A/N: Thanks for all your beautiful reviews! They motivated me a lot :)

XV

TEMPTING DEATH

June 8th, 1931

I just got back from the company. I'm exhausted, so I won't go too long writing stupidity.

Today I convinced myself that I don't work in a family business, but I do it in a committee of witches who are knowledgeable about everything and bold enough to believe that they have the power to investigate other people's affairs and accuse with arrogance.

I thought my only problem this Monday would be Lizzie Shelby, but to my surprise she was the least annoying headache. I had to deal with the rest of Thomas's family, with people I had only seen once since taking this job but who seem to know me better than I know them.

I don't know if such a thing would have to worry me, offend me or piss me off but it definitely does not generate in me any pleasant feeling.

I'll start at the beginning, recounting the only thing that had disturbed my sleep since Saturday: my encounter with Lizzie.

It was rather recently that I had arrived at the offices, and after greeting Thomas with a clandestine kiss, I went to my desk, praying I had something to do. I knew that this Monday would be eternal not only because I had not gone to work for several weeks, but also because I was expecting for something bad to happen. Unfortunately for me, and as usual, I had no more work to do than organize Thomas's political schedule, so after noticing that he would be leaving for London again next week, I turned to my poetry.

I was trying to finish the poem I had promised Thomas a month ago and, as if my mind wasn't already upset enough, Lizzie Shelby showed up at my secretary, wearing a beautiful silver dress that sifted around her slim body, made of very fine silk from what I could assume.

Our eyes met. Mine would surely denote a million and a half emotions, but hers was nonetheless inert and muted. Her clear and feline eyes were opaque and when she looked at me she did not let me see an iota of what was going through her head. She passed me completely ignoring me, as if I were part of the furniture, and entered Thomas's office without knocking. A trail of perfume flooded my secretariat and unwarranted jealousy settled in my soul: yes, I, Thomas's mistress, was jealous of his wife and feared what might happen inside that office.

Irrationally, I made up my mind to knock on the door with no excuse of any kind, even knowing what such a thing could mean. The indifferent attitude of Lizzie had struck me, since I had her for a passionate woman, and although my actions were the equivalent of provoking a bull wearing red, I approached the double doors, a victim of stupidity.

Just as I raised my fist to hit the mahogany wood, the presence of someone else in my secretary saved me from making that mistake. Turning my head, I denoted the figure of Thomas's cousin, Michael.

"Good morning, Olivia", Michael greeted. His face was serious.

"Good morning, Mr. Gray". Michael's presence there dislodged me, since until that moment, he had never visited Thomas in his office.

"Could I speak to my cousin?"

"He's with his wife", I said, adjusting my skirt. "You can wait here if you want".

I saw Michael shrug and, fully familiar with the place, he walked over to the table where I had the kettle and made himself a cup of tea that he poured himself.

"The tea must be cold by now", I communicated somewhat embarrassed as I watched him take a sip. "I'll make another one for you", I added, approaching but Michael stopped me by showing me the palm of his hand.

"What happened with Oswald Mosley in this office?", he asked, suddenly.

I was obnoxious at that question. I would have expected any kind of reproach referred to the cold and bitter tea he was drinking, but never in my life did I imagine that, in a rather abrupt way, he would bring the memory of Mosley to my head. The reminiscence made me shudder and there I was aware again that I still couldn't get over the feel of his disgusting, slimy tongue on my skin.

"Mr. Mosley ... behaved indecently", I said. I witnessed how Michael did not like my words.

"What did he do to you?" Michael took another sip of the tea. His attitude made me unsettled again.

"He tried to rape me", I answered quietly. For some reason, I was embarrassed to disclose such a situation, when in fact the one who should be ashamed was that scum. I knew the right thing to do would have been to shout it from the rooftops, but how can I hope not to feel questioned in a world made and led by men like Mosley?

"Then it's true", Michael agreed to himself. "When I found out, I couldn't believe it. I couldn't imagine Tommy sparing the life of a guy who tried to rape his mistress in his own office".

I raised an eyebrow at Michael's statement. It didn't strike me at all that he, like the rest of the Shelbys, was aware of my relationship with Thomas, since apparently the novelty had spread through the mouths of family members as easily as flames run down a powder road. I decided to ignore those words and concentrated on the observation that Thomas's cousin had made regarding him.

"I was the one who stopped Thomas from killing Mr. Mosley", I said, seeking to cleanse the image of the man I love. The dislike both cousins had for each other was quite obvious.

"Why?" Michael wanted to know. He began pacing my secretariat with the cup of tea until he stood in front of the window that was behind my desk.

"Don't you think murdering a man like Mosley inside our offices would have been a bad image for the company?"

I saw Michael give a slight smile when he heard me.

"I doubt you thought about the image of the company at the time, Olivia", he snapped. "You did it for Tommy, didn't you? To save him". Seeing me nod, Michael smiled even more. Before my eyes, he was mocking me. "You think you saved Tommy; you're convinced of it. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there's no one on this earth capable of saving a man who is already lost. The only thing you did by preventing Tommy from killing Mosley was, unfortunately, saving the latter and condemning all of us to continue to endure his existence".

Michael Gray was younger than me by a couple of years, or so I understood, but his maturity in speaking and his confident bearing made him look like a wise connoisseur of all the truths in the world. I felt an idiot when I heard him because that was what he wanted to make me feel, although I was far from regretting my actions.

"Thomas was going to ruin himself if he killed that man..."

"Thomas has wanted to kill that man for years", Michael cut me off and corrected me in turn. "You prevented him from fulfilling his greatest mission, from losing an opportunity that he will never show again, and from his enemy knowing that Tom is capable of killing him if he wants to. Now Mosley is going to try to eliminate Tommy to protect himself, and to be honest..." he took another sip of the cold tea "I don't know if you didn't do it on purpose".

Disoriented, I cocked my head and repeated in my mind what Michael had told me.

"What do you mean?"

"There's a traitor among us". I couldn't help but widen my eyes when I learned Michael had suspicions about me. "We've known it for a long time. Someone sells information about our businesses and our family to Mosley's people".

"Mr. Gray, you offend me". I was scared and didn't know why. I was completely innocent of what that man accused me of. "I've been working here for just a month and a half..."

"But you've known Ada since 1923, right?" Michael interrupted me again and before I could defend myself, he brought his eyes to my desk and with a frown, took my notebook of poems, which I had left open. "What is this?"

"I've known Ada since 1923, it's true, but I didn't find out about her family until recently and..."

"What is this, Olivia?", Michael insisted, resorting to his mania for interrupting me. I felt my face burn with the anger caused by not being able to defend myself against something that was unfairly attributed to me.

"My poetry notebook". I was agitated.

Michael read for a couple of seconds and I walked over with the intention of snatching my notebook from him. I hate having my writings read without my permission...

/

"Mr. Shelby", the nurse had stopped, "I don't think I must be reading this".

Tommy shifted a bit on the gurney and his body ached. He had two broken ribs and a bandaged head. A cotton ball was covering his right eye from which, just a couple of hours ago, they managed to remove a piece of glass that he had embedded in the eyelid.

He had been involved in a car accident the morning he left Ada's house, who knows how many days ago. His desperation to get to Small Heath led him to get in the way of another car and misfortune had happened. The condition of both vehicles turned out to be regrettable and the other driver died on the spot. All the doctors took the trouble to make Tommy known how lucky he was to be alive.

Once again, life was a selfish whore and it clung to him, giving him no chance to leave that shitty world.

"Don't worry. She won't mind you reading it", Tommy said to the nurse with bruised lips. Tiny crystals are nailed to every inch of his face. "She's dead".

The nurse didn't look convinced and it was to be expected. Even Tommy didn't believe what he was saying.

/

Michael read for a couple of seconds and I walked over with the intention of snatching my notebook from him. I hate having my writings read without my permission. When he sensed that I was heading towards him, he raised his eyes to meet mine.

"'Born to lose'?" That was the title of the poem I couldn't finish. "Is this poem for Tommy?"

"Yes. It's for Thomas", I agreed, annoyed. "My intention was for Thomas to read it before anyone else but you have sabotaged my expectations with your audacity", I attacked, not caring about the fact that I was talking to the President of the company.

"I'm sorry", he apologized nonchalantly. Michael really didn't care what he was saying to me. "Anyway, from what I can read, it's not finished", he observed, rereading.

Upset, I took the notebook out of his hands and pressed it to my chest, drunk with mistrust.

"I can't finish it".

"Why?" Michael wanted to know, and at that question, I heard true curiosity in his voice.

Before I could answer anything to him, the double wooden door that I had been about to knock, opened and Lizzie crossed the portal of it. Apparently, she was determined to ignore me again but the presence of Michael dislodged her and she stopped next to me, in order to speak to the man who was still drinking his tea.

"Michael? What are you doing here?"

"I came to speak to my cousin, Liz. Oh, don't worry". Michael waved his hands. "We're not going to argue, so you don't need to stay".

"I remind you that Tom is armed", Lizzie warned in a whisper. "What about you?"

"I'm always armed"

"This isn't good", Thomas's wife observed and after she sighed angrily, she turned her attention to me. Astonishment made me jump. "Olivia, stay in Thomas' office and make sure those two don't kill each other. If you see things get complicated, call me".

"We don't need a babysitter", Michael interjected before I could even react. "Also, why don't you stay?"

"Because Tom's secretary and confidant is Olivia", Lizzie snapped, her jaw clenched. "I'm just his wife", she added bitterly and left the secretariat, not giving me the opportunity to speak or express an opinion.

Michael put the cup down on my desk and headed toward Thomas' office. Not knowing very well what to do, I followed in his footsteps, and we both entered the place.

Seeing the two of us, Thomas seemed confused and put on his glasses to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. He looked at us both; first, to Michael, who with all the impudence in the world had sat in front of him without saying a word, and then he looked at me, wondering with his silence what the hell was going on. I shook my head, implying that I had no knowledge of anything at all.

"Michael?" Thomas seemed annoyed by the simple fact that his cousin was breathing the same air as him.

"I need to talk to you, Tom, and your wife insisted that Olivia make sure we don't draw our guns", Michael explained, picking up a cigarette. "I consider that kind of care unnecessary since I think we're old enough to talk without shooting each other".

"You can go, Olivia", Thomas told me and, somewhat embarrassed, I turned around and started to leave.

"Anyway", Michael hastened to speak, "I think your secretary should stay. Not to take care of us, but because I have come to talk to you about her and it would be very unkind to speak of a lady when she isn't present".

I stopped in my tracks and with my back to those two, I waited for Thomas to say something. I couldn't see his face but I knew that Thomas' expression was one of displeasure and how long it took him to respond, it told me that his cousin's attitude bothered him to unsuspected levels.

"Stay, Olivia". Now Thomas was telling me to stay there and I had no choice but to turn on my heel. "Sit down", he gestured to the other empty chair next to Michael. "You're not going to stand there".

Silent and unflappable, I took a seat where indicated. I didn't want to be there even though a part of me knew that if those two were left alone, the chances of things unleashing a tragic end were pretty high. Lizzie and I shared our fear of Thomas's well-known irascibility and Michael's haughty airs, both of which were like a spark to a lot of petrol. Furthermore, I was certain that Michael's intention was to inform his cousin of his unfounded suspicions regarding my alliance with Mosley.

"Good". Michael cleared his throat. "I know you don't want to see me in your offices but there are things that should be discussed face to face".

"Get to the point", Thomas demanded, his eyes still on the man in front of him.

"Olivia," to my surprise, Michael turned to me, "wouldn't you like to be the one to inform Tom?"

"Why I should?", I attacked passively, as I shrugged. "I told you, Mr. Gray, you have no reason to suspect me. Your theory is baseless and ridiculous, if I may be bold".

Michael chuckled and tobacco smoke came out of his nostrils.

"Could one of you tell me what the fuck is going on?", Thomas was beginning to lose patience.

"I'll have to do it myself, as much as I dislike having to ruin your honeymoon". Michael reached for the ashtray and shook the cigarette out of the smoking ash. He seemed very calm, and so I knew that he was not entirely aware of what he was about to raise. "I have sufficient reason to believe that the traitor that swarms among us, is this woman".

Thomas was silent, staring at his cousin with his mouth half open and eyes narrowed. Fear and expectation raised the skin on my legs: a while ago, I said that Ada was more dangerous quiet than when she decided to insult and now I can assure that this also applies to her brother.

"What the hell do you mean?"

"I mean..."

"Oh, I know". Thomas spoke over Michael, cutting him off. His tone of voice was pure sarcasm. "You're looking for a culprit because you know all the clues so far point to your fucking wife".

A shiver ran down my spine. I remembered Gina, as I had met her at the board meeting. She was elegant, fine, beautiful. Her golden hair enhanced her brown eyes. Her voice was rough like a purr. I had a hard time believing that a woman with that presence would stoop and be a filthy spy for Oswald Mosley.

After I managed to dissipate my stupefaction a bit, I glanced at Michael out of the corner of my eye and caught a glimpse of his face puckered with anger.

"Gina would never betray me", Michael muttered.

"And Olivia would never betray me", Thomas countered.

"You've known her for two months, why are you so sure?"

"Should I remind you that you brought Gina into this family just a month and a half after you met her?"

"She was pregnant", Michael defended himself.

"And?", Thomas scoffed at the other man. "It wouldn't have been the first time you've made a woman have an abortion, why didn't you do the same with Gina?"

Shocked, I clenched my fists in my lap. Until that moment, I never would have guessed that Michael was the kind of man who, after getting a woman pregnant, would brazenly propose that she have an abortion.

"I didn't do the same with Gina because I loved her", Michael tried to justify himself. The memory of his infamous action seemed to increase his fury.

"Congratulations", Thomas downplayed the anger his cousin exuded and turned to sarcasm again, "but you've been here for like five minutes, wasting my time and patience, and so far you haven't said anything but bullshit" .

"Bullshit? There's a traitor among us, Tom", Michael insisted. He was still angry.

"Yes, and it's not Olivia".

"It's not Gina either. Who is the traitor, then?", Michael questioned, his eyes blazing with hatred.

"That's a good question". Thomas sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Maybe it's you"

I never believed in energies or spiritism but I have to confess that at that moment I witnessed how everything around me felt cold and all my alarms went off. When Thomas and Michael rose to their feet in unison, facing each other, I followed suit, as if my presence could prevent some misfortune. Lizzie had been concerned that those two were alone, and she was rightly so; I understood that in front of me I had two men who hated each other and who were quite capable of killing each other if they were drawn into it.

I picked up the phone on Thomas's desk and before I could dial the internal number for Lizzie's office, someone else entered the room, without knocking. At the time, I swore it was Thomas's wife, but the aura I recognized made my blood run cold and made me small, as if I were a tiny and insignificant being. When I turned around, I saw that standing in the middle of the office was Gina, wearing furs.

"Well, I was just in time", the woman observed nonchalantly. She was oblivious to the gravity of the situation. "Unfortunately, you're going to have your duel to the death suspended. Darling", she called Michael, "Morgan needs to be taken to the doctor".

Michael didn't take his eyes off Thomas's. They kept looking at each other.

"Couldn't you take care of that?", Michael questioned.

"No I can't". Gina sighed. "Last time, I was the one who took him to the doctor. Now it is your turn".

I witnessed Michael give in with surprising ease to his wife and, abandoning his silent duel with Thomas, he turned and left. Gina didn't follow in Michael's footsteps, but she stood there, arms crossed, watching Thomas and me as if we were suddenly a couple of lice.

"Next time, time will not be on your side, Thomas", Gina said, "and he will kill you in front of your... mistress". Gina looked at me in disgust. I knew that the word she had wanted to use had been 'whore'.

"What makes you think I'm not the one who is going to kill him?" Thomas hated Michael's wife far more than he hated Michael.

"You're old, Tom", Gina prompted, feigning a much higher voice. "Old and almost blind. Your reflexes cannot be compared with those of Michael, who has an impressive speed to draw his gun". I noticed a double meaning in those words.

"Do you know who taught your fucking husband to use a gun?" Thomas pointed to himself. "Me. It was me, Gina. Michael owes me everything he is. If he weren't for me, he would continue to plow the land of his adoptive family and his only ambition would be not to starve next winter".

Gina's response was to stifle a laugh and adjusting the fox fur that hung from her thin neck, she left, leaving Thomas and me alone.

"Tom", I hastened to get Thomas's attention and seeing that he was blinded with fury, I grabbed his face and forced him to look at me. "Relax. What those two want is to rile you".

"I'm tired, Ollie", he confessed suddenly, and hugged me, resting his head on my shoulder. "I'm tired of all this shit".

"Why don't you get out of this business, Tom?" I asked, partly with the intention of soothing his soul; partly to answer a question I'd been asking myself for a long time. "You're no longer in the board of directors and you have enough money to live without working. You should retire".

"I can't retire", Thomas just answered.

"Why?", I insisted. I had the need to know what tied him to this nefarious and dangerous world.

"This is the only thing I know", he said. "This is my life. I'm not good at anything other than being a mobster, Ollie. If I retire, if I spend too much time at home alone or with Lizzie…", he stopped and I heard him swallow hard.

"Are you afraid of yourself? Of what you can get to do?", I read his mind.

"Yes".

In that monosyllable I detected that he would have liked to tell me something else but I knew not to press him. I limited myself to caressing the back of his neck while I felt his breathing calm down and, as I wandered my eyes over the surface of the desk, among the pile of papers, I visualized a small dark blue bottle that I soon recognized: I myself had been drinking laudanum to calm my jittery nerves, but I was unaware that Thomas drank it too.

Something inside me told me that no doctor had prescribed the opioid for him and that it was very likely that he was abusing of it.

/

"Do you have a problem with opiate abuse, Mr. Shelby?" Once again, the nurse stopped reading, visibly concerned. "You never communicated such a thing to us".

Tommy wanted to laugh but the excruciating pain on his face stopped him. They had been giving him morphine and it was like heaven. Not only did it make physical suffering more tolerable, but it also numbed his mind, preventing him from being aware of the betrayal of which he believed himself to be a victim.

Tommy didn't want to think; if he did, he would force himself out of that hospital and crawl, if necessary, to the brick house on Small Heath, where he had never been able to go.

"Keep reading, Martha", he ordered the nurse.

"Stop torturing that poor woman", a familiar voice spoke to him from the door.

Through his only available eye, Tommy visualized Ada. She had her arms crossed and guilt plastered on her face. Until that moment, no one in his family had come to see him, and Tommy knew that they did not because such a thing would imply for them having to give an explanation.

"Well" Tommy said through a dry throat. He needed a whiskey. "I must be about to die. Only that would explain your visit".

"Shut the fuck up, drama king", Ada cursed, and nodding to the nurse, she motioned for her to leave. "I came because Pol got drunk and I was able to sneak up here".

"Why wouldn't Polly let you visit your dying brother?", asked Tommy sarcastically.

"She doesn't want me to talk to you," Ada shrugged, "but after you had that accident, I told myself that if I don't bring you up to speed, you'll end up killing yourself and that may be good for you but it won't be for us". Tommy witnessed her sister take a deep breath and lick her lips, showing off her courage. "Tom, you've had enough. I have come to tell you the truth".