Gray and Green // Michael Gray

Shelby Confrontation

"Michael, what the hell are you doing here?" Polly Gray asked her kid as she entered my office. Michael looked at his mother and stood up, getting closer to her.

"I was talking to my friend." He looked back at me, winked and walked out of my office. One of my guards escorted him out. Just having these two people here had my heart racing and my fingers trembling.

"Mr. Shelby, are you armed?" I asked. He gave me a confused look.

"Yes I am." He replied.

"I'd like you to hand your gun to Mr. Monroe. Mrs. Gray, if you have any weapons on you, I'd like you to do the same." I poured myself a small glass of whiskey and downed it in seconds.

"Or what?" Polly Gray asked, looking at me smugly.

"Or I'll have you escorted out of my office. The only people I trust to have weapons in this room are James and myself." I told them. Thomas nodded and handed over his two guns to my assistant, a few seconds later Polly did the same thing.

They both sat down across from me. Polly crossed her arms in front of her chest and Thomas had the same cold expression on his face.

"You want funding for an orphanage," I opened a file, looking at what they had put there.

"Yes, Ms. Green. It's an orphanage for young girls all throughout London." Thomas Shelby said, looking me in my eyes. "You have more funding than the Shelby company..." he trailed off.

"If I fund five thousand pounds, my agreement is that all children of any race, religion or status will be able to be there." I looked at him. He nodded. "I also want to be in charge of who cares for the children." He perked up at that.

"We had the Catholic sisters in charge, Ms. Green." Thomas said. I shook my head no.

"No. No priest, no Catholics. I want teachers and farmers. Gypsies if you have no other options." I told him. They both scoffed.

"Ms. Green, if I may ask, what is wrong with our choice?" Polly asked me.

"When I was 15, I ran away from my home and to the church. For three years I dealt with tempers, beatings, and abuse from the Catholic Church. I will not have children under my funds go through the same thing." I explained, my nails digging into my palms slightly.

"You're the most successful businessman in France and England combined. I think you turned out alright." Polly joked a bit, a small smile curling on her face.

"But what did I go through to get here?" I deadpanned, looking her straight in the eyes for a second. She knew she overstepped her boundaries.

I walked over to the safe in the corner and put in the code. Thomas and Polly stood up, looking at the paper I sat in front of them. I threw the ballpoint pen on the papers and set the stack of money on the table.

Thomas signed the papers and I handed him the money. Polly then put the money in a briefcase.

They left without even saying a thanks. What assholes. Excuse my French.

***

I woke up at my desk on a stack of papers. I had passed out. What the actual hell had happened to me. Everything used to be perfect.

"Thought I'd be here all fucking night," I heard the flick of a lighter and a low English accent. I looked up at Thomas Shelby, smoking a cigarette.

"It's 2 in the morning. How did you get in?" I asked as I poured myself a drink to wake up. He shifted in his seat.

"While discussing our business, you couldn't look me or Polly in the eyes and your hands were shaky." He flicked his cigarette ash on the hardwood floor. "I know an alcoholic when I see one, Ms. Green. I didn't expect to find one so young."

"For god sakes, what do you want?" I mumbled as I slouched in my chair and looked at him. He let a small grin on his face and shook his head as he poured himself a glass of my whiskey.

"I did some research on you, Anna." He looked up at me. "Do you mind if I call you Anna?" He asked. I shook my head.

"What did you find out, Tommy?" I asked.

"Your mother and father are the presidents of France." He said, my eyes widened. "You also served in the war as a medic. People call you Doc Holiday because you saved over 150 soldiers on Christmas week. You were head doctor in the French Army." He lit another cigarette.

"You have a sister by the name of Lenora Green. She's... 15 years old now?" Tears stung my eyes. How could he be such an asshole?

"What do you want, Tommy?" I asked, pouring myself a second drink. Maybe I was an alcoholic.

"Your mother and father lived in a village about forty miles north of here. You ran away from them when you were fifteen because your father had suspected you of stealing cigars. Your father in simpler terms was an abusive drunk who took it out on his women." He eyed me as I looked into my scotch glass. His words were going in one ear and out the other.

"You ran to a Catholic Church under the control of John Hughes, right?" Tommy asked me.

"Right." I mumbled.

"There you befriended Henry Johnson, correct?" He assumed again.

"We were going to run away to America together." I took a drink.

"Michael is Henry, Anna." I scoffed at his statement. What a sick joke.

"What do you want?" I repeated this for the third time in this conversation. I wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep.

"John Hughes took you in on one condition, correct?" I made eye contact with him. "He wanted you to have physical relations with him. And you being 15 at the time, well, you wanted protection so you did it."

Tears were blurring my sight as he spoke.

"He raped you and Michael repeatedly, yeah?" He asked. I closed my eyes as I caught my breath. I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"John Hughes has relations with the Russians. You are good friends with the Russians. Now there are jewels with the Shelby name on it in the chamber in their mansion. I want you to get them." He said. I rolled my eyes.

"What do I get?" I finished the glass off.

"You get to see your sister." I was listening to his instructions.