. She had never known a house could look so miserable.

The gates opened upon their approach, allowing them inside, and closed immediately when they were through the gates. Belle twisted her head to watch the gates close, scrunching her face as her freedom was taken away. The car pulled to a stop a short distance away from the other car in front of the house. The motion of the car stopping caused her to brace herself on the driver's seat with her hands and she hissed at the pain in her wrists.

"Take her inside." Malcolm commanded coldly as he exited the car and slammed the door behind him. The rocked with Mike exiting the car and shut his door to open Belle's. He reached inside and grabbed her by the rope around her wrists, hoisting her out of the car with a cry of pain. Belle tried to use her momentum from being pulled out of the car to shoulder barge him in the chest. He stumbled back a step, but it was not enough and Belle whipped back when she tried to run, only to come face to face with Mike.

"Don't make me do something I don't want to do." Mike told her forcefully. "Just because you're a woman and pregnant, doesn't mean I won't hurt you."

Yanking her to follow with him, Mike lead the way to the front door of the house, which Malcolm had left open for them. Belle knew it had been foolish to try to get away, nevertheless she had to try, if not for herself then for her baby. He pulled hard at her restraints making her stumble over the threshold into the house and closed the door behind her as she regained her balance.

"Hello, love." A familiar voice crooned.

Belle spun, restrained from turning fully with Mike holding onto her, and came face to face with the voice. "Killian?!"

"Aye." He smiled, which probably dazzled many women apart from Belle.

"What are you doing here?" She questioned, scrunching her forehead at him. It dawned on her, the car outside, the red sports car outside, was Killian's car.

"You'll find out soon enough." Killian's smile broadened, but only became more sickly to Belle.

Mike yanked on her restraints. "Come on."

She had no choice except to follow him. Glancing back over her shoulder made her stumble a step or two, but she could not help herself as she looked at Killian, who was watching her as well. The last time she had seen him was at Gladius's Christmas party, where he had tried to force himself onto her and Rumald defended himself when Killian tried to punch him. Seeing him, all Belle wanted to do was pound her bound fists into his face.

"You brought her here?!" A raised female voice shrieked from a room they were approaching.

"It'll be easier to get it out of her here." Malcolm explained.

They were passing by the room, when Belle saw who the woman was and should not have been surprised after seeing Killian, who the woman was. Milah was pacing with Liam held to her chest, bouncing him as she patted his back. Belle's eyes grew wide at the sight of Milah. She should have known it had been too good for too long. With all of them disappearing and going quiet, Belle should have known something was going on. She stumbled at step after Mike, losing sight of Milah and into the room, and had no choice but to follow Mike away from their discussion. She could barely hear them the further they got down the corridor. Bearing as much as she could, leaning back against Mike, Belle tried to hear what they were saying until she heard a distant click of a door closing.

They stopped abruptly and Belle nearly walked straight into Mike. He eyed her before opening the door they had stopped in front of, and shoved her inside. She lost her balanced as she entered, falling down what felt like steps, and grabbed out for anything that could save her. Her shoulder bounced off the wall to her right, which caused her to lose her footing completely and fell the last few steps. Belle managed to turn herself enough in the fall to land on her back, crying out the pain as it resonated through her body. She hugged her bound hands to her stomach, feeling wave after wave of pain isolated there.

"Please!" Belle cried out to whoever was listening. "Don't do this!"

Turning onto her side, Belle let herself cry, praying over and over that her baby was alright. Her tears quickly wetted the floor by her face. She turned her face into the floor and curled herself as much as she could into a ball.