Alfie Solomons was a man who always remembered the smaller details about people the first time he met them; what they were wearing, the tone of their voice, any mannerisms or twitches that they tried to conceal. Alfie noticed them all. In fact, he prided himself upon knowing these things, which was why it irked him more than anything else in the world that he couldn't remember anything about her.

Christina Powell had been working for him now for seven months or so, and he could tell you what the weather was like on the day she had come for the job interview. He could tell you that Ollie had pissed him off that morning by knocking over a whole casket of rum and then bumbling about like an idiot in an attempt to have it cleaned up. He could tell you that he had been perusing a very interesting piece of paper that contained all sorts of juicy information about Tommy Shelby and his family. He could even tell you that when she knocked on the office door at exactly one o'clock on the dot as arranged; her raps against the wood her delicate yet firm. But after that everything started to become a little blurred around the edges.

The second she had stepped through the door, he felt like he had the air knocked from his lungs. The only way he could describe it was like being in the trenches. A grenade had exploded only a few feet away from him and the power of the ground shaking beneath him had made him gasp for air like a fish out of water. It had made the world around him move in slow motion, and that was exactly how he had felt when he saw her. The first thing he noticed was long blonde hair followed by eyes that were so blue they looked like the sea in Margate on a beautiful summer's day. Once he caught sight of those eyes, he was lost and there was no coming back. All he knew was that every day when she walked in through the office door with that ever present chirpy smile on her face, his was entranced by those twinkling eyes and found it hard to focus on anything else.

Many a time he had grumbled to himself, waging an internal battle about whether it would just be easier to fire her and then he wouldn't have to find himself distracted by her day in day out. But the truth was that he wanted to be distracted by her. She somehow made his days better because even when he was shouting and bawling at her or Ollie, she would just shrug and then smile, taking the tongue lashing without question. Then a few minutes later she'd usually appear with a cup of tea and a slice of cake from the actual bakery that he used as a front for his bakery.

Yep. The truth was that Alfie Solomons was hopelessly infatuated with his assistant. But as long as he tried his best to maintain a professional distance for the most part then he would be able to withhold from acting out one of the many fantasies that tore through his brain on a daily basis, usually rendering him with a rock hard erection that he was surprised didn't make his desk lift right off the fucking floor.

"Morning Alfie," Christina smiled as she breezed into the office with her usual chirpiness.

"Mornin'," Alfie grumbled, frowning when a tub was set down right on top of the papers he was in the middle of reading through. "What's this?"

"Breakfast," Christina answered. "I had a feeling you were going to be here early and if I'm right, which lets face it I usually am, you haven't eaten since last night."

"So you made me breakfast?" he lifted the lid and eyed the contents warily. So much for keeping a professional distance.

"It's not a stick of dynamite, Alfie," she rolled her eyes at him, hanging up her coat on the back of her chair. "If you don't want to eat it, then I'll have it for lunch."

"I never said I didn't want it, did I?" Alfie pulled a face at her. "Fuckin' hell, you can't offer someone summit and then take it away again."

"I can if that person receives it ungratefully," Christina smirked.

"Well in that case, Christina, the loveliest and most considerate assistant that has ever existed, thank you so much for this gift of heavenly breakfast made by your own fair hand and delivered with such warmth and kindness to the desk of me, your hungry and food deprived boss," he said sarcastically.

"Oh piss off," she tutted, gathering up her blonde hair into a pony tail. She had hair that was so long it reached her lower back, but she apparently couldn't stand the feel of it on her face while she worked so she tied it up once she got into the office and let it back down at the end of the day.

"Is that any way to talk to the man what pays your wages?" Alfie pretended to be put out. "But luckily for you I'm in a forgivin' mood today as it goes so I'll forget I heard those words leave your mouth."

"How kind," Christina muttered. "So what's on the agenda for today?"

"I've got that meetin' with Mr Schroedin' at ten and I need you there to take notes because I can never understand a work that bastard says but somehow you manage to understand him no problem."

"What can I say?" Christina shrugged and grinned. "I'm a woman of many talents, Mr Solomons."

Alfie nearly choked on the egg he was eating as he tried his hardest not to imagine her calling him Mr Solomons in that sweet voice while she showed him just some of those many talents.

"Please try and die quietly," she teased, coming over to pat him on the back and grab a pencil from his desk at the same time. Alfie swallowed down the food in his mouth and tried not to inhale the scent of lavender that floated up his nose.

"Who's dying?" Ollie asked, walking through the open door without knocking.

"Alfie," Christina grinned, sitting back down at her desk. "I told him to be a bit quieter because I've got work to do but you know what he's like; loves to be the centre of attention."

Ollie chuckled quietly, ignoring the glare that Alfie shot him. For some reason, Ollie always felt a little braver when Christina was around because she had a way of making Alfie behave more… well, reasonable. Ollie would never say it out loud but he was certain that Alfie and Christina had a bit of a thing for each other, not that either would ever admit it.

"What do you want Ollie?" Alfie grumbled, although without his usual acidity.

"This just came for you," Ollie answered, holding up a brown paper envelope with a messy handwritten scrawl bearing Alfie's name on it.

"Well who's it from?" Alfie asked impatiently. Ollie always opened the post and sorted it out for Alfie, or passed it to Christina if it was something she could deal with. As much as he could, Alfie preferred to keep her away from the shady side of business.

"I… uh," Ollie scratched his head awkwardly.

"Oh spit it out, Ollie," Alfie tutted, completely oblivious to the fact that Ollie was desperate to talk alone with Alfie. In the end Ollie realised he was going to have to get rid of Christina himself.

"Um Christina, I couldn't ask you a massive favour, could I?"

"What's that Ollie bobs?" she smiled sweetly, looking up from her paperwork.

"I wondered if perhaps you might go down to the chemist and get me something for my head," Ollie said off the top of his head. "I've got an awful headache that just won't go."

"I've got some aspirin in my bag that you can have," Christina offered.

"No! I mean, er, I've tried them already but they're not working," Ollie stammered. "I think I need some of that salve that you can rub on your forehead. The menthol one."

"Is that right?" Christina smirked, standing up and grabbing her coat. "I think I know what's really going on here Ollie."

"You do?" he frowned.

"Yep," Christina nodded. "I think that you don't want to go yourself because you fancy the girl that works in there."

"Guilty," Ollie blushed, wondering just how she knew that. He did have a bit of a crush on the girl in the chemist shop and the last time he went in there to get something, he managed to knock an entire shelf of bandages and plasters off the wall and had ran out completely mortified.

"Don't you worry, Ollie," Christina patted his arm reassuringly as she walked past. "I'll spare you the embarrassment. Do you need anything Alfie? Some oil for your old, creaky bones? A tablet to make you stop being a moody bugger?"

"Fuck off," Alfie tutted. "Hurry back yeah? I don't pay you to run errands for Ollie."

Her breathy chuckle could be heard as she clomped down the stairs in the shiny black heels she wore. God, Alfie remembered the first time she had turned up in those heels because he swore he almost died right there and then. The way they made her legs look even longer in the pencil skirt she had on made his cock take on a life of his own and Alfie had to disappear rather hastily to sort the fucker out. Christ, he could feel himself getting hard under the table and almost growled in annoyance.

"I didn't want to show you this in front of Christina," Ollie said, breaking Alfie from his sinful thoughts. In fact, Alfie had almost forgotten Ollie was even there.

"And why the fuck not," Alfie scowled, snatching the envelope from Ollie's hand.

It was already opened, of course, and Alfie perched his glasses upon his nose so he could read the letter inside. His eyes thundered as they traced the hastily written words and he scrunched the piece of paper up in his hand angrily.

She's a right pretty piece that secretary of yours. Does she lick your cock as well as she licks those envelopes she seals for you? Did you know that she moans your name when she's asleep at night? I wonder if she'll be a good little girl for me when I finally get my hands on her? I wonder if she'll be moaning my name by the time I'm through with her? I reckon a real man is what she needs and not some dirty fucking Jew. And when I'm done with her, I've got men that wouldn't mind having a go as well. A lot of men, in fact. Watch your back, Solomons. And hers.

P.S. I hope you enjoy the little surprise inside there. Can you believe I managed to grab them right off the bedroom floor while she was fast asleep? Still soaking wet with whatever sweet little fantasy she'd envisaged before bed they were.

Alfie tipped the envelope upside down and growled when a pair of black lace knickers fell onto his desk. Alfie fingered his beard in a motion that Ollie recognised as the one that would either calm Alfie or make him explode. He was furious. They, whoever the fuck they were, had been into her house. They had fucking touched her things while she slept. He wanted to scream and shout; he wanted to wrap his hands around their scrawny fucking throat and squeeze the life right out of them. And he would. As soon as he found out who this was, he was going to make sure they suffered the most agonisingly slow and painful death he could offer.

"I take it you've read the letter," Alfie finally looked at Ollie.

"Yes," Ollie nodded, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "As soon as I saw it, I thought you'd want to see it too. That's why I sent Christina out on an errand because I didn't want her to hear it."

Alfie stood up suddenly, his chair falling backwards as he hurried towards the door. He didn't even stop to grab his cane. He limped down the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Alfie where are you going?" Ollie was hot on his heels, his voice laced with worry.

"To find her," Alfie spat. "I always knew you was thick Ollie but this just takes the piss. You sent her out on her own after readin' that letter? What the fuck is the matter with you? If they know where she lives, don't you think they've got eyes on her when she's here as well?"

"I'm sorry, Alfie," Ollie felt sick as he realised he had potentially put Christina in danger. "I didn't think."

"Of course you didn't because you never fuckin' do!"

Alfie tore through the streets like a madman, pushing past anyone who got in his way and ignoring the courteous greetings from the people of Camden. All he could focus on was finding his way to the chemist shop and looking for that blonde hair that would be shining in the sunshine. He practically ripped the door of the chemist off its hinges and almost had the girl that worked there in tears when he demanded to know where Christina was. The terrified girl explained that she had left a few minutes ago and mentioned something about calling into the florists. Alfie was gone before she had even finished speaking and when he saw her a little further down the street, chatting with old Mrs Jameson outside the florists he felt his knees almost give out from beneath him.

"Oi, what the fuck are you doin'?"

"Alfie," Christina smiled. The smile quickly turned into a frown when she saw the fury on Alfie's face as he thundered towards her. She hissed as he gripped her angrily by the arm and began to drag her back down the street. "Ouch, Alfie that hurts. What the fuck are you doing?"

"What the fuck am I doin'?" he spat. "I'm not the one pissin' about and chattin' on the streets when I'm being paid to work."

"I was getting stuff for Ollie, you know that."

"Didn't know they sold fuckin' headache remedies in the flower shop."

"Look if you just get off of me for one minute," she tried to yank her arm out of his grasp, but he pulled her against his chest and gritted his teeth angrily. "I don't understand why you're so angry."

"I'm angry because you think you can just flounce about doing whatever you want and you'll flash me that pretty little smile and wrap me around your finger. Well, I've got news for you, love, it won't work anymore."

"I wasn't flouncing about doing whatever I wanted," she argued, yanking her hand out of his grip finally. "I know it's the anniversary of your Mum's passing tomorrow and you once told me that yellow carnations were her favourite. So I ordered some to go on her fucking grave you nasty bastard. I know you don't do flowers but I wanted to send something because you always spoke of her so highly and I reckon I would have liked her. And more than that I did it because I don't just think of you as my boss, I think of you as my friend. But you can take your flowers and shove them up your arse."

Alfie ran his hand through his hair as he watched her stomp angrily up the road. Her shoulders were shaking and he knew she was crying. He felt like such a fucking bastard. He hadn't meant to shout at her. The truth was that he wasn't even angry at her, he was just terrified that something could have happened to her. But he couldn't have just told her that. No, he had to just fuck everything up and have a go at her for nothing. As he watched her disappear round the corner and into the bakery, he sighed. He knew he had to tell her the truth but he just didn't know how. She was only in this position because of him and he had never felt so helpless in all of his life.

…

Christina didn't speak to Alfie for the rest of the morning and even into the afternoon. If he asked her a question regarding work she would give a very curt one word answer. She attended the meeting with Mr Schroeding, laughing politely at the man's rubbish jokes and the second he left, she turned her back on Alfie and continued to ignore him. He knew the angry thumping on the typewriter keys was a way at venting her anger towards him, and also because she knew the sound gave him an awful headache.

The phone rang and Christina answered it with her usual politeness, pencil at the ready to take any necessary notes. She scribbled down a few words furiously, frowning at the strange muffled voice of the person on the other end of the line.

"Who was that?" Alfie asked.

"No idea," she shrugged. "They said to pass this message on to you and that you would know who it was from."

Alfie looked at the piece of paper in her outstretched hand and his eyes narrowed.

I wonder what colour they are today and whether they're wet yet?

"Did you recognise the voice?" he asked, unable to look her in the eye.

"No," she shook her head. "The line was all crackly and muffled. What does that message even mean?"

"Oh don't worry," he smiled. "It's just someone I know pissin' around."

"Fair enough," Christina muttered. She didn't really care if she was being honest and she was still trying to act aloof and in a mood so she didn't want to show too much interest. "Oh and by the way, you've got that meeting over at Massam's in twenty minutes. You pencilled it in a few weeks ago."

"Oh shit, I forgot about that," Alfie tutted. "Right, well he's a lecherous little git who's living off of his old man's money so I don't want you anywhere near him. I'll take Ollie with me."

"Alright then," she nodded, gathering up the paperwork Alfie needed to take with him. Their hands brushed briefly as he took them from her and they both looked at each other hesitantly.

"Listen Christina, about before-"

"- Don't worry yourself about it, Mr Solomons," she said with a feigned smile, one that didn't reach her eyes and looked horribly strained.

"Well, I'm sorry yeah," he cleared his throat, uncomfortable with apologies but unable to leave without making one. "Can I ask you to do one thing while I'm gone?"

"Of course," she nodded. "That's what you pay me for after all."

Alfie ignored the thinly veiled jab with great difficulty but there were more pressing matters to attend to at that moment. "Listen, don't leave the bakery while I'm gone, ok?"

"Pardon?" she knitted her eyebrows together questioningly before a look of understanding crossed her face. "So much for your apology. You think that while your back's turned I'm gonna go off and- what was the word you used- flounce about? I'll have you know that never once in my time working here have I ever abused your trust and I don't intend to start now."

"I know that," Alfie sighed. "And I know you think I'm bein' a right twat, but it is imperative that you don't leave the bakery while I'm gone. Not for any reason at all ok? Me and Ollie need to go somewhere, but I'll make sure everyone else knows not to let you leave."

"Are you taking the piss?" Christina was actually outraged. "So you don't trust me to do as I'm told so you're gonna tell the men to watch me? I'm not fucking five, Alfie!"

"Look, I'll explain everything to you when I get back, yeah?" Alfie promised, grabbing his coat and hat from the stand by the door. "And if you promise me you won't leave then I'll trust your word and not tell the men to watch you."

"I promise," she pouted, sitting back down on her chair with a huff.

Alfie sighed again. His hands twitched, aching to reach out for her and tell her that he was only trying to keep her safe. But instead, he left without saying another word.

Christina allowed herself to cry for just a few minutes once she was sure Alfie had left. It was pathetic to be crying over a man and she knew she was going to ruin her make up, so she forced herself to blink back any more tears. Alfie had proved that he wasn't worth her time or her tears so she needed to just concentrate on doing her work and thinking of him only in a professional sense. But the problem was that her stomach clenched even at the thought of seeing him as nothing else. She was desperate for him to be more than that. He was ruggedly handsome and she adored his scruffy hair and beard. There was just something so manly about him which was refreshing in a world full of men who tried to look suave and well dressed. A very small part of her thought that Alfie might have been developing feelings for her as well, and she was hopeful that he was going to make a move at some point. Obviously, she couldn't have been any more wrong. Stupid, stupid girl.

With a sigh, she got up to go to the bathroom. Given that she was the only female in the entire building, Alfie had thankfully deemed it unacceptable for her to share the men's lavatories and so had had one installed for her in a disused room on the upstairs corridor. She hated going up there because there was no natural light and it was always pitch black and full of cobwebs. Alfie always teased her and told her it was haunted, not that she ever believed him of course. But then she would get up into the corridor and for a second the creaking of the old pipes seemed like something a lot more sinister.

"Stop being a baby, Christina," she muttered to herself as the sound of her heels echoed along the corridor. She had a small wind up torch that Alfie had gotten for her but the light was so dull that it didn't really help all that much.

She heard a noise behind her and stopped. Holding her breath, she turned and called out nervously to see who was there. Of course, she was greeted with only silence and she rolled her eyes at herself with a chuckle. Her mother always did say she had an overactive imagination. Shaking her head, she turned back around and collided into someone who most definitely had not been there before. A hand clamped over her mouth before she could even scream for help. She kicked and lashed out but something hit the side of her head and that was when everything went black.

…

Alfie was in a foul mood. The meeting was a disaster, as expected, and it had taken every inch of self control he possessed not to punch that little Massam twerp in the face when he tried to offer Alfie the shittiest deal known to mankind. Spoilt little bastard. And his mood only soured further when he saw that Christina wasn't at her desk. Where the fuck was she?

"Where the fuck is she?" he growled.

"I don't know, Alfie," Ollie shrugged.

"Of course you don't fuckin' know you fuckin' idiot cos you've been with me, aint ya?" Alfie tutted.

"She's probably just gone to the toilet or something," Ollie offered by way of explanation, and even Alfie had to admit it seemed like a plausible suggestion.

"Right, yeah," he nodded, sitting down at his desk and tapping his fingers impatiently. "We'll just wait for her to come back then I suppose."

Minutes passed. Seven to be precise and Alfie patience grew thin.

"Perhaps she's got a, er, bad stomach," Ollie said as delicately as he could.

"Hmm," Alfie grunted, trying to pretend he wasn't all that bothered but he couldn't deny the strange feeling in his gut. Something just didn't seem quite right.

The phone rang and he knew. He just knew it was them; the faceless and nameless tormenter.

"Are you missing someone Mr Solomons?" the muffled voice asked.

"Where the fuck is she?" Alfie growled. "If you've fuckin' hurt her I'll-"

"-Calm down, Mr Solomons," the voice chuckled. "I already told you I wouldn't want to do anything to hurt her, not until I've had my fun with her anyway."

"You lay one fuckin' finger on her mate and I will rip you limb from limb," Alfie spat. The receiver threatened to crack in his hand as he squeezed it angrily. His face was red and he was positively seething. Even Ollie didn't think he'd ever seen the man look so angry.

"So quick to temper aren't you, Mr Solomons?" the voice chuckled again. "You can have her back unharmed in exchange for something I want even more than her."

"What?"

"Fifty thousand pounds."

"Fuck off," Alfie scoffed.

"Your choice then," the voice said simply.

All of a sudden, Alfie could hear a scuffling noise and then he heard her; Christina. He heard the sound fabric tearing and then she screamed again like banshee, begging an assailant who was invisible to Alfie to stop. Alfie could have been sick right there and then. There was only one way to deal with these sorts of people and giving them what they wanted wasn't it. You didn't bargain and acquiesce to their demands because then they knew they had the upper hand. But the problem was that all of that thinking flew out of the window because never before had he risked losing something that meant more to him than any amount of money or status.

"Alright you can have the money, just don't hurt her," Alfie said desperately, unable to stop the crack in his voice.

"A wise choice, Mr Solomons," the voice hummed. "You have one hour to get the money and you will bring it to the warehouse on the dock road; the one with the broken windows, and you'll come alone. Once I am satisfied that the full amount is there, you will get Miss Powell back."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't," the voice replied. "One hour Mr Solomons. The clock is ticking."

…

Alfie's cane clanked along the concrete floor and his feet shuffled slowly as though he was merely out for a stroll. He gave off a cool and calm persona, but inside he was falling to pieces. The palms of his hands were clammy and his heart was racing. The briefcase in his hand threatened to slip from his grasp every so often until he tightened his grip around the handle.

"So you came," a voice spoke; the same voice he recognised from the phone.

Alfie narrowed his eyes as a short, plump man came into view. His face was pockmarked and his hair slicked back and greasy. He reminded Alfie on a rat; sly and untrustworthy.

"Where is she?" Alfie demanded.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr Solomons," the man smiled coldly, holding out a hand. "I'm Peter Myers and I've been very interested in you for some time now. Pleased to meet you."

"Fuck off," Alfie growled, spitting at the man's feet to show just what he thought of him. "I ain't come here to play nice; I want Christina back. Right now.:

"All in good time, Mr Solomons," the man smiled coldly. "I trust you've brought the money?"

Alfie threw the briefcase down at the man's feet with a thud, causing the man to chuckle.

"You know, I was always told that Alfie Solomons wouldn't be easy to blackmail and to take money from, but the truth is that I just needed the correct leverage," Myers smirked as one of his lackeys appeared and began to count the money right there on the floor. "Do you love her, Mr Solomons? Or is she just something to sink your cock into when the mood takes you? I can't say I blame you, mind. She really is exquisite."

Alfie clenched his jaw together and his fist clenched tightly around his cane. He wasn't going to be goaded into doing something stupid; not when he was so close to having her back.

"It's all there," the man counting the money confirmed.

"Very well," the fat man nodded. "Then it's time for me to keep my end of the deal."

A side door on the other side of the room opened and Alfie's heart leapt up into his throat when he saw her being dragged towards him. She had dried blood down the side of her head and her blouse was torn and filthy, but apart from that she looked relatively unharmed.

"Alfie," she sobbed when she saw him, and the relief on her face was tangible when she was thrust into his arms.

"It was nice doing business with you," Myers said, gathering up the briefcase and backing out of the warehouse with his two henchmen beside him.

"Are you alright?" he whispered. He didn't even care about the men who were now heading towards the exit with smug grins on their faces. All he cared about was Christina.

"I'm sorry," she cried, burying her face into his chest. "I'm sorry you had to pay them."

"I don't wanna hear that," Alfie kissed the top of her head. Cradling her face in his hands, he lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes and kissed her forehead gently. "I would pay every single penny I possess if it meant I could keep you safe."

"You would?" she sniffed, tears dripping down her face.

"I would," he nodded, brushing his lips against hers softly. "I love you, Christina."

"You love me?" she whispered.

"More than anythin' in the world, you daft mare," Alfie murmured resting his forehead against hers. "When I thought I'd lost you I-"

"-But you didn't lose me," she smiled, cupping his face and bringing his lips to hers again. "I love you, Alfie."

"Aw well isn't that sweet," Myers chortled from the doorway. "But surely you didn't think it was going to be that easy, Mr Solomons?"

The shot rang out before Alfie even knew it was coming and when he felt Christina go limp in his arms he screamed like the bullet had pierced him instead.

"Alfie," she screwed up her face in agony as Alfie lowered her gently to the floor and tried desperately to stem the bleeding from her stomach.

Outside he heard shouting followed by more gunshots, and in a split second Ollie was by his side; his face turning pale when he saw Christina barely conscious.

"They're dead," Ollie muttered.

But Alfie didn't care nor did he feel any relief that his men waiting patiently outside had killed his tormentor and his associates.

"Christina," Alfie slapped her face lightly. "Stay awake, love. Come on, don't close your eyes. Ollie don't just stand there, get a fuckin' ambulance! Christina, sweetheart, come on, stay with me. Christina!"

…

Six months later

"Christina!"

Alfie sat up with a lurch as the sweat poured off of him. The same nightmare plagued his sleep every night and each time it felt so real. The copper smell of the blood pouring out of her body; the ice cold touch of her skin as the life drained out of her. His heart was beating erratically and he ran a hand over his face, wiping away the tears that had fallen while he slept.

"Alfie," a soft croak broke him from his thoughts along with a gentle hand on his bare shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Just a bad dream, love," he turned and stared down at Christina with a smile.

She reached for him with her arms and he was helpless to resist her. Allowing her to pull his head against her chest, she stroked his hair as he ran his hands up and down the length of her body, faltering slightly when he reached the scar to the left of her belly button.

"I'm fine, Alfie, and I'm not going anywhere," she took his hand and brought it to her mouth to kiss.

"I know," he lifted his head to look at her. "I just can't believe he nearly took you from me."

"But he didn't," she reminded him, taking his hand and placing it in between their bodies. "Now why don't you do us both a favour and remind me of just how alive we are?"

Alfie grinned. He certainly didn't need asking twice.