As Rumald entered the town hall, he removed his sunglasses and slipped them into the inside pocket of his overcoat, and purposefully climbed the marble stairs, taking two at a time, heading straight to the Mayor's office. His rage was coursing through his veins, burning inside of him, as Belle's despair clung to him. No matter, how much she was putting on a brave face, beaming a smile like nothing was wrong, accepting the situation was out of her control, Rumald was not going to let this lie. The fire under his proverbial ass had been stoked. If he couldn't get to Cora, he would get the worm, who was enabling her to torment Belle.
He had been awe of her as Belle had shook her worry and thanked him for being there for her, for listening to her concerns. Watching the rest of their practise, hunched in the corner, Rumald had wished, he could have an ounce of her incredibly fortitude. How she was able to hold her head up high, even though her livelihood was being threatened, and bravely carry on, without uttering an unkind word, was a mystery Rumald. If he had been in her shoes, he would have been cursing everyone under the sun, no doubt smash things in frustration and threaten bodily harm his tormentor. It really hit home, the difference between them and the depth of his feelings for her.
Shoving open the outer door to the Mayor's office, the door handle slammed into the wall as Rumald stormed into the office. Arlene jumped behind her desk, scattering papers across her desk, some of them fell onto the floor.
Rumald pointed an accusing finger at the closed door. "Is he in there?"
"Err… Yes, Mr Gold." She stuttered, cowling behind her desk.
"Thank you." He spat before forcing the door open.
The door swung wide and hit the doorstop, the force vibrated through the door and the glass pane, while the loud thud jostled the Mayor was his musings, sat in his large leather chair, situated behind his vast dark wood desk. His shock at Rumald's entrance was apparent on his face. Striding straight up to the desk, Rumald slammed his hands down onto the desk, scaring the Mayor into jumping in his seat.
"I think we need a little chat, Trevor." Rumald snarled, while being tempted to skip talking and slam the Mayor's face repeatedly into his own desk.
The Mayor held up his hand as though it would hold off Rumald. "Whatever's upset you, Rumald, I'm sure we can talk this out."
"Upset is putting it mildly." He hissed, clenching his hands into fists, restraining himself.
"What… What…" The Mayor stuttered. "What can I do for you?"
"Do for me?" Rumald could not help the small chuckle before he became deadly serious. "You can stop listening to that poisonous witch!"
The Mayor's face screwed up at the accusation. "Cora?"
Rumald leaned up from the desk, flexing his gloved hands. "I warned you."
"I sent Regina a cheque for her deposit. I did it first thing, the following Monday morning." The Mayor squirmed in his chair, desperately pleading with Rumald. "I don't understand, what this could be about."
"Belle French." Rumald seethed, coiling his right hand into a fist, the tension made the leather of his glove creak.
"Belle French? The librarian?" He dumbly questioned.
"Yes." Rumald spat the word out.
Opening and closing his mouth, looking about his desk for an answer, an excuse, the Mayor held his hands above his desk, not knowing what to do with himself. "It's just… Rumald, you know… Funds are tight. The council… spoke of this early in the year." He looked up to Rumald, beseeching him. "I can't control, what the treasury and the council, deems where the funds should be spent."
"You're telling me, old man Winkle, has suddenly started doing his job as treasurer?" Rumald couldn't believe his ears.
"No." The Mayor shrunk in his chair. "Mrs Mills has taken over the position."
"What! When!" Rumald exclaimed.
Flustered, the Mayor waved his hands around, gesturing wildly. "It was announced at council meeting, when you were out of town."
Rumald swiftly bent forward, bracing his weight with one hand, whilst he grabbed the Mayor by his shirt and hauled him over the desk, bringing them face to face. "And no one thought to notify me!"
"It was… She said…" The Mayor babbled, his eyes darting anywhere that was not Rumald's piercing gaze.
Frustrated and far beyond the end of his tether, Rumald grabbed the back of the Mayor's head and slammed him, face first, down into the hard desk. The Mayor yelled out, begging Rumald as he was lifted off the desk and slammed again, with Rumald adding his body weight behind the force.
"PLEASE!" The Mayor cried with Rumald pinning his face into the desk.
Bending over, Rumald hissed into the Mayor's ear. "Please?!" By the Mayor's hair, he picked up the Mayor's head and smashed his face into the table, earning himself a loud cry of pain and the distinct sound of the Mayor's nose breaking. "Please, what?"
"It's out of my hands!" The Mayor pleaded.
Sadly, it was very much the truth. With Cora being the treasurer, she controlled all funding and could sway the council more easily than Rumald ever could. The town's purse strings were very much in Cora's hands and there was nothing, he could do, to get them out of her grasp. She had an imagery noose around Belle's neck and he was inadequate to do anything about it. Leaning heavily onto the Mayor's head, Rumald pictured it was Cora underneath his hands, whose thick black blood was oozing onto the surface of the desk. The Mayor let out an horrendous cry, beating his hands onto the desk, at Rumald, clawing at the hands on his head.
A thought struck Rumald. Cora only had power over Belle, as long as the town owned the library and Belle was an employee of the town. If he could take ownership of the library and Belle's contract with the town, Cora would not have the power to hurt her. His grip on the Mayor relented slightly, the shift of weight caused the Mayor to curse underneath him. He could easily take Belle's contract on and give her a pay raise as well, easing her money worries and giving her ample, so she could move out of Granny's and get her own place.
Buying the library would be trickier. Rumald had already invested, so much of his capital into the old picture house, securing the completion date with inflated wages and a hefty bonus. Without sitting down, looking through the figures and weighing up his options, he was not sure, whether he could stretch to buy the building outright. His frustration flared again and he lifted the malleable Mayor, thumping him with his full weight into the desk again.
"Please! Rumald!" The Mayor sobbed. "Stop!"
He threw the Mayor off the desk, back into his chair. Stumbling and floundering his arms as he fell back into his chair, his face was smeared in his own blood, thick and black, covering his chin and smudged up the side of his face. Rumald took a step back, avoiding the bloody mess on the edge of the desk, dripping onto the shiny floor.
"Since the treasurer has deemed the library to be a money pit, then I propose to buy it from the town." Rumald stated, calmly, taking a couple of steps away from the mess on the floor.
The Mayor made a repulsive snort nose and coughed before spitting something onto the floor. "I can't do that! It's a public owned building!"
Grabbing the computer monitor, Rumald shoved it off the edge of the desk, causing the Mayor to jump and scramble away from his desk and Rumald, backing himself into the corner of the room until his back hit the wall of filing cabinets. "Rumald, please!"
Rumald stalked over to the Mayor, backing him further into pressing his back flush with the cabinets. "Town charter allows for assets to be sold, if the council has determined, there's insufficient funds to maintain the town."
"Yes, but…" The Mayor reached out, grasping helplessly at the metal draw handles.
"Your treasurer has concluded the library is a liability to the town." Rumald affirmed, then grabbed the Mayor by his throat, his grip slipped because of the blood, so he tightened his fingers, telling the Mayor. "You're going to sell me the library and transfer Miss French's employment contract to me. You'll have the paperwork, drawn up by the end of today."
"Rumald, be serious! That's not possible!" The pitiful man pleaded.
Angling himself, pressing his bodyweight behind his hand, Rumald restricted the Mayor's windpipe, squeezing the delicate pipe, grinning as the Mayor struggled to wheeze for breath. "You will do as I've said, Trevor." Sprittled flew over the Mayor's face as Rumald leered into his face. "Otherwise, you'll regret it later, when I come back and break more than just your nose."
Without warning, Rumald let go of him and the Mayor slumped lifelessly down onto the floor, landing in a heap at Rumald's feet. Disgusted with the sniffling worm at his feet, he shook his head as he walked away, removing his gloves, covered in the Mayor's blood. They lightly thudded into the bottom of the trash, when he dumped them, glancing back at the Mayor, gasping for breath and clutching at his throat, blood still dripping off his face. The sight did not please him. Rumald took no pleasure in what he had done and felt sick at the thought of Belle finding out. He wanted to be a better man for her. All his hardwork was being turned upside down on its head.
Stuttering out of the Mayor's office, Rumald glanced at Arlene's desk, finding the woman was not there, and headed out of the outer office into the hallway. The town hall was never nosiy. Hardly anyone worked there, unless there was a council or town meeting, or an event being held in the hall downstairs. Today though, it seemed deathly quiet as Rumald strode along the hallway, back down the stairs and through the main entrance.
Outside, Rumald stopped and sucked in a deep breath. It would have been so easy, to let himself go, releasing the tight elastic band of his temper and frustration, and use the Mayor as an instrument to destroy his office. He would not be the first person, and possibly not the last person, Rumald had flung around a room, beating them into cooperation, pounding the inevitable truth that they would conform, to whatever was being requested: money, services or punishment. Those days, Rumald had tried to leave back in Scotland, glad his aunts had saved him from those dark times. And this was another reason, why Cora was a bad influence on him, because she knew his past and what buttons to press. He had wanted to leave those days behind him, for the sake of his son, and here he was, ruining himself for her.
He shook his head at himself, convincing himself, that it would be worth it, once he had spoiled her plans and they could all go back to living their lives in peace. It was a nice dream to have, as Rumald tucked his hands into the pockets of his overcoat, starting for the sidewalk. A future, where he and Belle could be together, without anyone interfering in their affairs. A child or two, he thought with a cheeky smile.
His phone rung, disturbing his pleasant thoughts. Holding open his overcoat, Rumald noticed, there were spots of blood staining his lilac shirt and dark purple tie. He pouted his lips as he pulled out his phone, noting to change his shirt and tie at the shop, while he slid his thumb across his phone.
"Gold." He answered, lifting his tie to inspect the marks.
"Sorry, it's taken me so long, sir." Dove told him.
Rumald blew out a frustrated, but relieved, breath. "Dove, finally, what have you found out?"
"It's took some digging, but Mrs Mills is bedding one of the executives at Neal's work." Dove informed him. "She's also bought the building, where Neal has an apartment. She's been setting this up for a while, sir."
With the information, he had learnt from the Mayor and from Dove, Rumald frown. He had suspected, this little farce had started, when he had seen Cora in New York. She must have been planning all of this, since they had seen each other in Boston, at the dance competition. Rubbing a hand across his forehead, Rumald could not get his head around, why she would suddenly want to do this. After all this time, why would Cora want him back as her dance partner?
Dropping his hand and his line of thought, Rumald said, turning the corner to head to his shop. "What about Regina?"
"From what I've managed to find, Mrs Mills is concentrating her efforts on foiling Miss Mills exhibition and her plans to expand." Dove said.
"Right, well as long as we keep the picture house on schedule, the exhibition will go ahead as planned." Rumald paused, thinking of Regina's future plans for the studio. "I'm not going to worry about her expansion plans. That's not my concern right now."
"Yes, sir." Dove agreed with him.
Rumald dug in his pocket for his keys as he instructed Dove. "Concentrate on Neal. I've got Regina and Belle covered. Find out, what that bitch has planned for my son."
"Of course, sir." Dove ended the call.
Slipping his phone back into the inside pocket, Rumald had really hoped after a week, Dove would have had more than a secret affair, a frivolous endnote of ownership and a known fact of Cora's plan, that was already underway. What he needed, was her intent. It was all good, telling him these things, but without knowing what Cora intended to do, left him open to the unknown.
The bell above his shop door, tinkled as he entered and jangled when he closed the door. Rumald pocketed his keys, whilst he headed through the shop and into the backroom, straight to the cabinet, where he kept all his financials and the ledgers. He stripped out of his overcoat, throwing it ceremonially at the workbench, uncaring if it actually landed on the bench as he pulled out his financials and the ledgers. Hugging them to his chest, Rumald went to his workbench and dumped the contents of his arms. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and shrugged out of it, tossing it onto the bench, while he shifted threw the pile for his bank statements.
Raising his leg to step over his stool and sit down onto it, Rumald flicked through the pages of his statements, whilst he unbuttoned his waistcoat. He shrugged it from his shoulders and laid it on his suit jacket, sighing at the large dent, the old picture house had taken out of his business account. His tie loosened easily and slipped from around his neck as he grabbed the ledger for his debtors. Calling in the debts would not help immediately, but at least, if he had an idea which ones he could call in sooner or had missed a payment lately, he could spend the afternoon chasing debts and rent. He was resisting going to the bank for the capital. That was a last resort.
In the front of the shop, Rumald heard the bell tinkled and a faint call of 'It's only me'. Surprised, he lifted his gaze to the curtained doorway, in time to see it drawn back and Belle slipped through, smiling as she held up a white paper bag, Granny's logo printed on the side.
"I thought I'd pop in with some lunch." She shared, waving the bag at him to emphasise her point.
Breathing in, he sat up on his stool, watching her as she came into the room and approached the other side of the bench. "Bit early for lunch. Hungry already?"
"Just a bit." Belle's smile pushed her cheeks further back as she deposited the bag of Granny's on the workbench and started to remove her coat.
"You should've called. I would've met you at Granny's." He told her as she laid her coat onto the other workbench, putting her handbag on top of it.
"Yes, I could have." She agreed with him, walking around the end of the workbench, and slung her arms around his neck, pressing herself against his side. "But then I couldn't have done this." She whispered into his ear before she captured his lips.
His hand snaked to the back of her head, threading his fingers into her hair, as he gladly returned her kiss and wrapped his other arm around her waist. His chest was tight as he kissed her. Not from being breathless, but from the lies he was telling her, the things he was keeping and doing behind her back. She would be disappointed, if she knew what he had been doing less than an hour ago. What the hands holding her, caressing her, had done to the town's Mayor. Rumald doubted, she would have accepted his embrace, if she knew what had taken place two blocks away in the town hall. What the man, she claimed to love, had done, excusing his behaviour with the line, 'that it was all for her'.
Belle pulled back, breaking their kiss, and Rumald thought, for a second, that she had heard his thoughts until she said. "I've been thinking about kissing you all morning."
"One night away from me and you spend the morning, thinking about kissing me. I wonder what would happen, if it was more than a night." He teased, rubbing his hand up and down her back, smiling at her.
"I dread to think." She joked back as her gaze was caught by something on his chest. "What's that on your shirt?"
His head dropped, inspecting the dried spots of blood on shirt, a clear path, down the front of his shirt, where his tie had been. "Oh, it's nothing." He lied, taking his hand from the back of her head to smooth down the front of his shirt. "Just some paint. I popped in to the picture house earlier." Absently, he gestured to himself. "Must have walked pass and some flicks of paint got on my shirt and tie."
"Looks more… Like blood." Belle remarked, squinting at the marks.
"Well, it isn't mine." He chuckled, distracting her by waving off her attention, and began to undo his shirt. "Could you get me a clean shirt from the bottom cupboard of the cabinet?"
"In a minute, I will. First," She swatted his hands away and took up the task of unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm going to indulge myself."
His eyebrows pushed up his brow. "Really, Miss French?" He grinned at her as he clasped the back of her head, bringing her closer, whilst he asked. "And how are you going to indulge yourself?"
Instead of answering him, Belle leaned into him and kissed him, while she tugged his shirt out of his trousers, continuing to remove his shirt. When she had his shirt open, Rumald swivelled on his stool, forgetting the bank statements and ledgers on the workbench, cupping Belle's face between his hands as he stepped off his stool into her, bumping her to step back into the bench.