Part XIV: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

"...A little party never killed nobody, so we gon' dance until we drop
A little party never killed nobody, right here, right now's all we got

Islands, diamonds, trips around the world
Don't mean a thing if I ain't your girl

A little party never killed nobody, so we gon' dance until we drop
A little party never killed nobody, right here, right now's all we got..."

~ "A Little Party Never Killed Nobody (All We Got) - Fergie, Q-Tip & Goonrock

One Week Later

Sunday

June 10, 1923

Gatsby's predictions about how Rebecca would handle the situation were spot on.

She'd thrown herself into planning Elizabeth and Nick's reception that they would host at the end of the month with more gusto than he'd ever seen. From dawn 'til dusk, Rebecca worked tirelessly with Mrs. Miller, Tilly, and Mr. Crawley to order things and prepare the house exactly how she wanted it. Make-up could expertly hide the bruises in the light of day, but Gatsby knew that the night was a whole different story. Each day, Rebecca looked more and more exhausted. Tilly had confided to Mrs. Miller, who in turn had turned the information over to him, that Rebecca wasn't sleeping well. Nightmares plagued her and twice in the past week, Gatsby had found Rebecca sleeplessly wondering the halls. She would stare at some of the painting that lined the hallways before moving on to another room or object. Each time he approached her, Rebecca would faithfully tell him that nothing was wrong. The only problem was that she couldn't sleep.

Watching her now as Tilly helped her into white lace gloves, Gatsby could see the pattern. When they'd first gotten married and he'd rejected her brutally, Rebecca had thrown herself into her various charities and organizations. It had been all she had and she'd clung to it with a strength he hardly knew she possessed. When she'd learned the truth about his affair with Daisy, Rebecca had again thrown herself into something, or rather someone. Matthew Spring had become the lifeline that Rebecca had clung to during those long difficult months. Now, Rebecca was throwing herself into planning Elizabeth's reception and wedding as much as she possibly could. Elizabeth's wedding was the only thing she had to cling to and Gatsby was sure that it was the only thing that made her get out of bed in the morning.

It was a pattern that Gatsby couldn't believe he'd missed, but it was a pattern that he understood. Not having to face reality was easier for Rebecca than having to actually deal with the painful events of life. Throwing herself into charity meant that she didn't have to feel the humiliation of being turned away by her own husband. By hiding from the problem, Rebecca never had to deal with the emotions of it. She could bury it away and keep it locked tightly in a box somewhere deep inside her. Turning to Matthew gave her an outlet that she'd never experienced before when she'd been confronted with the horrifying reality of her husband's affair. Matthew had taught Rebecca physical pleasure and Gatsby was sure, Rebecca had used that new found knowledge and drowned herself away in physical feelings instead of letting herself feel her own emotions. Again, she'd buried away her pain and she hadn't let it reach the surface. Now, she was using the wedding as an escape from her trauma. It was far easier to pick out napkins and table settings than it was to face the reality of what Ares had done to her.

There was only one problem Gatsby could see with Rebecca's method of coping.

Eventually, the box that she kept all her emotions locked away in, would one day break. One day, all those emotions that for so long Rebecca kept buried deep inside, would come floating back to the surface and she'd be left feeling everything that for so long she'd suppressed. Just from her behavior and the sleepless nights, Gatsby knew that the day was coming soon. He'd seen the same pattern in his own mother and it had destroyed her in the end. She hadn't been able to cope with anything and he feared Rebecca would be the same. He feared she'd turn into the same catatonic woman his mother had become after the death of her child.

Accepting his Darby hat from Crawley, Gatsby nodded at the young servant boy who opened the front door. Nick stood on the second to last step looking out at the bay. Turning to see that Rebecca was ready to leave, Gatsby let her exit first before following her down the steps. She passed Nick without a word and let Weatherbee, Gatsby's personal driver, hand her into the dark blue coupe. The car was Gatsby's second car that was rarely used. Today, however, Gatsby had ordered it up. They weren't going to for a joy ride in the country and Gatsby had already sold the Rolls Royce that had once been Rebecca's. The blue coupe had been the only choice and with Nick, the back would be a tight fit.

"Old sport," Gatsby greeted Nick quietly. "Today is the day."

Nick only nodded and took his hands out of his pocket. Gatsby did a double take as he stared down at the gold band that rested on Nick's ring finger. The urge to violently hit Nick was overwhelming for a moment as he stared.

"I married her last night, Jay," Nick told him. "It couldn't wait any longer. Elizabeth and I were both in agreement on this. Her maid, Violet, was our witness."

Gatsby groaned out loud.

The plan had originally been to tell Mr. and Mrs. Harper that Nick was going to marry their youngest daughter. Now, they were going to have to explain that Elizabeth had married Nick Carraway in a secret ceremony the night before. Not bothering to say anything, Gatsby turned and began to walk towards the blue car.

"Jay!" Nick called as he followed quickly. "I know you're not happy—"

"Not happy is the understatement of the year," Gatsby hissed as he turned around and pointed his finger at Nick. "Rebecca has been corresponding with her mother about you while Elizabeth has been singing your praises left and right like a bird. We've been building up this moment. Now, instead of telling Katherine Harper that her youngest daughter is engaged, we're going to drop a bomb on both Edward and Katherine and tell them that you married their daughter in a secret ceremony with the maid as witness. God only knows what Katherine will do and I can't protect you from the rage of Edward without putting myself in the line of fire. We were trying to avoid a scandal, man! Now, you and Elizabeth may just have invited it into our homes!"

"I'm sorry Jay," Nick answered in a quiet tone. "We were thinking of the baby."

"New Yorkers aren't dumb. They will put two and two together and get four! Sit in the front with Weatherbee."

Shaking his head, Gatsby turned and slipped into the car. Next to him, Rebecca wore a frown on her elegantly painted red lips. Looking at Gatsby, she held her hands together and watched him with an air of nervousness.

"What's wrong?" she asked as Nick slipped into the passenger seat next to Weatherbee.

"We have a slight complication," Gatsby told her. "Nick married Elizabeth last night."


Sitting in her mother's drawing room, Rebecca held her saucer and cup of tea in her hands as she waited for Nick, Elizabeth, and her parents to return. Nick had asked for a private meeting in the library with Katherine and Edward. Elizabeth had injected herself into the situation as well, leaving Rebecca alone with Gatsby.

Seated next to her in the twin of the chair she sat in, Gatsby's legs were crossed as he drank his own tea. Silence had been their companion for the past ten minutes and in those ten minutes, Rebecca's anxiety had grown. The last time she'd been alone in the drawing room with Gatsby was before she'd married him. They'd sat and talked for hours. It was the only time she'd ever truly felt like she'd known the real Jay Gatsby. A part of her desperately wished she could go back and time and tell her younger self the truth. Reveal to her younger herself the path that was laid before if she married Jay Gatsby, but that was only a useless fantasy. She couldn't undo time. She could only pray that the conversation Nick was conducting concluded quickly.

"It's been a long time since we were in this room together."

The sound of Gatsby's voice breaking the silence forced Rebecca to look at him. His own tea cup had been set aside and his hands were crossed in his lap. The image of sophistication, Gatsby looked every inch the gentlemen he professed to be. A small voice in the back of her mind taunted her that Ares had looked like a gentlemen too. Just the thought of Ares made her hands tremble and Rebecca quickly put her own teacup and saucer down.

"Several years," she finally told him after a long pause. "That was a very long time ago."

"You surprised me then like you do now," Gatsby told her with a soft smile. "I hadn't expected Rebecca Harper to be a great lover of John Locke or Voltaire. I hadn't expected her to be interested in politics and government. I hadn't expected to meet a young woman so in love with Shakespeare."

His words caught her off guard as she stared at him. Something about his demeanor made her feel like she could trust him. His words were kind and his tone was, dare she say it, affectionate. He smiled like he was reliving a good memory and enjoying it.

"What did you expect?" she asked him. A guarded feeling came over her, but Rebecca felt curious too. Gatsby had never spoken of their courtship or any past part of their relationship.

"I wasn't expecting a woman who enjoyed a good debate," he smiled fondly. "I was expecting to sit here and listen to you go on and on about the latest fashion trend or something. I wasn't prepared when you asked me what I thought of John Locke's philosophy and the American founding."

Remembering Gatsby's flabbergasted face from all those years ago, Rebecca couldn't help but to laugh a little at the memory.

"You recovered quite well the next time you came," she reminded him with a smile. "It was very impressive that you'd come back at all and had studied his writings just for me. I was quite flattered."

"I realized then that I would have to make sure I was prepared for every possible topic. It was quite nerve wracking sometimes," he admitted.

Gatsby's words only made Rebecca laugh more, "You? Nervous? I don't believe you for a moment!"

"I was!" he defended with a smile. "Now, when it came to Shakespeare, I felt confident. That was a topic I enjoyed."

Staring at him, Rebecca felt her own thoughts shift as she relived the memories Gatsby had stirred up.

"Was it all true?" she asked him quietly. "Did you really like the things I liked Jay? Or was it a ploy? Did you only tell what I wanted to hear so I would marry you?"

The moment they'd been enjoying had come to end and Gatsby was quiet for a moment before he stood up. Crouching down in front of her, Gatsby took her hands in his and brushed the pads of his thumbs over her knuckles.

"Every word I ever spoke to you was true," he murmured softly to her. "You had me like a fish on a hook, Rebecca. True be told, if I hadn't been so…obsessed with Daisy…I could have easily let myself fall in love with you. I still can remember the feeling of your lips on mine that day in the park. You frightened me unlike anything else in this world. I'd rather have taken on a legion of the German army that day than have faced what I was feeling."

"I don't know if I should take that as compliment."

A smile briefly returned to Gatsby's lips, "I think then I was dangerously close to falling in love with you."

"But Daisy stopped you," Rebecca returned softly. "You love her and I long ago accepted that you will never love me."

"I loved Daisy," Gatsby told her fiercely. "I loved her. I don't love her anymore. I don't think I ever really loved her the way you think I did. She only wanted me because I showered her with gifts and she never really loved me like I thought. It's quite pathetic to think I wasted years pining after a woman I don't really want. You see, there's this other girl I've fallen for."

Rebecca slipped her hands out his grasp and shook her head, "I can't do this. I don't want to hear about the girls you've fallen for."

Standing and slipping around him, Rebecca could barely breathe. She didn't want to listen to him talk about anyone else. She'd been through enough and she wasn't sure she could endure anymore.

"I'm not talking about another woman," Gatsby said as if he could read her thoughts. "I'm not talking about anyone but you, Rebecca."

"You only feel sorry for me," she breathed as she turned to face him. "I'm poor little Rebecca again. You swept me off my feet when Mary's scandal had left my family nearly destitute and now, poor little Rebecca needs saving again and you're sweeping in. You'll drop me again if I let you pick me up and I don't think I can bear to be dropped again. Don't pick me up, Mr. Gatsby. I that know you've been kind and dare I say wonderful these past few months but please, don't do this to me again."

Before Gatsby could say anything else, the sound of yelling could be heard from the hallway.

"Don't you dare come back into my house again," Edward Harper yelled. "You scum of the earth!"

All the focus had instantly shifted from the conversation they'd been conducting. Both Gatsby and Rebecca walked to the drawing room door. Yanking it open, Rebecca looked into the foyer to see Nick being shoved to the door by an angry Edward Harper.

"Papa! Please! Stop it!" Elizabeth begged tearfully. "Please! Don't hurt him! He's my husband!"

Elizabeth's words only seemed to fan the flames of anger in Edward.

"You come into my home and announce that you've married my daughter and expect me to be understanding? How dare you!"

Everyone seemed to speak at once. Nick tried calming down Edward as Elizabeth engaged in a fierce battle with their mother. Rebecca tried to end the argument between mother and daughter as Gatsby watched, waiting to only step in if things turned violent. The argument stopped abruptly when Edward Harper took a swing at Nick. The older man's fist connected with Nick's cheek and him tumbling to the floor. Gatsby managed to intervene before Edward could hit the man again.

"Not here," Gatsby hissed as he held back his father-in-law's arm. "Not in front of your wife and daughters."

His words seemed to calm Edward and Gatsby let him go. Taking a step back, Gatsby looked to Rebecca. Her face betrayed nothing, but he could see worry and fear in her eyes. Her whole body had gone rigid and her cheeks were pale. Taking a step towards her, Gatsby only stopped when he stood next to her. Her hands were trembling. Reaching out, he covered both her hands with one of his. Her skin felt like silk under his fingertips and her hands felt cold like ice.

When Edward Harper took a step towards Nick, Gatsby felt her squeeze his hand tightly. Giving her knuckles a soft caress with his thumb, he was surprised to feel her grasp on his hand relax a little. If the moment had been any different, Gatsby would have been sure she had just trusted him. Watching his father-in-law closely, Gatsby gave Rebecca's hands a soft, affectionate squeeze. He hoped she understood his silent promise that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her or her family.

"Get out of my house," Edward told Nick calmly. "And don't come back again."

In the next moment, Elizabeth broke away from her mother's side and rushed to Nick. Helping him up, she took hold of his hand as Edward narrowed his eyes at her. Rebecca moved towards the situation, but Gatsby grabbed the inside of her elbow gently.

"Don't," he murmured in a soft tone. "This is their battle, not ours…not yet."

Looking between him and her sister for a moment, Rebecca stood silently and watched with apprehension.

"Go to your mother," Edward said again in a calm voice that was deceiving. "Now, Elizabeth, go!"

"No," she replied firmly, "I am not your little girl. I am Mrs. Carraway and if you're going to throw my husband out, you are throwing me out by extension."

"We are going to correct this problem speedily and quietly," Edward hissed. "Don't let me ever hear you call yourself that name again, Miss Harper."

"It's a little too late to try and fix things now Papa," Elizabeth reasoned. "We can't undo things."

"Nonsense! We'll simply get you both a quick and quiet divorce."

"Mr. Harper—"

"I'm with child, Papa," Elizabeth announced before Nick could finish. "I'm with child and we are going to be a very happy."

A silence descended upon the foyer as Rebecca turned her back on Nick and Elizabeth. She rolled her eyes heavenward and shook her head as Gatsby watched the scene unfolding closely.

"What?" Katherine Harper hissed as she walked to her husband's side. "You stupid, foolish girl! How could you?"

More yelling ensured and in an impulsive moment, Gatsby guided Rebecca to the drawing room door. Pulling them both inside, Gatsby closed the door behind him and blocked out the majority of the yelling. Rebecca sank down onto the closest settee and cradled her forehead in a hand.

"What a disaster," she said after a few moments. "If Nick had just—"

"Delaying wouldn't have served them well," Gatsby reasoned. "They have a child to think of."

At the mention of a child, Rebecca looked up at him through narrowed eyes, "Of course, their child had to be thought of."

Her words were dripping with sarcasm as she stood up and walked to the window. Hugging herself and staring out at the back gardens of Harper House, Rebecca shook her head.

"They wouldn't even be in this mess if it wasn't for their child," she told him. "Both she and Mary are foolish."

"Does that make us foolish by extension?" Gatsby snapped back. "After all, look at us."

The skirt of Rebecca's dress twirled around her as she turned and faced him with blazing eyes.

"Don't you dare bring up Matthew or that…that…woman," she told him with a shaky voice. "Matthew can't even have children and for all you know Daisy could be having your first born child in Paris right now. Don't you dare confuse us and them, we are different. Mary knew exactly what she was doing and Elizabeth isn't naive enough not to know how children are conceived. They both knew what was happening."

Walking towards her, Gatsby stopped in front of her and reached out. Cupping her cheek, he was close enough to her that he could smell the French perfume she'd worn on their disastrous wedding night. The scent enveloped him and teased every sense he possessed.

"Haven't you ever been carried away by passion?" he asked her quietly. "Have you never desired someone and had no thought to the consequences?"

Her jaw trembled as she looked up at him, "A woman never reveals anything. Even if I did, I would never tell you."

Moving out of his reach, Rebecca pressed herself as close as she could to the window and stared out. Her body was stiff and it only took Gatsby a moment to realize that Rebecca was truly uncomfortable with him so close to her. A few touches here and there were fine, but he was close to her. Taking a step back, Gatsby moved to sit in the chair next to her. Before either of them could say anymore, the door to the drawing room opened and a flustered Katherine Harper walked.

She looked at the both of them for a brief moment before moving over to the abandon tea tray a maid have served earlier. Rebecca moved to the settee where her mother sat making herself a cup of tea.

"Your father is furious and right full so," Katherine said quietly. "I don't know what we're going to do. Edward is convinced that we should publicly disown Elizabeth."

"That will ensure an even bigger scandal than Mary's. New York won't forget Mary so quickly if Elizabeth has a scandal as well," Rebecca reasoned.

"I tried telling Edward that, but your father is dead set on keeping with traditions."

Rebecca clenched her free hand into a fist. There were no traditions in their world. Everyone spoke about traditions and following them, but no one actually followed them. Everyone was a hypocrite, herself included and so were her parents for thinking that they could protect themselves by throwing their children under the bus.

"Maybe Mr. Gatsby could make your father see reason," Katherine said quietly. "He can make your father be reasonable. Go ask him, quickly girl!"

As Rebecca stood, Katherine Harper reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"You'll stay for dinner tonight, won't you? It will be the perfect opportunity for Mr. Gatsby to talk to Mr. Harper," the older woman babbled with a firm look. "Don't you think so?"

Giving a nod, Rebecca managed to extract herself from her mother's talons and walked slowly to Gatsby. Standing in front of him, Rebecca looked down at him. His brow was furrowed like he was deep in thought and his shoulders were tense. Whatever was going on inside Gatsby's mind, it wasn't something pleasant. The way he continually clenched his fist made Rebecca wonder exactly what he was thinking about. Gatsby must have sensed her presence after a moment because he visibly relaxed and looked at her with a soft smile. Any prior tension had left his body and brow completely. His fist relaxed and he looked up at her with a gentle look in his eye that made Rebecca wonder when the last time she'd seen Gatsby look at her so tenderly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your thoughts. My mother wants to know if you're going to do something about Nick and Elizabeth," she said softly. "Are you going to go speak to my father? Surely, you must know that he trusts your judgment beyond anything else."

Gatsby relaxed back into his seat more and gazed out the window. Shaking his head, he turned back and looked at her. There was an air of fatigue about him that lasted only a moment as he reached into his pocket.

"You're father is angry and needs time to calm down. Once he's calm, I'll talk to him," Gatsby replied in a hushed tone as he looked around her at Katherine.

"And when will that? You know she's going to send me back here if I don't give her an exact answer."

"I don't know," he told her calmly. "It could be today, it could be a week from today. I know that I'm asking a lot of you, but trust me Rebecca. Besides, if she does send you back, you're more than welcome to stay. We can make it look like we're in serious discussion and you're mother will buy it. It can't be that hard."

"My mother invited us to dinner," Rebecca sighed. "Should I accept?"

"If you want, I leave that choice entirely up to you."

With an even deeper sigh than before, Rebecca turned away and walked back to the other side of the drawing room where her mother sat nursing her tea. Settling herself down into the settee, she watched as Gatsby took a small black book from his pocket. With a small pencil, she watched as he began writing something. Fascinated, she watched as his lips moved silently with every word he wrote.

"Will you be staying for dinner?"

Katherine Harper's words jolted Rebecca out of her thoughts as she looked at her mother and accepted the teacup and saucer that was offered.

"Yes, we will," Rebecca replied. "Jay said he'd speak with Father about Nick."

"Good," Katherine answered. "I don't like what your sister did, but this family cannot endure another scandal. We have to accept Mr. Carraway into the family. It doesn't matter if we like him or not. They are married. We have to convince your father to accept the young man."

"We will endure, Mama. We always do. Don't worry about Nick or Elizabeth."


Dressed in the evening suit that his valet had sent over, Gatsby watched as the ladies left the dining room. The table was empty except for the small ash tray that Edward Harper kept next to him. A heavy smoker, Edward enjoyed a good whiskey with his smoke after dinner. Watching his father-in-law set the crystal decanter down on the snow white table cloth, Gatsby accepted the whiskey Edward poured.

"I know what you're going to say," Edward sighed as he sat down in his chair to the left of Gatsby.

"What is that?"

"I should accept Nick Carraway into the family. Cigar?"

"No, thank you," Gatsby declined as he watched Edward light the cigar. "You might not like it, Edward, but Nick is a part of the family now. There is no avoiding that."

"No avoiding it? Of course I can avoid it! The problem is that Katherine spoiled those girls," Edward Harper snapped. "She spoiled them and let them run wild. She blames me for what happened to Mary, but in the end, the only one that is blamable is her. If she'd taken more interest in her children and been a mother, maybe I would still have a middle daughter."

Gatsby kept silent. It would be far too easy to point out to Edward that he was also to blame for Mary's behavior. Edward was the young woman's father and it had been his job to protect his family. If he, however, pointed out Edward's flaw, the older man was likely to fly into a rage and any hopes of convincing him that Nick needed to be accepted publicly by the Harper's would be flushed down the drain.

"You can avoid it now, but there will be a scandal. This whole problem will blow back on you whether you want it to or not. That's generally how these things work," Gatsby sighed as he raised his small tumbler of whiskey to his lips.

"Why are you trying to convince me that I should accept Nick? What do you get out of convincing me, Jay?"

"I get to see my wife happy," he replied after having taken a drink. "I get to see her enjoy life with her last living sister and I get to secure my children's future. Times are changing, of course. They aren't, however, changing fast enough that New York will forget Mary Harper. I confess that everything I do is in the hopes that any child Rebecca and I may have, won't be tarnished by that particular scandal. If we minimize Mary's scandal to a simple fluke, the only scandal that blotches the Harper name, the chances of New York forgetting Mary increases greatly. If you reject Elizabeth and Nick, New York remembers Mary better than ever and Elizabeth's name is dragged through the mud as well as Rebecca's. I will withstand many things Edward. Rebecca's name being brought into another scandal and dragged through the mud, that is one thing I won't allow. Should you choose not to accept Nick and Elizabeth into the family and another scandal ensures, I will do all in my power to break our connection publicly and distance myself and Rebecca as much as possible for the sake of the future."

Edward frown and a flash of anger passed over his eyes. Gatsby knew he had Edward right where he wanted him. Rebecca was her father's favorite and threatening to take away his little girl, Gatsby knew Edward would consider all his options more carefully. The older man knew, his words weren't threats, but they were promises.

"Say I do accept Nick, what is to stop gossips once they figure out the reason for Elizabeth's quick marriage?" Edward asked haughtily before inhaling the cigar.

"Babies are born early all the time," Gatsby said with a shrug. "You can't predict when they'll arrive. We'll simply make sure that the public believes that Elizabeth conceived right away and had a difficult time. Maybe we'll send Nick and Elizabeth out to Westchester County. I have a country house there I can install them in until the baby is born. City air can't be good for Elizabeth right now."

"Do you really think that will keep the papers silent?" Edward demanded. "What if someone sells the story? What if another maid decides to invest in her retirement?"

"If that doesn't convince them than we'll just have to line the pockets of the right people," Gatsby replied calmly. "It doesn't take much to silence the right people. The reason your maid invested in on her retirement with Mary's scandal and sold the story was because you gave her prime opportunity. She was privy to all the details of what had happened. The way you avoid things like that is to keep your people in the dark."

"Covering for Elizabeth and Mr. Carraway doesn't excuse what they've done wrong," Edward stated with a frown.

Twisting the wedding band that he'd recently started wearing, Gatsby stared down at it only for a moment before clearing his throat. There was only one way he could convince Edward Harper to accept Nick into the family. It meant that he might very well lose Edward's good opinion of him, but Rebecca had asked him to convince her father and that was what Gatsby planned to do.

"I had an affair last year with Daisy Buchanan," he admitted as he leaned back in the elegant chair. "I hurt your daughter very deeply. I lost her trust and I don't know if I will ever get that back, Edward. I don't know if I will ever win her heart back or if she'll ever forgive me enough to try and help me fix what I've broken between us. If we're going to be honest about wrong doings Edward, your list and mine run far longer than Nick and Elizabeth's combined. If we are to crucify your own daughter and son-in-law to the papers, why don't we crucify ourselves as well? God only knows we deserve it too. The only reason why the papers don't know about my affair with Mrs. Buchanan is because of Matthew Spring's desire to protect your daughter when I chose to forsake her. If it's the papers you're worried about, I will take care of them, Edward. Have no fear. Your name won't be dragged through the mud."

"How exactly do you propose we introduce Mr. and Mrs. Carraway to society?" Edward asked quietly after a few minutes. "How do we explain a quick and quiet marriage like theirs?"

"Rebecca has been planning what should have been Mrs. Carraway's reception. Nick and Elizabeth were married by a judge, not a priest. You can still have a 'wedding' and pacify the masses. We'll just think of it as the welcoming party to the family instead."

Before Edward could respond, a knock at the door came. Bidding whoever it was to enter; Gatsby stared at the aging butler, Mr. Taylor.

"I beg your pardon for interrupting, sirs," the man said. "Mrs. Harper would like to know if you'll be joining them in the music room for cards."

"Tell her we will," Edward said as he put out his cigar. "We'll be along in a minute."

Taylor nodded and left the two men alone.

"I can see your point, Jay," Edward finally conceded after a few moments of silence, "We don't really have a choice, do we?"

"Not unless we want a repeat of Mary's scandal," Gatsby said quietly. "However wrong they were, Nick Carraway married your daughter. He did the right thing and corrected the mistakes he has made. You can't fault him for that or hold it against him. He's a good man, Edward. Just give the poor man a chance to prove himself."

Edward looked long and hard at him before tossing back his whiskey and standing up, "We best not keep the women waiting."


Wednesday

June 17, 1923

Staring out the window of Gatsby's blue car, Rebecca sighed silently as she watched the buildings pass by. Gatsby had quickly come up with a plan to ease Mr. and Mrs. Carraway into society without too much trouble. With the support of both the Harper's and the Gatsby's, Nick and Elizabeth were sure to have little trouble in society. Other families had also easily accepted the new couple, but Rebecca wasn't so sure that they'd done so willingly. She didn't want to believe the worst about Gatsby and Wolfsheim, but she knew they had something to do with the easy acceptance Nick and Elizabeth had faced.

Most of the problems that her father had predicted would happen had not happened and mostly, it was thanks to Gatsby's planning. He made sure that they'd gone to the theater and were seen at every single respectable place one could possibly think of. Along with hosting a few small dinners in the past week or so, Gatsby had spent many hours with Nick, teaching him about what was expect of him now as the Harper heir. At the party coming up at the end of the month, Edward Harper was announcing Nick as his sole successor and heir. The title frightened Nick, but Rebecca was sure that he'd be just fine in the role with both Elizabeth and Gatsby guiding him.

For herself, Rebecca had thrown herself into planning Nick and Elizabeth's party. It was her only escape from her thoughts and God only knew she needed the distraction. Every night was a constant battle inside her mind when she tried to sleep. It felt like every time she closed her eyes, Rebecca could feel Ares' hands on her skin. She could feel his teeth sinking in her flesh and she could feel his bruising grasp on her body. Just lying still, she could hear his grunts and pants in her ear as he forced himself inside her.

Closing her eyes, Rebecca did all she could to push the memory away.

While it was easier to be around people again, the memory of that night still haunted her every step. It was slowly carving a cavern inside her and she wasn't sure how to handle it. Pushing down the emotions was slowly becoming exhausting, simply because she couldn't do it much longer. Every time she pushed the feelings down, they came spiraling back up. It was an endless cycle and she desperately wanted to tell anyone what was happening. She wanted help, guidance, anything that would help her, but she was scared to say anything. Asking for help meant she'd have to tell another soul of the horrors Ares had inflicted and Rebecca was frightened that if she spoke about it, the events would become more real and vivid with each word she breathed. What was more, Rebecca didn't want to relive what Ares had done to her anymore than she already was. The burden and the shame she carried was sure to double if she spoke about it and Rebecca was sure that with time, the memory would lessen and all she would have to do was chalk that night up to nothing more than a bad dream. If she kept that night as only a bad dream, it wouldn't hurt her anymore.

The car came to a stop outside the Metropolitan Gala. A suited man opened Gatsby's door and Rebecca watched as her husband slipped out. He turned and offered her his hand which she willingly accepted. The summer breeze felt comfortable against her bare arms. The sleeves of her dress covered her shoulder and brushed against her knees. The wide brim of her hat protected her from the sunlight as she turned and looked to see a smiling Nick helping Elizabeth out of their red car. Playing with pearl buttons on her white lace gloves, Rebecca was relieved when Gatsby offered her his arm and they walked over to Nick and Elizabeth.

Rebecca was silent through the exchanges of pleasantries. Within a half hour, their group was inside the museum staring at some of the most beautiful paintings in the world. Just getting to see them was a wonderful distraction from her muddled thoughts and fears. Gatsby never let her stray too far from him and even though it was possibly annoying at times, Rebecca had to admit that with Gatsby, she felt safe. Walking around the building with him, Rebecca lost track of Nick and Elizabeth, who had wondered off on their own. Standing at the railing to the floors above, she could see her youngest sister and new brother-in-law standing next to each other as they stared at the painting before them.

"They look happy together," Gatsby commented as they stood side by side, both holding onto the railing. Staring down at her sister and Nick, Rebecca simply nodded. Nick and Elizabeth did look happy. In fact, they looked very happy together. A surge of jealous flashed through Rebecca's veins as she watched them. The opportunity to ever be as truly happy as Nick and Elizabeth had been snatched away from her. Resentment brewed beneath the surface and Rebecca tried to push it away. Her sister deserved happiness and she should be glad that Elizabeth had found such happiness. However, the feeling that she'd been robbed of her chance at joy ached inside still.

The past couldn't be undone.

Her actions as well as Gatsby's would live on in their memories and for the first time in a very long time, Rebecca couldn't help but wonder what her life would be like if Matthew had asked her to wait for him. As quick as the thought of Matthew came, Rebecca dashed it. The road she was on was a dangerous one and if she took it, the road would only make her more miserable. Before she could get off the road, the thought of Gatsby nearly startled her.

What would her life have been like if Gatsby had allowed himself to fall in love with her?

He'd already admitted that he didn't love Daisy and never had loved her in any real sense of the word. He'd never loved Daisy and he'd even told her that if he'd let himself, Gatsby was sure he could have fallen easily in love with her.

Could that truth still be possible?

The firm hold she kept on her emotions slipped a little as she looked at him. Denying that she'd ever loved Gatsby was useless. She'd fallen in love with him very quickly and it was comforting to know that she'd fallen in love with the real Gatsby. His confession days earlier that everything he'd told her was the truth was a small comfort in many ways. Yes, he lied about Daisy, but Gatsby hadn't lied about his love of Shakespeare. He hadn't lied about his likes and dislikes and Rebecca wasn't sure if he'd purposefully made her fall in love with him. She'd done that on her own and as Gatsby had admitted, he too had come very close to loving her.

Could he still come to love her?

Staring at the handsome man she hadn't truly ever stopped loving, Rebecca felt scared and vulnerable. After everything that had happened with Ares, she wasn't sure she ever wanted to be loved, touched, or connected to another human being. What he'd done to her felt like pain she'd never experienced before and if she opened up to Gatsby and was hurt again, Rebecca wasn't sure she'd be able to keep living. There was only so much hurt a heart could take before it gave out.

"They have a few painting from the 17th century if you'd like to go look at them," Gatsby said, drawing Rebecca out of her thoughts as he offered her his arm. "We could leave Nick and Elizabeth here and slip away. They're married now, they don't need chaperons."

Looking at the man she'd loved for a very long time, Rebecca nodded and tucked her lace gloved hand into the crook of his elbow. Walking with him made her feel almost normal again as they walked past other guests at the museum. They were even stopped a few times by people Gatsby knew. A few of the people that they'd met were people she'd never met before. Each time Gatsby introduced her, he called her 'my lovely, Mrs. Gatsby'. Each time he used those words, Rebecca could feel her heart flutter involuntarily in her chest.

With each smile, gentle gesture and soft spoken word, Rebecca found herself in danger of succumbing to Gatsby all over again. No matter how much she fought it, she couldn't fight the truth that despite everything that had happened to her, Gatsby had been nothing but caring and protective in the past few weeks and it put her in more danger than ever.


Thursday

June 18, 1923

It was late when Gatsby stood to greet Wolfsheim. He'd spent most of the evening playing cards with Rebecca and only when she'd retired for the night had Gatsby retreated to his library. He had just finished up most of the work he wanted to accomplish for the night when Crawley had shown Wolfsheim in.

"What can I do for you, old sport?" Gatsby asked as he stood and shook hands with Wolfsheim. "Can I offer you a drink?"

Wolfsheim shook his head as he sat down in the closest chair and crossed his legs. Taking a cigar out of his pocket and lighting it, Wolfsheim took a puff before grinning.

"I have news."

Gatsby's posture instantly stiffened as he took the seat opposite Wolfsheim, "What did you find?"

Wolfsheim took a thick envelope out of his pocket and tossed it at Gatsby, who caught it with ease. Gatsby opened the envelope and was surprised to find himself looking at torn out pages from a ledger. Looking at the top corner, Gatsby spotted Ares' family crest and raised an eyebrow.

"Is this..."

He looked up at Wolfsheim for confirmation and the other man grinned.

"Old bastard is broke," Wolfsheim chuckled. "Son of bitch lost every penny of his fortune. I don't know how. Frankly, I don't care. All I know is that Ares is running out of places to hide and eventually, we'll smoke that son of a bitch out and we will find him Jay. I have no doubts about that. We will smoke him out with ease and I know it will be soon. I've got half my men working and the other half trying to run this bastard out of the ground. I will say that in the future, if needed, I think your men and mine could be very lucrative at finding people when needed. I smell a good business opportunity."

"I don't understand why Ares didn't take the money Rebecca offered him for the pictures," Gatsby replied standing. "The money he could have extorted from her would go a long way to fixing his financial problems."

"He got greedy, Jay," Wolfsheim murmured quietly as Gatsby opened his safe behind a painting and tossed the envelope inside. "He got greedy and over played his hand. He signed his own death warrant even though both you and I know the logical thing would have been for him to take the money and run."

"He signed his death warrant either way. I would have still tracked him down and killed him for even approaching my wife, let alone trying to extort money and hurt her."

Wolfsheim nodded and took another puff of his cigar before a gentle knock on the door came. Gatsby called out for whoever was on the other side of the door to enter. His eyes softened when he saw Rebecca look around the door tiredly. Wolfsheim must have seen her too because he stood up and cleared his throat.

"I'll be on my way home for the night," he said politely. "Thank you for letting me in. I hope that this new information will be useful to us in many ways. I'll show myself out."

"It will be," Gatsby assured Wolfsheim before shaking his hand. "Goodnight, old sport."

Wolfsheim bid goodnight also and tipped his hat at Rebecca before silently leaving the library. Rebecca slipped into the dimly lit room and looked around as Gatsby walked back to the safe and closed it. Neither said a word as Gatsby moved back to the chair he'd been sitting in and sat down. He pulled an ottoman close to his feet and propped them up in front of the fire.

"What was Meyer doing here so late?" Rebecca asked as she stood in front of him. The fire behind her lightened the room and Gatsby could see through the thin material of her nightgown. The nightgown fell just after her knees and the thin straps were ideal for summer. The material clinched just under her bust and the fabric flowed out. Through the material, Gatsby could see the gentle curve of her hips. He could clearly see how her tiny waist flared into an hour glass shape and the urge to reach out and pull her to him was overwhelming. The only thing that stopped him was the timid and frightened look on Rebecca's face.

"Is everything alright?" she asked him. "Why is Meyer here so late? It's nearly two o'clock in the morning."

Her words brought Gatsby back to reality as he swung around and looked over his shoulder. The tall grandfather clock in the corner registered the time.

"You're still awake?" he asked with a frown. "It's late."

"I couldn't sleep," Rebecca admitted. "I'm…I'm afraid to go to sleep."

"Do you trust me?" Gatsby said softly as he reached for her hand. Staring at him for only a moment, Rebecca nodded. Pulling her to him, Gatsby helped her to cuddle up in his lap. Her legs tangled with his as she rested her body against his. The gentle weight of her head on his chest was welcome and the ottoman in front of him helped them both stretch out comfortably.

"You're safe, Rebecca," he murmured to her softly once she had settled down in his arms. "Go to sleep. No one will hurt you and I will be with you the whole time. I won't let anything bad happen to you, I promise."

Wrapping them both up in a blanket he'd grabbed from close by, Gatsby rested his chin on top of Rebecca's head. Despite the cramped position, he was comfortable. Closing his eyes, he soon joined her in peaceful, dreamless sleep with the peace of mind that soon, he'd have Ares Patrick in his hands to crush.


Saturday

June 30, 1923

Rebecca stood looking in the mirror. The light lilac colored dress was richly embroidered and Rebecca smiled as she sat letting Tilly do her hair. Pulling the long stands of blonde hair into an elegant style at the base of her neck, Rebecca let her fingers travel over the diamond comb she planned on wearing. A knock at the door came and Tilly quickly rushed to open it. Stepping into her rooms, Gatsby looked handsome. Wearing a black evening suit, he looked dashing as he walked towards her carrying a long, narrow box.

"Have Elizabeth and Nick arrived?" Rebecca asked him as she dabbed perfume to the insides of her wrists.

"I told Crawley to show them to the drawing room," Gatsby replied as he set a little box down on the vanity. "They should be here soon and before you worry, I checked with Mrs. Miller and Crawley. Everything is fine downstairs, so don't worry."

Rebecca couldn't help the small smile that came to her lips, "I don't worry."

Gatsby shook his head as he stepped aside to let Tilly finish her hair. Sitting down in the settee near her, Gatsby crossed his legs and took out his little notebook and pencil. Watching in the mirror as his lips moved as he scribbled, Rebecca was quickly beginning to find his little habit intriguing. He did it more often than she'd ever realized and she was curious to know what he was writing. Tilly made the last adjustments to her hair and Rebecca smiled at the young woman as she inspected the work.

"It's perfect, Tilly," she praised. "You can go until I call you."

Tilly nodded and quickly left the room as Rebecca reached for the snow white gloves that were laid out. Watching Gatsby in the reflection of the mirror, she watched him make one last note in his note book before slipping the little book into his breast pocket.

"Do you think you could get the wrist buttons?" she asked him as she pulled the glove up over her elbow.

Crouching down next to her, Gatsby delicately took her wrist and buttoned the three pearl buttons. Giving him her other wrist, Rebecca stared at the small box he'd left on her vanity.

"Don't forget your box when we go," she told him as she watched him button her wrist again. "Tilly might misplace it or something."

"The box is yours," Gatsby said softly, letting go of her wrist. "Why don't you open it?"

With a raised brow, Rebecca quickly undid the bow and popped the lid to the box open. Nestled inside was a beautiful diamond, sapphire, and pearl bracelet. Beautifully designed with silver, the bracelet was one of the most intricate things Rebecca was sure she'd ever seen. Taking it out of the box, she held the bracelet in her hands and let her fingertips trace the diamonds and pearls lightly.

"Do you like it?" Gatsby asked her looking almost nervous. "If you don't, I can take it back and you can decide what you like best. I know you liked rubies and we both know that you are far better at picking jewelry than I am."

"It's perfect," she smiled as she looked at him. "Can you do the clasp?"

Offering him her wrist again, Rebecca watched as Gatsby undid the bracelet's clasp and attached it around her wrist. The diamonds sparkled in the light and pearls only added to the magnificence of the gift. It truly was a beautiful bracelet and without thinking, Rebecca pressed a soft kiss to Gatsby's cheek. Her lips only lingered for a few seconds, but she could feel the smoothness of his freshly shaven face. Her lips tingled and her whole body felt like it could come alive at that moment. Her eyes met his and she stared into his crystal blue orbs for only a minute before she cleared her throat and stood.

"We'll be late if we don't leave now," she murmured as she quickly looked around for her perfume. Applying a dab to each side of her neck, Rebecca nearly dropped the bottle of perfume when Gatsby gently touched the inside of her elbow. He took the bottle of perfume and set it down on the vanity before he cupped her neck. His lips descended softly down onto hers and every fiber in her being came alive. Gatsby's lips were just as soft as she remembered them being on her wedding day. His arm lopped around her waist and pulled her close to his body. Nothing disturbed her thoughts in that moment. All she could think about was Gatsby and tingling sensation he brought pulsing through her body. With just a kiss, he made her feel more alive than Matthew ever did.

When oxygen became a need, Gatsby pulled away. They were both breathing heavily and just as Rebecca was about to pull him back to her for another kiss, a knock came from the door. Quickly stepping away from him, Rebecca stared at herself in the mirror and righted any part of her appearance that looked disheveled. Gatsby left the dressing room and crossed the sitting room. Opening the double doors, Rebecca could see Crawley on the other side. Walking to the sitting room, she caught the tail end of the conversation.

"What did Crawley want?" she asked as Gatsby closed the doors and looked at her. He smoothed his hair back down and adjusted his vest before clearing his throat.

"Nick, Elizabeth, and your parents are here," Gatsby replied quietly as he held his hand out to her. "Shall we?"


Rebecca had truly outdone herself, Gatsby reflected with a smile as he sat at one of the many tables that were set up outside. Everything glittered and gleamed like he knew it would. In every essence of the word, Rebecca had outdone herself. The house looked stunning and everything about it was perfect from the decorations to the food to the drinks being served. Word had somehow gotten out about the Gatsby's throwing a party and men had to be placed at the gate to make sure only those with invitations were admitted.

Watching Rebecca dance with Nick, Gatsby was taken back to the very night everything had come undone. He'd barely paid any attention to her that night and with a sip of Champagne, Gatsby stood up as Nick escorted Rebecca back to the table with every intention of rectifying his biggest mistakes.

"Enjoying yourself, old sport?" Gatsby asked with a smile as he tucked Rebecca's hand into the crook of his elbow.

"Absolutely!" Nick smiled back. "Everything is far more beautiful than I ever imagined. You've truly out done yourself, Mrs. Gatsby!"

Rebecca laughed at Nick's words, "Thank you, I wasn't trying, but thank you none the less."

"I had best return to Elizabeth," Nick continued. "I'll see you again before the evening is done."

Gatsby nodded and watched as Nick slipped away into the crowd to find his own wife again. Turning to Rebecca with a smile, Gatsby nodded at the dance floor.

"Shall we?" he asked and Rebecca smiled. They'd only managed to walk a few feet when an old friend of Gatsby's bumped into them. Tall with flaming red hair that didn't quite lay flat, Rebecca was curious about the man before he even said a word. Dressed well, it was obvious that the man was well to do and his smile made her think that the man loved to laugh.

"Henry Martin!" Gatsby exclaimed with a smile. "It's good to see you, old sport."

"You as well, old chap," Mr. Martin replied. "Who's this enchanting creature with you?"

Blushing a little, Rebecca smiled as Gatsby turned to her.

"I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Henry Martin," Gatsby told her with a smile. "Mr. Martin, this is my wife, Rebecca Gatsby."

"It's a pleasure to finally put a name with a beautiful face," Mr. Martin said. "You're husband speaks highly of you."

"Does he now?" Rebecca asked with a teasing smile as she looked from one man to the other. "How exactly do you know Mr. Martin?"

"I designed these gardens and the house," Mr. Martin supplied. "Your husband has always been a wonderful client of mine and I enjoy working with him."

"The gardens are my favorite part of the house," Rebecca smiled brightly. "The house is lovely too, but I love the gardens more than anything else. I think they are perfect."

"My lovely wife is quite fond of getting lost in them," Gatsby chuckled as he affectionately squeezed her hand, "She'll spend hours and hours in them and I can never find her. I doubt she'd ever leave them if she had a choice."

"I can only imagine! Mrs. Gatsby, I never thought I'd met the woman all this was designed for!" Mr. Martin said enthusiastically. "It was truly a pleasure hearing Mr. Gatsby describe how he wanted everything perfect for you. I'm pleased I was able to be such a great help to him."

At the mention of the house and gardens being designed, Rebecca felt her whole body stiffen. She knew exactly who Mr. Martin was talking about and it made her want to scream in frustration. Just like her sister, Daisy was a constant ghost of the past that never seemed to stay where she belonged…in the past. Rebecca didn't hear what Gatsby said to Mr. Martin, but she let him guide her down to the dance floor. Knowing that she had to say something, Rebecca cleared her throat.

"He seemed very nice," she commented as Gatsby took her hand in his.

Neither of them said anything as a cold, uncomfortable silence descended upon them. The haunting truth that everything had been designed for Daisy left Rebecca feeling dissatisfied in some ways. While she lived at Gatsby Manor, the knowledge that everything had been designed for Daisy left her feeling like the manor was never really her home. It was just a house that she stayed in that provided a bed and warm meals. There were many things she tried to ignore or hide and that truth was one of those things. Gatsby broke the silence as took they the steps required of them in the Waltz.

"I'm sorrier than you'll ever know," he murmured softly to her. "I'm a very selfish man. I imagine that you already know that. I want everything for myself and I don't care who I hurt sometimes. In being that selfish man, I've hurt you many times and I'm so sorry."

"You're not as selfish as you describe. I don't believe that," Rebecca answered as Gatsby rested his hand on her lower back. "You wouldn't be here if you were so unreasonably selfish. You're here for Nick and to help your friend. That's not selfish, Jay."

With a shake of his head, Gatsby brought her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it, "You're far too good for me."

Swaying softly with the music that band played, Rebecca turned and looked at Nick and Elizabeth.

"They look very happy," she murmured. "I don't think I've seen my sister smile so much."

"I'd be smiling too if I were her. She completely avoided any scandal and she's married," Gatsby drawled. "She has secured everything she wants in life and has a child on the way. I'd be surprised if she was frowning."

Rebecca broke her gazing and turned back to look at him, "We'll have a new neighbor...eventually. Nick will be moving to Harper House and living with my parents and Elizabeth. Has it already been a year since Nick moved in? Where has the time gone?"

"I don't know," he told her. "However, I do know that at my age, time speeds up."

Rebecca couldn't help but to laugh, "You're only thirty-three! You're not old!"

"I'm not twenty-three anymore, either."

"When you compare your age to mine, you do seem rather old."

One of Gatsby's rare smiles graced his lips, "I thought you just told me I was young."

Before Rebecca could say anything an obviously drunk man stumbled and fell into her. Gatsby managed to catch her before she fell completely to the ground, but the bracelet around her wrist broke off at the clasp. Two of Gatsby's security detail appeared and quickly escorted the drunken man out as Rebecca stared down helplessly at the bracelet. Picking it up, she allowed Gatsby's men to part the crowd for them.

"The clasp broke," she told him with a frown as she looked at the beautiful bracelet Gatsby had given her just a few hours ago.

"I'll put it in my pocket," Gatsby told her as he pulled out a chair for her to sit in as she inspected the broken clasp.

"No, it might get lost or someone might try and take it out of your pocket. I'll just go upstairs and put it in my safe for the night. In the morning, we can just send it off to the jewelers to be fixed. Besides, I have to go upstairs anyways, my shoe strap broke."

Gatsby glanced down as Rebecca lifted her evening gown a few inches to show him her ruined shoe.

"Is it even possible to walk in that?" he asked.

Sliding her foot out of the tiny heeled shoe, Rebecca watched as Gatsby waved a maid over. The woman quickly undid the other strap on the unbroken shoe.

"I'll be fine going upstairs," Rebecca assured him as she stood up. Looking down at her dress, everything appeared to be in order as she smoothed her hands over the bodice. Holding out a gloved hand, Gatsby placed the bracelet into her palm with a hesitant look on his face.

"I'll be back before you know it and you owe me another dance where I'm not trampled by a drunken man."

Her words extracted a small smile from Gatsby as he stood up too, "I promise. Now, go and hurry back."

She walked away from the table and quickly walked up the left side of the twin staircases in the gardens and disappeared into the house.


Rebecca opened the door to her rooms and frowned in frustration as the bracelet's hook broke. The bracelet had kept coming undone all night and rather than letting Gatsby put the thing in his pocket, Rebecca wanted to put it away in the safe until it could be fixed. She didn't want to lose such a beautiful gift from him. Rebecca hadn't asked him how much the bracelet was worth, but seeing the way people's eyes grew wide and the way the exclaimed over it, she knew it was worth quite a lot of money.

Closing the sitting room door behind her, Rebecca held the diamond and sapphire bracelet in her hand as she called for Tilly. Crawley had promised that the maid was waiting for her and with a frown, Rebecca walked quickly to the bedroom. Rarely was Tilly ever late or missing and it wasn't in Crawley's nature to lie about anything. Staring at the bed that had already been turned down for later, Rebecca moved out of the bedroom and dropped the bracelet down onto the circular dark wood table that contained the beautiful vase of flowers. Hearing a creak from the dressing room, Rebecca turned on her heel and walked to the room with the full intention of reprimanding Tilly for not coming when she was called.

Pushing open the door, Rebecca felt all the air her body escape her. Lying against the wall opposite her was Tilly. The young woman's black dress and white apron were stained red with blood. Next to her, a small Egyptian statue of the god Ra stood, broken and covered in blood. A scream formed in Rebecca's throat, but it never reached her lips. Two arms came around her and one hand covered her mouth. A gun was pressed into her side and terror unlike anything Rebecca had ever experienced welded up inside her.

"Hello, my little dove."

A sicken sound of Ares Patrick's voice made Rebecca feel weak in the knees as desperately tried to think of anything she could do to get away from him.

"Don't talk," Ares purred into her ear. "I'll remove my hand if you promise not to scream. One scream from you and I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your body. Am I clear?"

Realizing that she had no choice, Rebecca nodded tearfully. Ares let her go and she felt so dirty. Watching him walk to the beautiful Vestier painting of the lady with the book and the navy blue sash, Rebecca held her breath when Ares yanked the painting away from the wall. With ease, the painting swung back and the safe behind it was revealed.

"The combination," Ares said as he turned and pointed the gun at her. "What is the combination to get it?"

"Why are you doing this?" Rebecca whispered as her hands trembled violently. "Please, I gave you want you w-w-wanted."

Ares barked a harsh laugh and walked towards her. Grabbing her upper arm, he dragged her to stand in front of the safe and pointed the gun at her again.

"The combination, Mrs. Gatsby," he said in a smooth, dangerous voice. "Open the safe and I won't blow your head off. Open the safe and you won't end up like your poor, stupid little maid who tried to stop me."

Before Rebecca could say anything, the sound of another person in her rooms caused both of them to pause. A young maid walked into the dressing room. Before she could scream, Ares turned and without even blinking, fired the gun. Rebecca covered her ears and watched in horror as the young maid fell to floor, dead. Blood ran freely from the wound to her head. She covered her mouth to prevent the scream that threatened to escape her as she stared down at the lifeless figure of Sarah.

"The safe," Ares said as he turned the gun back towards her. "Open the safe, Mrs. Gatsby."

Violently shaking, Rebecca did all she could to steady her hands as she walked to the safe. It took her a few tries, but on the fourth try, she managed to open it. The door swung open and all her jewelry as well as other valuable items lay inside. A sickening smile crossed Ares face as he looked at her.

"You are divine, my love," he murmured to her. "Go, stand by the chair."

Quickly crossing the room, Rebecca stood and watched in silent horror as Ares emptied all the jewelry that had been in the safe into his pockets.


Gatsby frowned as he looked at the clock.

Rebecca had been gone for almost half an hour. Their guests were wining and dining. They were drinking and stuffing themselves with all the wonderful food the cooks had prepared for the party. No one had noticed that Rebecca hadn't come back from the party. Nick and Elizabeth were finishing a second set of dancing while Edward drank his way through the bar and Katherine flirted with significantly younger men.

Looking at Wolfsheim and the young woman that had come along, Gatsby excused himself and stood up from the table. The party was perfect and there was no denying that Rebecca had outdone herself, but Gatsby felt bored and he knew why. Rebecca wasn't with him and she was what made the party enjoyable to him. Quickly making his way to the grand staircase and climbing, Gatsby stopped halfway up when he heard Nick call his name.

"Enjoying the party, old sport?" Gatsby asked with a smile as Nick climbed up the steps to meet him.

"It's spectacular," Nick returned with a brilliant grin. "Elizabeth is beyond thrilled to see everyone here and I don't think she's stopped smiling since we arrived."

"I'm glad."

"So am I," Nick continued. "None of this would be possible without you and Rebecca's help. I am incredibly thrilled that I get to call you 'brother' now."

Gatsby couldn't help the laughter that escaped him, "Indeed, old sport! It seems we are now indeed brothers. As your brother, I must command you go back to the party and enjoy yourself."

"And you?" Nick asked with a raised brow. "Where are you going? If Rebecca finds out you've abandoned her party there will be hell to pay, Jay."

"I'm off to go get here and bring her back to the party," Gatsby replied as he clasped Nick on the shoulder. "The bracelet I gave Rebecca, regrettably, has a broken clasp. She's afraid of losing it and went to go put it in her safe. She and Tilly probably have both forgotten the combination and are trying to open the damn thing. I'll just lock the bracelet in my own safe and tomorrow, I'll find the missing combination. We'll be back at the party in ten minutes, Nick. Go and enjoy yourself, old sport."

With one last smile, Nick nodded and quickly descended down the steps to where a footman was waiting for him and offered a glass of champagne. Shaking his head and turning, Gatsby climbed the rest of the way up the stairs and nodded at the young footman who was guarding the corridor so that guests couldn't enter the private areas of the house. Turning down the hall and going quickly to Rebecca's door, Gatsby opened the door without hesitation and stepped into the elegant sitting room. Nothing was out of place and the room was dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner.

"Rebecca?" he called as he checked the bedroom. "Did you forget about our party?"


Rebecca felt the air leave her lungs as she stood away from the opened safe and heard Gatsby calling her. Knowing Ares, she knew that he would most likely shoot Gatsby on sight. The gun was continually pointed at her as Ares raised a finger to his lips. Getting his message, Rebecca nodded as she tried to choke back tears. It was all too much and she hoped to God that she wouldn't see Gatsby shot to death in front of her. She couldn't the thought. Not daring to say a word, fearing that Ares would shoot Gatsby, Rebecca barely registered the tears that fell down her cheeks as Gatsby called her name again. She could hear each step as he got closer and closer to the dressing room. In her mind, she was screaming at him to turn away. Ares would hurt him and she couldn't bear to know it was because of her. Gatsby walked right into the dressing room and paused. His eyes grew wide seeing the gun that Ares pointed at her. Too frightened to move, Rebecca felt a sob escape her throat as she looked at him.

"I see you finally decided to join the party," Ares smiled as Gatsby slowly walked towards her. Rebecca trembled as Gatsby stepped in front of her and she tightly held onto his hand and wrist with both hands. He gently squeezed her hand as if he was telling her it would be alright. She desperately wanted to believe that everything would be alright, but a haunting feeling inside her pointed to a different ending.

"Just put the gun down Ares," Gatsby said quietly as he shielded her. "You can have the jewels, just put the gun down. I know you need the money. So please, just take the jewels and go."

"I lower this gun and you'll probably draw out your own and kill me," Ares Patrick yelled, sounding slightly hysterical. "I know you will! That's just the kind of sick, son of a bitch that you are!"

"Take the jewelry," Gatsby told Ares again calmly. "Take the jewelry and leave. We won't do anything, just go. If this is what you feel you need to do than just do it."

Clutching the back of Gatsby's black dinner jacket, Rebecca tried to stop her shaking, but she couldn't. The lifeless bodies of the two maids on the floor and her rapist waving a gun around like a raging lunatic only served to add to her distress and she could feel the fear that pulsed through her veins.

"You're wife was pretty thing," Ares said angrily as his hand holding the gun shook violently. "There was just something about her. I don't know how you've resisted her all these years, if the rumors are true. She's not a virgin. I'll tell you that. She doesn't scream like a virgin does when you push into them for the first time."

"Take the jewels and go," Gatsby replied again as he raised his arms up a little in surrender. "If you think taking Rebecca's diamonds will change the future of your business and will help you, by all means, take the jewelry and leave. We won't stop you and we'll just replace the diamonds later. They're yours to keeps, Ares. Just put the gun down."

"You're being condescending," the man snarled as he pulled back the hammer on the gun and cocked it. "You, the great Jay Gatsby, one of the richest men in New York, can buy whatever the hell you feel like. What are a few diamonds to you anyways? Are we all replaceable to you like diamonds? Is your wife replaceable like diamonds?"

The door creaked open and all three of them turned to see Wolfsheim pointing his own gun at Ares.

"Put the gun down, Ares. Stop this madness," Wolfsheim tried to reason as he slowly walked into the room. "Jay already said he'd let you go if you just put the gun down and leave. Nobody has to get hurt."

The gun in Ares' hands shook violently as he continued to point it between Wolfsheim and Gatsby. The smell of blood mingled with gun powder permeated the air and left Rebecca feeling sick as her eyes nervously darted between the three men.

"I can't do what you're asking me to do," Ares said through clenched teeth.

In the next moment, the sound of two guns going off at nearly the exact same time echoed off the walls of her dressing room. Ares fell back against the safe and slammed his head on the thick, metal door with a sickening thud. The gun fell from his hand as the snow white dress shirt he wore began to turn ruby red. Stepping out from behind Gatsby, Rebecca looked at the sight of the three bodies lying on the ground. No words escaped her lips as she covered her mouth and tried to hold back the scream that threatened to escape as she stared into unconscious form of Ares Patrick.

He wasn't dead, but the bullet had hit him in the shoulder.

"I'll call my men to clean this mess up," Wolfsheim said quietly after a moment as he tucked his gun back into his holster under his dinner jacket.

"And a surgeon," Gatsby added quietly.

Rebecca turned around so quickly that she almost tripped over the skirt of her dress. Horror spread through her chest as she stared at Gatsby. He leaned into the chair that was next to him as he tried to grasp the back of it and support himself. Despite the hand that applied pressure to the wound in his lower abdomen, blood was quickly seeping from his body at an alarming rate. Wolfsheim was at Gatsby's side as he began to collapse. Watching Wolfsheim help her husband to the floor, Rebecca could barely keep her hands steady as she tried to grab as many handkerchiefs as she could out of the top drawer of her vanity. Rushing to Gatsby's side, her heart clenched painful in her chest as looked down at his pale face. Wolfsheim yanked the handkerchiefs out of her hands and began applying pressure to the wound as it bleed profusely.

The staff of the house must have heard the gun shots because Mr. Crawley, the aging butler, came bursting in the room not more than a few minutes later with a speed Rebecca had never seen him use. She barely heard what orders Wolfsheim gave. It didn't matter that Gatsby's blood was smeared over her dark purple dress and the snow white gloves she wore looked like a bottle of red wine had been spilt over the silky material.

"You shouldn't have done that," Rebecca told him in a shaky voice. "You should have moved out of his way."

"And let him shoot you?" Gatsby replied hoarsely with a slight smile. "Never."

His hand was barely able to reach her, but he gently brushed a wisp of fallen hair behind her ear.

"I'm just glad that the last thing I'm able to see is you," he continued so softly Rebecca nearly missed his words. "You look like a beautiful angel and the only thing that's missing is your smile."

His voice was rough and a harsh cough ripped through his chest from the effort of speaking.

"Don't say that," she whispered to him quickly. "Don't you dare say that. You're going to live. I'm going to save you. I refuse to let this be goodbye."

Gatsby blinked for a few seconds before he closed his eyes.

"Jay! Jay!" she cried as she grasped the hand that had swept away her curl tightly. "Wake up! Say something! Please! Jay!"

From behind, someone grabbed her and yanked her away from Gatsby as two men entered the room and rushed to his side. Rebecca couldn't see what they were doing, but didn't matter. All she wanted was Gatsby to open his soft, blue eyes and look at her again. She wanted to his rare smile and the crinkle in the corner of his eyes when he laughed.

"Help him! Do something!" she sobbed as one of the men shook their head sadly. She barely felt her tears running down her face as she struggled against the strong arms that were holding her back, "Get off me! Jay? Jay!"