Verity didn't want to jinx anything, but she could hardly believe how well things were going with Mark. They tried to meet each other as often as possible and had been on dates to coffee shops, more restaurants and had even spent an entire day walking around Central Park together. He stayed at hers whenever he could, claiming that his apartment was nowhere near as nice as hers was, but that didn't mean that she didn't want to see it or wasn't intrigued as to where he lived. She didn't push him though, wondering if maybe a part of him felt uncomfortable with letting her in. She supposed they were moving quickly, but it all felt natural. Nothing felt rushed to them, despite what people around them said.

Janet had warned Verity to be careful, not wanting to see her hurt again. Mark, on the other hand had his colleagues telling him, either jokingly or not, that there was no chance he was going to stay together with a girl like her. He paid them no attention because they had no idea what it was he had with Verity. They could mock him and make comments, but he didn't care because, at the end of the day, he knew what they were. Besides, his sister seemed to support whatever their budding relationship was. She was constantly mocking him whenever she saw him, but that was the nature of sibling relationships.

It was a Friday night when Mark was due to meet Verity at her apartment when he had his first meeting with her parents. He was walking towards her apartment block, still dressed in his uniform after finishing on duty. He'd parked his car around the corner where he'd managed to find a spot. Grabbing his duffle bag with his change of clothes from the trunk, he slung it over his shoulder and headed towards her building. He caught the door before it could close behind her neighbour who he greeted politely.

Taking the steps two at a time, he came to her floor and knocked on the door. She answered it after a few moments, still dressed in a fitted grey dress, legs bare and hair tied into a high ponytail. She looked to him and he noted a panicked expression on her face. He frowned, instantly growing concerned.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"Why did you not buzz up?" she asked from him, her voice low and almost like a hiss.

Mark frowned. "Your neighbour was on her way out and I snuck in. Why?"

"My parents are here," she whispered and Mark's eyes widened. This wasn't how he thought their Friday evening was going to go. He had suspected he would turn up at her apartment and probably dash back out to grab them some food, but he didn't factor parents into the equation. Verity moved a hand to her forehead, rubbing it slowly and stressing. "If you'd have buzzed up then I could have told you that I'd meet you later."

"Bit late now," Mark said.

"They just turned up unexpectedly. I had no idea they were going to drop by," Verity said. "I bet they heard about us at the concert from the Jacobson's."

"You knew that this was going to happen eventually, right?" Mark checked from her. "I mean, we've been dating for over a month now. It isn't like you could've kept this secret forever."

"Want a bet?" she muttered and Mark frowned. He lowered his bag from his shoulder and let it dangle in his hand. Cocking his head to the side, he blinked a couple of times and then said what was on his mind.

"Are you embarrassed by me?" he asked, the mocking taunts of his colleagues ringing in his ears. He knew that they had been joking, but here he was wondering if maybe they had a point. What if she was embarrassed because he didn't move in her circles? What if she had just been hiding it?

Verity looked hurt by what he said. She turned her head over her shoulder and stepped out of the apartment, pulling the door closed behind her but making sure it didn't snick locked. She folded her arms and tilted her head up, almost looking defiant.

"Do you think that of me?" she asked from him.

"I didn't, but is there any other reason why you don't want me to meet them?" Mark asked from her.

"You've heard what I've said about them right?" she checked with him. "I don't want you to meet them because I know what they'll say and I…I don't want them to scare you off. I don't want them judging you and making you run and realise that you can do so much better than me. Things are going so well right now, Mark, and I don't want them to ruin it. I want to protect you from them."

Mark felt relief wash over him. His shoulders sagged and a smirk formed on his face. Verity's nose wrinkled at the seeming nonchalance that came over him.

"Why do you look so calm?"

"Because I'm not bothered about anything you've just said," Mark said. "Would it be nice to have their approval? Yeah, of course it would be because I'm dating their daughter…but if I don't get it…if they think I'm too lowly for you…then I don't give a shit, Verity. I know what we have and I know who you are. So, no, your parents aren't going to scare me off. I think it's sweet that you want to protect me from them, but you don't need to, alright? I can handle them."

Verity wondered just what she had done to deserve someone like Mark in her life. He chuckled again and shook his head. Extending his arms out wide, Mark dropped his bag and embraced her, holding onto her tightly. She wrapped her arms around him, lacing her fingers against his back. Mark squeezed her tightly and kissed the top of her head.

"You're either mad or perhaps the bravest person I know," Verity said. He snickered again and she pulled her head back, tilting her head up so that she could look up to him.

"Fine line between madness and bravery," Mark commented. "So…are we doing this?"

"Let's go," Verity nodded and she took a deep breath.

Mark picked his bag up again and carried it through to her hallway. She shut the door behind him and he dropped his things onto the ground. Shrugging out of the big black jacket he was wearing, he hung it on the coat rack as he heard a voice call out from the living area.

"Verity, do you have any sparkling water?"

Verity exhaled a shaky breath and called back down the corridor as she headed towards the living room. Mark followed her, giving his reflection a quick check in the mirror in the hall as he passed by it. His uniform was looking slightly crumpled, but at least he had shaved that morning and his hair was neat enough.

"I have tap water if that would suffice?" Verity said.

"Don't be so macabre," the shrill voice rang out again.

"It's good enough for most people, mother," Verity retorted and she came to the doorway. Mark stood behind her, peering over her shoulder at the couple sat at opposite ends of the sofa like they couldn't stand each other.

Verity's mother was a small and thin woman. She was dressed in a tweed jacket and skirt, heels on her feet. She had a golden locket around her neck and she looked exactly how Mark had imagined. She had pinched features with beady brown eyes. Her brown hair was a similar shade to Verity's and also hung in waves, but she had it cropped around her shoulders and tucked behind her ears. Verity had clearly inherited her looks from her father. She had a similar bone structure and the same dark blue eyes. He was a tall and lithe man, dressed in a three-piece suit with greying hair slicked back on his head. Mark felt their eyes turn to him.

"Mother, father, this is Mark," Verity introduced him. "Mark this is Dorothy and John, my parents."

Dorothy sniffed the air, almost like there was a sudden bad smell. She didn't make a move to stand up. Jack, on the other hand, moved to his feet and he headed on towards Mark, extending a hand to him.

"John Daniels," he introduced himself.

Mark shook his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, sir," he remembered his manners.

"I take it this is who Juliana Jacobson saw you with when you were playing at Banham Hall?" Dorothy addressed her daughter, almost as though Mark wasn't even in the room. He didn't let it bother him. He would be the epitome of polite. It wasn't his intention to make Verity's life difficult.

"Yes, Mark came to watch me play," Verity said, lips pursing together as her father returned to his seat on the sofa.

"She's very talented," Mark declared. "You must be very proud."

"She is skilled, yes," John concurred with that, hands resting on his thighs as Verity urged for Mark to sit down in the armchair underneath the window. She went to the kitchen and he watched her back as she fussed around preparing drinks.

"A skill that hardly pays enough," Dorothy declared and Verity's teeth ground together as she poured her father a whiskey and her mother a glass of champagne from the bottle that she had bought with her because apparently visitors should never turn up empty handed. "I often wonder why we put her through Julliard."

"Come along, Dottie," John tutted. "Verity is making a living and it isn't as if she'll be tutoring forever, is it?"

"Won't I?" Verity questioned, heading back to the living room and placing her parents drinks down onto the coffee table in front of them.

"We've discussed this," John said to his daughter. "If, in the next five years, you aren't able to make a more noble profession out of this then you should consider something else. Your mother has heard there are a number of places going on the board of the gallery she is on."

"You know those positions hardly pay too, right?" Verity asked and she poured Mark a drink of whiskey too and took one for herself. She moved back to the living room and handed it to him, perching on the arm of the chair he was on but keeping a respectable distance between them. "And we didn't discuss this. You told me it would happen, but I never agreed to it."

"Come along, Verity, we don't want to cause a scene in front of your latest squeeze," Dorothy said with a shrill laugh. Verity sat up straighter than before and Mark wanted to move a hand to her back to assure her that he was there for her.

"Mark and I have been dating for over a month now and things are going very well," Verity defended.

"Well, it's still early days," John declared. "Anyway, Mark, I understand you're a police officer. Was that always your ambition? Did you parents never want more for you? I can imagine they must worry terribly what with the crime rate in this city sometimes."

Mark shifted uncomfortably then, the badge against his chest suddenly feeling like a target. He moved his glass to his other hand and looked John in the eye. "Well, my parents died when I was six," he said and the older man did have the ability to look slightly embarrassed. "It's just me and my sister, Angelina. We lived with my aunt and I always wanted to make my own way. I've always had a strong sense of justice and helping people, so I figured the force was the right place for me. I've only been there a few years, but I'm already planning on progressing. Eventually I would like to be a detective."

"A detective, hm?" Dorothy asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Mark replied.

Dorothy sighed loudly, eyes rolling to the ceiling. "Do you know her previous boyfriend is now the deputy head of New York's second biggest investment bank?"

"Not the biggest though, is it?" Verity asked from her mother, tone bitter and Mark sensed that there were years of resentment between the pair of them. "Besides, you do remember that James stole all of my compositions, right?"

Dorothy shrugged. "Verity, there is more to life than graduating top of your class. James saw that and you knew that he would look after you."

"I don't need looking after."

"No, but you do need money, don't you?" John checked with his daughter. "How long do you think Janet is going to let you stay here without paying rent on it? Eventually, her parents will tell her to give it up. They can make a profit on this place with the way real estate is going in New York. And then what? You move into Mark's one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn?"

Verity frowned and Mark's brows furrowed together. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

"How do you know he lives in Brooklyn?"

"Verity, you know we need to do our research," Dorothy said. "Your father is one of the richest businessmen in this city. We need to be sure you're not being swindled by some conman and an orphan police officer…well…he doesn't come from money, does he?"

Verity scoffed and Mark knocked back the whole glass of whiskey Verity had given him. It burned his throat, but he didn't care. He was on the verge of doing something reckless and he didn't care. But Verity was standing up, arms flapping by her side wildly.

"Are you serious?" she demanded from him. "You looked into him? I mean…what the hell?"

"Calm down," John demanded from his daughter, tone tight and demanding.

"Calm down?" Verity retorted. "I'm not going to calm down. You've clearly spoken to some of your golf course buddies and had my boyfriend investigated. You could have just come to me and asked me about him or, I don't know, maybe talk to him tonight and get to know him instead of belittle him."

Dorothy stood up, forgetting about her drink. She grabbed her bag from where she'd sat on the sofa next to her and hung it in the crook of her arm. "There's no reasoning with you when you're hysterical," she said, holding a hand up and urging her daughter to calm down. Verity scoffed once more and Mark stood up next to her. Looking down to her, he noted her eyes had glazed over.

"Mr and Mrs Daniels," he addressed them. "I know you clearly don't think much to me or my profession, but I cannot change that. I am who I am and I just so happen to care very much about your daughter. She makes me happy and I like to think that I make her happy. I care for her and, while I clearly do not have your approval, I actually really don't care because all that matters is that I have Verity's approval. She's the only one who matters to me here. You constantly belittling of her…condescending her…it makes me feel sick because she deserves better than that. She's a stunning young woman and it makes me question how she could possibly have come from two entitled socialites."

John's eyes narrowed and Mark knew that look. He'd seen it before from so many people who had gotten on the wrong side of the law: disdain. He kept his head held high and Verity peered up to him, her lip quivering and almost like she wanted to say something but didn't know what to say.

"You are on thin ice, Verity," John warned his daughter and then looked to Mark. "And you…well…you won't be accepted into our society, you know that, don't you? Not least because your attitude needs an adjustment."

"Your acceptance means nothing to me," Mark said.

"I think you should go," Verity said and she folded her arms around herself as her father turned her glare to her and she felt like a little girl again.

"If you pick him over your family then that's it, Verity," John warned her.

"If you loved me than you wouldn't make me pick," Verity retorted and Dorothy laid a hand on her husband's arm, but he shrugged it off like the touch of her angered him. He turned on his heel and stormed off. Dorothy looked to her daughter, a look of sorrow coming over her.

"Why do you insist on doing this, Verity?" she questioned her as the front door slammed open, bouncing against the wall behind it from John's force.

"Why do you, mother?" Verity questioned back and Dorothy gave her daughter one more withering look before leaving her too.

Verity heard the door shut and let out the breath she had been holding in, sinking down into the armchair Mark had vacated. Burying her face into her hands, she cried into them. Mark knelt down in front of her and moved to take hold of her hands inside of his. She looked him in the eye as his forehead brushed against hers.

"I'm so sorry," she said to him.

Mark shook his head. "No," he said to her. "You have no need to apologise for their behaviour. You don't apologise for anyone's behaviour, do you understand me?"

"But they talked to you like…like you were nothing…and I…" Verity blabbered.

"Yeah, they did, but not you," Mark said. "Let them have their opinion of us…but…if you don't want to do this…if it's too difficult for you…then I would understand. I would never want you to pick between me and your family. I would never ask that of you."

Verity looked him in the eye then and he moved a thumb to wipe her tears away. She leaned in and kissed him, pressing her lips forcefully against his as she understood what he had just said. He would give up what they had if he had to. He wasn't asking her to choose. He would never ask her to choose. Verity closed her eyes firmly and relished the feeling of his mouth against hers for a few seconds before they broke apart from air, Mark leaning in to kiss her once more chastely.

"I don't care what they say," Verity said to him. "I want to keep exploring what we have."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure," she promised him.

His lips curved upwards. "Good…because I did notice that you called me your boyfriend."

Verity's eyes widened in horror and he chuckled at her. He leaned in to kiss her again. She reached up to thread her fingers through his hair.

"I did?"

"You did," he confirmed.

"I mean…I guess it was out of instinct…I mean I didn't mean to make…"

"You know you have this adorable trait of bumbling whenever you get nervous?" Mark checked and she pushed him in the shoulder, making him sway slightly but laugh even more. Shaking his head, he gulped down a breath and his eyes scanned her face. "But I didn't mind it at all. In fact, I quite liked it."

"You did?"

"I think I'd quite like to introduce you as my girlfriend," Mark said.

"I think I'd like that too."

"Done deal then, sweetheart," Mark said and he leaned in to kiss her once more.

Verity hadn't heard from her parents for a couple of weeks. They hadn't reached out to her and she hadn't reached out to them. She had nothing to say to them anyway. She had continued her tutoring, wondering if her mother had been bad mouthing her to people she tutored. She had no idea. She tried not to think about it and just be as professional as possible. She had gone back to the Jacobson household as well, but Juliana was currently involved in some meeting and Derek was out. Matthew had let Verity in and had walked with her to the piano.

She had sat down and listened to him, helping him with the composition he was working on. He seemed distracted however. It was almost like his mind wasn't on what was going on. Verity didn't call him out on it. She knew what it was like being a teenager. She was certain that there had been some lessons when she had been thinking about other things.

"Are you still with that cop?" Matthew suddenly asked after he had finished writing down three more notes. Verity left her right hand sat on top of the keys. She was sat next to Matthew on the bench. She lifted her hand up and tucked her hair behind her ears and tugged on the collar to the blue shirt she wore tucked into her green flared skirt.

"Mark? Yes, I am," Verity said, giving a short answer. "Do you think that it might be better if we tried it a flat note?" she asked, bringing him back to the task at hand. "And how is the application to Julliard going?"

"It won't last, you know that, don't you?" Matthew asked from her and Verity felt the hairs on her arm stand up. She sat up straight and forced herself to be professional, looking him in the eye.

"I think we should maybe just focus on the music," Verity said.

"I'm just saying," Matthew drawled out, rolling the sleeves to his jumper up his arms. "He's hardly educated and you basically graduated top of Julliard. Does he even understand classical music?"

Verity felt herself grow uncomfortable. She looked around the room, wondering if Juliana was going to make an appearance at any stage. She didn't want to get any further into this conversation, but Matthew seemed to be pushing it. Verity could feel the smile on her face falter. It was as fake as she could make it, but she hoped it would be enough to get her out.

"Matthew, I hardly think this is appropriate," Verity declared. "You've done well today and if you need any help with your application then we can talk about that next week."

"We still have fifteen minutes," Matthew said and Verity shook her head.

"Tell your parents to deduct it from my fee," she said and she started to move, but Matthew moved a hand and rested it on her thigh. Verity flinched and turned her upper body in his direction, hand going to his wrist to try and get his hand to move from her, but he squeezed her flesh and made her squirm.

"He's not good enough for you."

"Matthew, get off of me," Verity demanded from him, tone now rising higher.

"You know he's not good for you. I'll be eighteen next month…in college…you know how I feel about you, Verity. You have to know. Everything I've done has been to impress you."

Verity shook her head. She had no idea. She had always felt slightly uneasy around Matthew, but she thought that was because he lacked social skills, not because he felt this way. She pulled his hand from her thigh finally and stood up from the bench. She hastily tried to gather her music books from the ledge of the piano, but Matthew was standing up next to her, arms going around her and pushing her up against the piano, his front pressed to her back.

"Matthew, stop this."

"You've been leading me on for months," he sniped at her. "The smiles…the compliments…the touches."

"I've been doing my job," Verity said, turning around with her face inches from his. "Matthew, I'm sorry if you got the wrong end of the stick, but I'm a tutor. I just wanted to help you do the best you could."

"Even if that meant playing with my feelings?"

"I didn't do that," she snapped back at him.

"Maybe my dad was right," Matthew said, venom dripping in his voice. "Maybe you really are nothing but a worthless little whore who spreads her legs for anyone. Is that true? If I pay you more, will you spread your legs for me?"

He moved his hands to grab at her skirt, pulling it greedily up her thighs and pushing her back against the piano. Verity screamed then, pushing against him and refusing to let him do this to her. She slapped him across the face and he looked aghast that she had done that. He let her skirt fall back down her legs and then lifted his own hand, fingers outstretched and palm rising to make contact with her cheek. He hit her with enough force to make her turn her head to the side and she lifted her own hand to hold onto her cheek.

"My goodness, what is the noise in here?"

Juliana's voice echoed into the room, jovial and care free. Verity wondered what it looked like to her. Matthew moved quickly, fingers raking through his hair.

"Verity here was just leaving," he said, tone flat but eyes glaring with menace at Verity.

"Are you finished already?" Juliana asked from Verity and Matthew sat back down on the bench.

Verity nodded, her cheek smarting and tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "Yeah," she sniffed.

"Is everything alright?" Juliana asked as Verity avoided her gaze and packed away her belongings into her bag. She wanted to snap at the woman and tell her that nothing was alright, but she found that the words were stuck in her throat. But Matthew was the one who did the speaking.

"Verity isn't feeling too well, isn't that right?" he asked, his glare meeting hers and Verity felt repulsed by the sight of him.

"Oh dear," Juliana cooed. "I hope it's nothing serious. Yes, do leave early. Go home and get some rest."

"We'll still pay her for her full rate, won't we, mother?" Matthew asked.

"Of course," Juliana said.

Verity nodded her head and began to take off. She wanted to say something. She wanted to speak up, but she couldn't find the words. She was just in shock. She had no idea what she should say. She rushed through the apartment and towards the doors. But Juliana caught up with her.

"Verity, a moment?" she asked.

Standing by the door, Verity slipped into her long, black coat and her heeled boots that she had left there. She straightened up, well aware that she must look a mess. Sauntering towards her, Juliana laced her fingers together. She had a sickly sweet smile on her face.

"I trust we can forget what happened in there?" she asked from her.

Verity's brows knitted together. Her cheeks tinged red. "You saw?"

"Nothing happened."

"Your son…he…he tried to assault me…"

Juliana laughed shrilly. "Verity, honestly," she demanded from her. "My son did no such thing. For your reputation, we'll keep this quiet. It would hardly look good if rumour went around that you were into seducing teenage boys who you tutor."

Verity was completely aghast then. She shook her head back and forth, unable to believe that this was happening. Her head started to pound and she realised that Juliana wasn't some naïve socialite. She was a woman who would get her own way. She would ruin Verity just to protect her son and stop Verity from talking.

"It might be best if you don't come back here," Juliana said. "But we will pay you for the remainder of the lessons you had left with Matthew."

"I don't want your money."

"Don't be foolish, dear. Apparently, you'll need plenty of money soon enough considering you're well on your way to estranging yourself from your parents…how many parents will want you tutoring their children then?"

Verity was silent and Juliana opened the door behind her.

"Take care, Verity," she urged from her and crowded her out of the apartment, slamming the door in her face.

Mark had to admit that he was in a foul mood. He'd had a bad day at work. One guy had walked on a technicality after basically almost admitting to a robbery and another guy had turned out to have an alibi when they thought he was guilty. Then again, the alibi didn't seem solid, but he had been solid enough to get him out. He had gone back to his apartment to change before heading to Verity's, dressed in a dark blue shirt with his black jacket and jeans. He buzzed up and she let him in. Coming to her floor, the door was already open for him to walk in.

"Ver?" he called out.

"In here," she called out.

Mark headed into her bedroom and found her sat on the bed. She was wearing one of his tops that he had left in her apartment and her bed shorts. She had her hair pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. But the thing that caught his attention was her holding a pack of ice to her cheek.

"What happened?" Mark asked, slipping out of his jacket and dropping it onto the armchair before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Verity remained cross-legged in the middle of it as Mark peeled the ice from her cheek by tugging gently on her wrist. It was then when he saw the purple bruise. "Who the hell did this to you?" he demanded, anger rising in his voice.

"Mark, I need you to calm down, please," she urged from him. She hadn't seen him angry before, but the look in his eye showed that he was livid.

"Who did it?"

"Mark, I'll tell you, but I need you to calm down first," she urged from him and she noted the tension in his jaw as he ground his teeth together. He picked his hand up, fingers skimming her cheek. She winced slightly despite the lack of pressure he pushed against her skin. "I…I don't want you to fly off the handle and go all cop, please?"

"I'll only make that promise when I know what happened," Mark said and Verity suspected that was all she was going to get from him.

She let out a deep breath and dropped the ice pack to the floor by the side of the bed. She reached for his hand, hoping that she could keep him calm.

"I went to tutor Matthew," she said and his nostrils flared. "He…he asked if we were still together and I tried to tell him that my personal life was none of his business, but he kept pushing it. I…I told him that I was going to leave…and he…things turned nasty."

"He dared to lay a hand on you?"

"He grabbed my thigh and accused me of leading him on, but I never did that, Mark. I would never do that…I was just being nice to him…and he…" she explained but she had no reason to. Mark shook his head, moving his hand to her uninjured cheek and cupping it gently. "I didn't do that."

"I know, Ver," he whispered. "I know you never would have."

He saw her take a deep breath to try and steady herself.

"I pushed him off me and I tried to leave, but he…he pushed me against the piano…called me a whore and…he…he pulled my skirt up…."

Mark felt the blood drain from his face as she sobbed and he shook his head. He was trying to stay calm for her, but he was struggling. All he wanted to do was go round to that apartment and beat Matthew to within an inch of his life. He felt Verity grab at his hands, holding onto them tightly as she cried.

"I pushed him off of me. I slapped him and he slapped me back…but he…I thought he was going to…" she stammered and Mark shook his head, he reached for her, bringing her into his arms and holding onto her as she clung to him. She shook her head, tears dropping down her cheek and onto his neck. Closing his eyes, Mark ran his hand down her hair, trying to comfort her.

"We need to tell his parents, Verity," Mark said, his own voice on the verge of cracking at hearing her sound so broken.

She shook her head and pulled back to look up to him. "She knew," Verity whispered. "She threatened to ruin me if I told anyone. She said she'd tell people I groomed him…and I didn't…I didn't know what to do. I just left. I just ran and left. I didn't know what to say, Mark."

Mark's anger boiled up again then, rising to the surface like lava. "She did what?" he asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. He couldn't quite believe there were people like her out there, but he guessed he shouldn't be surprised from what he'd seen.

"I can't do anything," Verity said. "I can't risk my reputation and this job. I can't do that, Mark."

"He shouldn't be allowed to get away with what he did to you," Mark said, shaking his head firmly and looking her in the eye. "He nearly raped you, Verity. He's not getting away with that. He's got no right."

"I know, but what can I do?" Verity asked from Mark. "I can't lose anymore clients."

"I can do something about it," Mark said and he moved to his feet, the anger now flowing freely through him. Verity scrambled from the bed as Mark grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it. She moved to stand in front of him, blocking his way to the door and clinging to his shoulders.

"What? You're going to go and beat him up?" she asked from him.

"It'll teach the little shit a lesson!" Mark snapped back and she knew that he wasn't yelling at her. He was yelling at the situation and she understood that. She wanted to yell too. She wanted to lash out at how unfair it all was, but she understood the way the world worked.

"And what happens then?" she demanded from him. "You're a police officer, Mark. You can't go round beating people up. You'll lose your job and he's not worth that. He's not worth any of it."

"He's not getting away with laying a hand on you," Mark said.

"And I know that you want to do this to protect me, but I don't want you to because it will only hurt me more…to lose my job…you lose your job…and he isn't worth it. Please, Mark. Please, just think about this."

"I am thinking about it," he sniped back. "And at the moment, I don't care about the consequences for me."

"If you don't care about them…then don't do this for me," Verity pleaded with him and Mark glanced down to her as she moved her hands to grab hold of his cheeks and he saw the tears spilling from her cheeks and the pleading in her eyes. "Mark, please, for me…please…just leave this."

And he knew she had him then. He would do anything for her. And if that meant not lashing out then he would do it. He shook his head slowly and he let out a deep breath. Verity wondered if she had gotten through to him. She nodded at him and stood on her toes to kiss his cheeks, her arms moving to link around his neck, urging for him to hold her back. It took him a moment, but he moved his arms around her waist.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I've got you, Ver," Mark promised her, kissing the top of her head before burying his cheek there.

He might not be going to beat Matthew to a pummel, but he knew that Matthews knew about how to get results at work. He knew how to make a conviction stick. Maybe it was him who he could talk to? Because he wasn't going to let the kid get away with what he had done to the woman he was falling in love with.

...

A/N: Thank you to my guest reviewer! I am glad you are enjoying so far - everything happening now will lead up to the films so please do stick with me and let me know what you think!