"Close the door."

George Keene was talking to me. I knew he was. But I didn't have the strength or the present capacity to move. I just stood in the threshold, frozen, staring at the brutal scene before me. Camden stepped forward after a moment and came toward me. He grabbed the door and shut it tightly before training his penetrating gaze on me. He was only inches away.

"Don't run," he whispered and my eyes snapped to his. I felt Cecily move away from me, the scene in front of us doing a great deal to sober her up. She leaned against the wall by the door and merely observed the events with an indifferent frown. I watched her transformation as Camden crossed the floor again to take his position beside his brothers.

"Mr. Davis," George Keene announced formally when everyone was back in place. He stood from where he had been kneeling and stretched his arms out in front of him, loosening his fingers and flexing his bruised fists. "We're going to try this again. Why were you seen exiting the police station on Cable Street yesterday afternoon?"

"I-I swear, Mr. Keene. I didn't-"

"I don't trust desperate men, Mr. Davis," Mr. Keene interrupted, not bothering to glance the man's way as he removed his watch and set it aside. A feeling of dread clawed at my heart as he turned back to face his prey. "And you're quite desperate indeed. How high is your debt now, Mr. Davis? Eighty thousand?"

I felt my lips part in surprise. Eighty thousand?

"I've another game this weekend, Mr. Keene. I can win back your money. If you would just-" Mr. Davis tried again.

"The problem, Mr. Davis, is that you do not win," George Keene spoke again, approaching the man and leaning over him. "The emeralds lessened your debt. In fact, they look quite lovely on my dear daughter. But eighty thousand remains. And you come to me with only a plan to lose even more?"

"No! I won't- I cannot lose, sir. The odds-"

"Wise men do not make their income gambling, Mr. Davis. There comes a time in which I must cut you off, a time in which I have to demand repayment. That time has come and gone and here I am, still eighty thousand short. And yet you sit here asking me for more."

Tears began to stream down Mr. Davis' face at George Keene's words, leaving a clean white streak upon his cheeks in their wake.

"P-please," Mr. Davis stammered. I saw Camden close his eyes at that. George Keene's lips pulled into a frown and he nodded at his sons behind the sniveling man in front of them.

William stepped forward, making his way around to Mr. Davis, and punched him hard in the stomach. I jumped as Mr. Davis expelled a breath and wheezed in pain. William did not hesitate. He merely reared back and launched another assault upon the same location. I held back my wince this time, forcing myself to watch. I needed to see this. I needed to remember it. I needed a reminder of the evil that I was up against.

When William pulled back again, Mr. Davis shifted instinctively to shield himself, caving his shoulders in to make the target area smaller. Michael reached out and gripped his shoulders, pulling them apart to expose him even more, and held him there as his brother unleashed another barrage. I looked to Camden. He stood still, breathing slowly through his nose, jaw clenched in what almost seemed to be disapproval.

Another punch and I felt someone else's eyes upon me. I turned to see the patriarch of the family watching me closely, hand on his chin in observation. As his son plunged his fists into the soft underbelly of his victim again and again, Mr. Keene approached me.

"Are you alright, Miss Marlowe?" he asked in blatant challenge, raising a brow to bait me. "You look ill."

I kept my eyes firmly on Mr. Davis who was now spitting blood onto the floor in front of him as more of it poured down his chin. I hardened my heart to the sight, doing my best to school my features into the same expression of indifference that it appeared Cecily had perfected, and prepared myself for the words I knew I must say, for the only way to ensure that the Keene family finally let me in, finally trusted me for real.

"It's business," I answered coolly, trying hard for an unaffected tone. "A man must protect his investments."

The beastly grin that split George Keene's lips in that moment was something I did not imagine I would ever forget.

"Cecily, take Miss Marlowe to a guest suite upstairs," he commanded easily. I fought the urge to look in his direction. He was still watching me, still gauging my reactions carefully. If I truly were as unbothered as I seemed to be, I would have no issue being trapped in this home with the most vicious family I had ever met. "A woman should not travel alone this late at night."

Before I could answer, Cecily grabbed me by the arm and pulled me along toward the stairs. I felt Camden watching me as I went but made every effort possible not to look back at him.

"I'm impressed," Cecily said when we had ascended the stairs to the second floor and were making our way toward whatever guest suite I would be occupying tonight. "Most people would have run screaming from what you just witnessed downstairs."

"I'm not most people," I told her.

"No," she answered, coming to an abrupt stop in the middle of the hall. I stopped as well and turned to face her. "You aren't. Gwen, would you like to stay here while you locate a place for your brother in London?"

I stared at her.

"I wouldn't want to impose," I started automatically before I could really think of anything better to say.

"It's no imposition," she assured me, eyes sparkling as she reached out for my hand and grasped it. I felt the urge to pull away given what I had just witnessed but forced myself, despite the sickness it made me feel, to remain perfectly still as she continued to sing my praises. "You've quickly become my closest companion and I would be thrilled to have you so close by. Besides, I happen to think the realtors in the city may take your inquests a bit more seriously if they know you're a personal friend of the Keene family's."

I forced a smile for her benefit, though it was a close lipped one. I felt that if I opened my mouth again, I would be sick all over their immaculate carpet. Cecily took a few steps forward and swung open a nearby door. I took a step inside and found the most beautiful bedchamber I had ever seen. It was elegantly decorated with the finest silks and the plushest comforts, but it was all a façade. There was no beauty here. Only a vile, gaudy masquerade. I stepped inside and gave her a nod as she closed my door and left me alone, sealing me away in the depths of their den.

Alone, I allowed myself to fall into a heap on the floor, every limb beginning to shake after I had managed to hold my nerves at bay for so long. I concentrated on controlling my breathing even as I felt warm tears streaming down my cheeks. I wrapped my arms around myself in an effort to still the shaking but it only worsened as I pressed my face into them to muffle my sobs.

The next morning, I rose having gotten perhaps an hour of sleep. I brightened my tired face in the mirror as best I could with the accoutrements of vanity left upon the shelves for my use before forcing a smile and wrenching open the door for a new day. Once I had finally calmed down the night before, I had managed to convince myself that this arrangement was for the best. As terrifying as it was, the closer I was to the Keene family, the easier it would be for me to gain the necessary understanding of their business to bring them down even quicker. If I could get them to trust me, to perhaps even divulge some of their more sinister crimes, if I could use them to find more witnesses against them, I might actually have a chance in seeing their criminal empire fall. And the only way to do that was to place myself directly in the middle and play my part flawlessly.

"Good morning, Miss Marlowe," someone called as I made my way through the foyer. I turned to see Mr. George Keene coming out from the hallway behind the stairs which led to his office. I smiled broader as I turned to face him. "I'm surprised to see we haven't scared you off."

"Of course not," I answered brightly. "I count Cecily among my dearest friends. And besides, it was merely business. I know how these things work."

"Do you?" he asked, cocking his head to the side before passing me on his way to the dining room and his breakfast. I did my best to ignore the chill snaking its way up my spine and took a breath.

"I'm sorry, Gwendolyn," someone else said suddenly and I turned to find Camden Keene emerging from the shadows of the foyer. How long had he been there? I just watched him as he approached and lowered his voice. "For what you saw last night. He never should have-"

"I meant what I said, Camden," I told him but I could hear the cold tone of my own voice. I fought to correct that as I continued. "I understand."

"He's not a bad man," he continued, though it wasn't necessary. I waited all the same, letting him speak whatever it was he felt like he needed to say. "None of them are. We aren't bad people. This is just... what we do. It's what we've always done. I know it can appear... brutal. But it isn't always. We help people too."

I doubted it. But I didn't say as much. Instead, I simply smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

"I'm sure you do, Camden. I'm sure you all do."

He glanced down at the contact and smiled.

"Are you warming up to me, Gwendolyn Marlowe?" he asked, that tone of arrogance returning easily enough. His moment of weakness had passed.

I raised a brow and answered. "Perhaps I am, Keene. What of it?"

He reached up to where my hand rested on his shoulder and lifted it carefully, taking it in his own. He kissed my palm and smiled up at me.

"Then I shall strive to remain in your good graces," he said with a smirk and then walked past me to join the remainder of his family in the dining room. I stood in the hall for a moment, alone, gathering my thoughts and pulling myself together before I followed.