She got Vinny to pick her up and take her home to Kings Road. He was incredibly suspicious, continuing to ask questions about why she was there, how she had got there, what Luca wanted, but Mollie May remained vague and quiet.

Once they got to her house, Vinny stopped the car. "You don't have to come in, Vinny. Go home." Vinny looked at her with wide eyes. "But,"

"No, Vinny, just go home. I want to be by myself." Vinny looked like he was going to protest, but then thought the better of it and closed his mouth. He nodded once and started the car again, pulling out of the drive only when he knew Mollie May had got inside safely.

She got in and slammed the door shut, letting her tears flow freely. A sob wracked her body and she held her hand to her mouth, then let it drop, walking to the kitchen and slumping in the chair.

The tears came for a while longer, and then an idea came to her mind. An idea that made her tears cease and a sly grin take their place.

She picked up the phone and dialled the familiar number. It rang, and rang, and rang. The waiting was excruciating. Finally, he picked up.

"Hello?" George King answered.

Mollie Mays heart nearly stopped. "Hello, George." "Mollie May?" George stated in shock more than questioned. "How've you been? I haven't heard from you in a while."

Mollie May breathed a smile, it had been so long since she had spoken to George, even though her nights were so long. "Yeah, I've been good. Listen, I need to ask a favour."

"Oh," she could hear George sigh. "I see. What do you want?"

She twisted her fingers around each other. She hated having to make contact with George to ask him for something, but at this stage, she had very little choice. "I can't say over the phone. Will you meet me this evening, opposite that restaurant you took me to?"

There was a moment of silence and then George agreed, "Seven oclock." And then he was gone.

At seven oclock, Mollie May was sitting on a little bench opposite the busy Italian restaurant. She could see waiters bustling around and families and couple sitting having dinner. Her eyes roamed the dimly lit street, searching for the familiar figure wearing a fedora hat, but she couldn't see him anywhere.

Fear started to raise up in her throat. Had he stood her up? Had he ratted her out to Luca and Emilia?

Then someone cleared their throat beside her. Mollie May spun round, standing to greet George King who was walking towards her. He still wore his huge grey coat which hung down to his calves. His fedora had been replaced with a grey Panama hat which had a black satin trim lining the top of it.

His smile twinkled in the darkening street and when he sat down beside Mollie May, she noticed that the dark circles had vanished from underneath his wise eyes. His skin didn't seem as stretched or dull and instead, his cheeks were a rosy colour.

Mollie May offered him the cream bun she had got for him and he took it with a kind nod. "How've you been, George? You're looking good." George raised an audacious eyebrow, tipping his hat to Mollie May, "I thought the same thing when I last looked in the mirror."

A bright smile cracked across Mollie Mays lips. A genuine smile, which hadn't existed for a long time.

"And, not forgetting my manners, you've moved up in the world too, since the last time I saw you." George chuckled, gesturing at Mollie Mays expensively cut black dress. Pearls adorned her neck; her hair was tucked up into a tidy bun and she wore black velvet gloves. To keep the cold at bay, she wore a black coat with chunky fur lining the wrists and collar of it.

Mollie May shrugged, making the fur roll, a sly smile on her red lips.

"And Benedetta? How is she?" "She's good. Life is easier now that I'm at home more." He looked sideways at her, "Everything is a lot easier now. No more Commission meetings. No more building bridges or starting wars. No more worrying about silly revolutions or the capos or anything."

Mollie May looked at the cream bun in her hands. "You can't see it from where you are now, but really, it's not as important as what it seems. In the grand scheme of life, there is so much more, Mollie May."

She met his eye when he fell silent and she realised he was just watching her; watching her reaction. She gaped at him with quizzical eyes. She had all she'd ever wanted; a big house, expensive clothes, top of the range cars, enough money to see her through to her death, power. But it had all turned bitter.

"I have nothing but this."

George shook his head, "I thought that too, but it's not true." "How is it not. I have no family, no friends, no kids of my own. I've got nothing I enjoy, no hobbies or past times. I've fallen into a hole and instead of climbing out I dug myself in deeper." She leaned back on the bench with a defeated sigh.

"If you could do it all again, would you still chose all this?" George asked her, taking a bite of his bun. Mollie May sat for a bit and thought. Then eventually she shook her head.

"No. I wouldn't."

"Well then, change it now." George told her, optimism tracing his voice. Mollie May ran her hand over her face frustratedly. "I told you I can't, alright. I don't know how to. So leave me be."

George shrugged, an equally defeated expression seeping onto his features. "What do you want then, Mollie May. Why did you ask me here?" Mollie May took a chunk of her cream bun, chewing it as she thought of the best way to phrase it.

"Emilia and Luca."

George stilled. "What about them?"

"Did you know about the two of them?"

"I did."

Mollie May fell silent, the thought of her confrontation with Luca made her cheeks heat up and her skin crawl. Her rage began to uncoiled and a fire filled her belly, she wasn't going to let them win.

"He's bad news, George. I want your help." She didn't look at George as he considered what she meant. "Mollie May, think very carefully about what you say." George warned her quietly.

"I know you have contacts in New York. Tell me more about him, his gang, his organisations, his weaknesses."

"You're asking me to rat on my daughter and her husband. What makes you think I would do that?"

Mollie May glanced over at him again, the man who had taken her under his wing for the last two years, the man who was the closest thing to her father. "I just thought," she muttered, her eyes filling up.

George sighed again, "I'm sorry Mollie May, but I can't do that. Not even for you." Then he stood up, tipping his hat to her and bidding her goodnight.

Then he walked off in the direction he had come from, leaving Mollie Mays head spinning with Emilia's words.

'I told you that my mother and father would never accept you. I told you that you would never be one of us.'