THIRTY FOUR - POWER

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Irina had never experienced the feeling of complete vulnerability and isolation like she did in that moment. Alfie was stood less than six feet away from her, leaning with his palms flat on the kitchen counter with eyes like daggers, slicing straight through her soul without resistance.

Her world went quiet and her body went cold. He had told her exactly what she had wanted to hear, the minute of weakness she'd fumbled had tainted her mind, making her think that his declaration of love would make everything better, only Irina had never felt worse.

Hearing Alfie tell her that he loved her only twisted the knife he'd stabbed in her back harder. It poured salt in her wounds, kicked old bruises and scratched healed scars. They were heavy words, words that Irina had never truly felt the meaning of before, but she didn't realise just how crushing the weight of them would truly be.

He loved her, so he claimed, but what Irina couldn't fathom was how a man that offered her his entire heart could do what he'd done. She had now experienced two men telling her that they loved her, albeit only one of them had ever had the chance to look her in the eyes while doing so. Despite that, it was the other man that Irina believed, not the one stood before her.

"You don't love me," Irina whispered, struggling to pass words through her lips as her lungs felt like they were slowly filling with water, "You can't possibly love me."

Alfie sighed, hanging his head low between his shoulders as he closed his eyes in thought. Irina looked at the way his shirt clung to his arms tightly and how strong the veins running down his hands were, being unable to stop herself from thinking about a time she'd lay in those arms and felt like she had found heaven on earth. Only the thought of another woman feeling the same thing made her wretch.

"I do," he finally said, forcing himself to lift his head and look into her eyes, "I love you, Irina. I'd do anything for you, I'd fucking die for you. You're all I think about from when I wake up to when I go to sleep at night. I can't shake the feeling you've given me, it's eating me alive. I made a mistake, and I can't ever apologise enough."

Irina didn't know what to say, but the coldness in her veins didn't go away as she listened to him speak. It seemed like with every word he said, Irina felt herself drawing further and further into herself, a wall building up around her, brick by brick, word by word. He was trying, Irina could see that, but it was too late.

"You're right."

"What?" Alfie's eyes were glossed over with water as he glanced at her, his heart sinking all over again each time he had to look at what he'd done to her.

"You've ruined me."

Alfie dropped his head into his hands, breathing loudly as he scratched his head in anger, tugging at his hair through his knuckles, his skin flushing red and white in pulses, a low muttering of words beneath his breath.

He was listening to a war rage in his head, a loud thumping making it hard to pluck a single thought out of the millions pulling him in different directions. Alfie knew that he'd hurt Irina, he could see that he'd hurt her. He desperately wanted to help her, knowing that there was nobody on earth that could even come close to loving her back to health the way he could, that would do anything necessary to make sure she could put on her high heels and black sunglasses and walk down Camden high street with everyone looking at her the way she used to, the way she was when Alfie fell in love with her.

It was the look of fear in her eyes that told Alfie the tide had changed. Irina no longer looked at him like she knew him, like she shared a whirlwind of a past with him, like she loved him. Her eyes almost looked through him, like she was seeing somebody else entirely. It was then that he realised that the Alfie and Irina that had fallen in love, weren't the same couple that were stood together in the room in that moment.

"Irina, I'm so sorry," he wearily approached her, gently reaching out with a shaking arm to clasp her hand inside his own, feeling just how cold her skin felt against him.

She refused to look at him, instead looking down at their hands, expecting to feel the rush of euphoria she had before, only to feel nothing. She was broken, and she had finally realised just how far away from herself she had fallen.

"I didn't think the devil walked among us until I met you," Irina said, pulling her dark eyes up across his chest to meet his, giving him a hardened stare that she knew was shattering his soul, "I want you to leave."

Yanking away her hand from his grasp, Irina rushed out of the kitchen and headed down the hallway towards the staircase, feeling her heart pounding as Alfie followed closely at her heels.

"Irina, please." He called out, stopping at the foot of the stairs.

"If you're not gone by the time I come back downstairs, I'll call-"

"Who?" Alfie interrupted, glaring angrily as she paused halfway up the stairs to turn back to him, "Who the fuck would you call, Irina? You have nobody without me. I'm all you have, you need me, fuckin' look at you."

Irina clenched her jaw, feeling her nails scratch against the metal bannister by the staircase, her blood finally running scaldingly hot, but not for the reason she had expected.

"I'd rather have nobody than have you, get out."

Not waiting to listen to anything more he had to say, Irina stormed up the stairs and into her bedroom, throwing herself down amongst her pillows, holding her breath as she waited to her the slam of the front door that eventually came.

The house was still, finally. It took a while for Irina to calm herself down, her hands shaking as she took deep breaths, looking up towards the ceiling and wiping away any tears from her soft skin, feeling the hardness of her bones beneath her fingertips.

There was a time when Irina had never shed a single tear over a man, and never thought she would. Painfully, her world had changed, now spilling more hurt and broken love from her eyes for three different men, something she never dreamt she would ever do.

Reflecting in the warmth of the sun breaking through the window, Irina realised how much easier her life had been before Thomas Shelby had walked into her office, even before Luca had walked into her office. Men were good for plenty of things, Irina knew that, but being in love with was simply not one of them.

She caught sight of herself in the vanity mirror across the room, feeling sickly repulsed at what she saw looking back at her. It had gotten worse slowly, but Irina felt unrecognisable to herself in that moment, deciding then that she would never let another man dictate her feelings for as long as she lived. Being in control was the only thing that had ever brought Irina unrivalled peace and happiness, security in her life. Vowing to her broken reflection, Irina made a promise to herself that she would fix herself, deciding that no man was worth losing the woman she was before over.

Composed and feeling, for a small moment, at peace, Irina smiled for the first time in as long as she could remember. She felt her lips curve and her cheeks rise, a light, beautiful laughter escaping from her chest as she began to breathe properly again. Realising she could laugh and smile if she so wanted to felt empowering, a secure notion to remind her that all she needed to do was simply take charge once again.

And so, basked in the morning sunlight, Irina began to feel revitalised. She was strong, knowing from that moment on, everything was going to be alright, because it had been before, and so it could be again. And that time around, she wasn't going to let anyone knock her off track.

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