The Heiress

"Isn't this a bit too dressed up? And how'd you get them to agree to give me the gun back?" Grace asked as she slipped the thigh holster on. An image of Zain putting it on her popped into her head, and she could practically feel his fingers sliding against her. Her cheeks reddened, and she shook her head.

"It's a dinner with the boss; of course, you need to look nice. And what's wrong, dear? You don't have a fever, do you?" Mary asked.

"What? No... I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You're looking a bit flushed."

"Y-yeah, I'm sure." Don't think about that hooligan!

"As for the gun, Zain asked for you to have it, saying trouble follows you everywhere, and we'd be doing you a disservice by keeping you away from a weapon, or something along those lines."

"Trouble follows me?"

"Yes, or so he claims. He's been busier and in more danger since you showed up."

"I don't think it's fair to blame me for that."

Mary chuckled and gave her a nudge. "You don't have to take it so seriously. We all know this has to do with you being the heir to the Bertolottiss. You are set up to be a powerful woman around here."

"Aren't I just being used for the next in line? Otherwise, he would've tried to give me the title of 'boss' next, right?"

"Is that what's bothering you? I thought you didn't even want to be here."

"That's a bit hard to describe. I both want to get to know my grandpa, and use this family for the better, but I also want to uphold the law, many of which this family breaks. It's all so complicated, and it's been thrown at me in a way I have no choice but to accept things. The only thing I can do is make the best of this situation, and try to get my friend out. None of this is fair to him."

"At least he's well fed."

"True, he loves to eat."

Knock, knock. "Are you ready yet? It's time to go," Zain said from the other side of the door. He knocked again when they didn't answer. "Don't do this to me again, Grace. I'm going to worry every time you don't answer after what you put me through."

"Did he really panic that much? I figured he'd be nonchalant about it," Grace whispered to her.

"I know he likes to act tough, but he's a big softy, and you definitely scared the living daylights out of him. I don't think I've ever seen him so panicked," Mary whispered back.

"You sure it's not just because he'd be in serious trouble if something actually happened to me?"

Mary shrugged. "I suppose that could be a part of it, but I doubt it's the whole reason. You know, since you came here, he's been—"

Knock, knock. "Grace! Don't make me break this door, too." Zain touched the door lightly as he tried to concentrate on listening.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Grace rushed over and opened the door. "Have a little patience, please." She stood there with her hands on her hips in a sleek, black cocktail dress.

"Please answer me quicker next time." He sighed and then trailed his eyes down her. "For a cop, you sure look good in a dress."

"I'm not really a cop anymore, although I'm not sure what difference that makes."

"Maybe I just always think of cops in uniforms, and I haven't run into too many female cops that look like you."

Grace lightly touched his chin to stop his gaping. "Careful, looks like you're going to start drooling soon." She sauntered by him.

"A few days here, and she's changed so much," Zain said to Mary before following Grace downstairs.

She stopped at the entrance. "I feel like I should have a purse with me or something."

"Why? It's not like you'll need to personally pay for anything while you're with the boss or me."

"Are you saying if I went shopping with you, you'd pay for it all?"

"Technically, I should use money set aside for you by the boss, but as long as it's not something insane, yes, I could." He thought for a moment. "I would. Why? Are you going to ask to go shopping? Going to start acting like a rich heiress now?"

"I wouldn't mind grabbing a couple of things, but I'll pass on that."

Zain shrugged. "You're allowed outside with the proper people with you."

"Meaning you."

"Basically, but he's been wondering if we should have a few more people with you at all times on the outside."

"Ha... A whole crew? I should just stay at home and turn into a shut-in."

"Don't say that," Ray said from the top of the stairs. "You're too beautiful to be hidden away to that extent."

"Then how about she proves how badass she is, and no one will mess with her?" Zain suggested.

"How well did that work for you, Zain? You proved yourself and got challenged more."

"It's not the same for women."

"You're right; she'll have men after her hoping to 'conquer' her—"

"Isn't that one of the reasons to marry her off? Helps stave off the rift-raft..." Zain trailed off when Grace glared at him.

"What was that? Please tell me that's not one of the reasons for this." She turned back to Ray. "Right, grandpa?"

"O-of course not, Gracey."

Zain turned around, holding onto his face. He knew he screwed up.

"For a mobster, that was a pretty bad lie." Grace sighed. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. Are we going or not?"

"Yes, let's go." Ray followed after her. He smacked Zain in the back of the head as he passed by him.

"Sorry, Boss," Zain mumbled.

Outside, a man in a suit was leaning against a Mercedes-Benz as he stared at his phone.

"Bobby," Ray called out to him. "I'd like for you to officially meet Grace." He motioned his hand to her.

Bobby looked up from his phone and nodded to her. "Call me Guns." He moved to open the back door for Ray and Grace.

"He's Bobby 'Guns' Robert," Zain whispered to her.

"Guns? Wait, his name is Bobby Robert?" Grace frowned.

"Yup." He nudged her forward to sit in the back beside Ray. "Scooch over a bit." He sat down next to her, wedging her between them.

"Why don't one of you sit in the front with Bobby?" Grace asked as she tried to make herself smaller. "It's not like I'm going to dive out of a moving vehicle."

"There are plenty of stops, but that's not why we're squishing you in there."

"Let me guess, for my safety?"

"Naturally."

Grace sighed. "I swear, if I grew up here with you, grandpa, I'd be a spoilt, protected, rich heiress of the mafia."

"And I would've been fine with that." Ray smiled at her.

Zain leaned in to whisper to her. "I know what you're thinking. He's too nice to be a mob boss. And while he is a gentleman, I assure you, he's only this nice to you."

I wasn't thinking that. "Actually, I was thinking he should be in the middle. Protect the boss, right?"

"More like 'protect what's most precious to the boss', right, Boss?"

"Of course," Ray agreed, and patted Grace on the head.

I feel like a little kid when I'm with him. It was a bit bittersweet to her. With her parents' deaths, she had to grow up fast. Even though her other grandparents took care of her, she always did her best to help them out. They had been gone for a few years now, one going after the other due to heartbreak, so she'd been on her own for a while.

Sitting in the back of the car with them, an odd sense of familial comfort came over her. She gripped her hands tightly in her lap and tears formed in her eyes. She tilted her head forward, trying to hide her face with her hair.

Damn it... I haven't cried over them in a long time. Why now?! I hate crying with other people around.

Grace quickly wiped them away before they could fall.

"Gracey, is something wrong?" Ray asked.

She swallowed hard. "Nope; allergies are acting up, that's all."

"You have allergies?" Ray exchanged a knowing look with Zain. "I didn't know you had any."

"Yup, and they act up at the most random times. Sorry."

"No need to apologize." Ray wanted to suggest seeing an allergist, but he suspected it wasn't allergies at all. "I hope it doesn't ruin your dinner."

"No food allergies that I know of, just airborne ones..."

"I have to ask, does that include smoke?" Zain asked.

"Ah, yes; please don't smoke near me. Lungs will hurt and everything."

"That sucks..."

"Why? Do you smoke? I haven't seen anyone smoking since I got here."

"The boss is pretty strict about a lot of things, and he doesn't allow it indoors. Trust me, there are plenty of men here that do, but it's always outside and away from the house. Might not want to visit the gazebo in the back; they like to use that as their space for it."

"Good to know, thanks." Too bad, though, it sounds like it would've been a good place to relax otherwise. I wonder how much grandpa has kept an eye on me all these years. I doubt he'd tell me. She sighed and glanced at Ray. He had a firm expression as he looked out the window, watching the scenery go by. Who knows what's going through his mind? He brought me here, and we've barely talked. Although, I guess that's what tonight is for.

"This whole area is under our protection," Zain whispered to her.

"Isn't the 'protection' offered by the mafia usually from the ones supposedly doing the protecting?"

"There are a lot of gangs that try to come into our area and mess people up; we deal with them. Someone's trying to deal drugs on the street or peddle arms? We deal with them, too."

"So only you guys are allowed to cause trouble on the streets?" Grace shook her head. "Bunch of troublemakers pretending to be good."

"It saddens me to hear you say that, but you'll understand how we've changed in due time," Ray said.

"Changed?"

"Yes... we used to be quite a bit worse, but over the years – decades – I've cleaned it up. I guess there's more to do."

"I know you guys are mafia. By definition, you're a part of organized crime; I'm not expecting you to be clean."

"We can at least strive to not cross some lines that would be too much for you."

"As much as I'd like that, how would you get the rest of the Bertolottiss to do that? I'm sure there are ones who do things behind your back, too."

"Be careful what you ask about, bella; you might not like what you find." Zain smirked and looked out the window.

Bella? New nickname? "What are you implying?"

"Part of my dark side. My men follow my rules because they've learned the consequences," Ray said, and a chill ran down her spine.

Holy crap. She shuttered. I hate not knowing, but that scared even me.

"We're here," Zain said, drawing her out of her daze. He got out and offered his hand. "Welcome to Palermo Pasta, your father's favourite restaurant."