The fall of Changretta

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Cliona stood in the middle of the Shelby Company brewery, the room so silent, she could have swore she heard her un-even heartbeat echo throughout the barrels. Her eyes rose to meet the man that told her she'd be dead by his hand. But here he was, and the terms had changed. Maybe it was worse, for Thomas anyways. She set a pile of papers reluctantly on the table, placing a fountain pen beside it, her gun burning a hole in his strap against her jacket pocket.

"Search em'. Especially the woman. I don't trust that bitch" Cliona could only clench her fists and hold her tongue, fighting the urge to spit in the mans face. Two men patted her down, which was rather uncomfortable if she did say so herself. Their hands rose up her torso, and she slapped the mans hand away when he reached her chest.

"Watch it" Was all she spoke in a demeaning tone, the gun still being held in place. Surprisingly he did so without a lot of hesitation.

"Sign. Every fucking one of 'em. You can sign them on your knees on the floor. Get on your fucking knees and sign!" His voice bounced off the walls making Cliona blink once at the mans abruptness. But all she could do was watch with the other family members as Thomas slowly got down in his knees, his eyes on the man the entire time. This amused the Italian very much, but his face fell when the woman stood forward, walking between Thomas and himself.

"Someone once told me, Mr Changretta, that no matter what situation you are in, Big fucks small

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"Someone once told me, Mr Changretta, that no matter what situation you are in, Big fucks small. So, we knew we had to find someone bigger than you. Now, you may know there are two families in Brooklyn who want to take over your monopoly on the import of liquor into New York. But if they moved against you in New York they'll start a war between the families. And that just wouldn't do. But if you were to die in a vendetta with some bookmaker in Birmingham, his family and a fucking Irish woman they could take over your business without a war. Thomas also contacted a businessman in Chicago. His name is Alphonse Capone. I think you've heard of him?" She questioned her face a blank sheet, devoid of amusement or any strong emotion.

"You've been talking to that fucking man?" Cliona gave a sharp nod.

"See, all the blood relatives you brought with you from New York, they're all dead, we killed them. And the men you've brought with you today they work for money, for the highest bidder. They now have new orders. By order of the Peaky Blinders" Her hand outreached into her velvet coat pulling out the silver pistol, holding up a bullet to him briefly. It had the initials LC etched into it. "You threaten the Shelby's, you threaten my nephew, you threaten me? By law and order, fucking men like you get away with everything. But Mr Changretta, We are the law." Her pistol slammed into the hands of Thomas Shelby, the bullet already rolling into the barrel. His arm raised and fired, before Luca Changretta could have another breath. He didn't deserve it, as he fell to the ground, a hole seeping red upon his forehead. The woman took the gun back from the Shelby placing it back in her coat. "I need a bloody drink, but I can't even have that"

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The day before

The brunette made her way through the crowds, before whispering words into Linda Shelby's ear.

"Arthur's been injured but he's all right, Linda. We need to make them believe that he's dead to everyone but you, me, Tommy and Polly. Arthur Shelby is dead. It's been planned out.We can use his death to win this war" She spoke through the loud commotion of bodies. Before she could say anything more, Linda burst into tears, and Cliona could do nothing but go with it, hugging the woman, giving Thomas a nod over her shoulder.

"Nobody is to leave! My brother is dead. my brother is fucking dead!" The man yelled looking out to the crowds of people that had gone silent from their previous cheers. He then stepped off the ring and into the crowd, meeting hands with Cliona, pulling her along, and out of the complex.

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The Present

The Shelby's sat along a large mahogany table, celebrating in their true nature. At the end of the table sat Arthur Shelby, very much alive. His hand clasped a glass as it rose.

"Before we all go and eat, I'd like to say a few words. The last time we were all here, it ended badly. But now we're in a happier place. That's it. I'd just like to raise a toast. A few words I'd like to say from the heart, and this time you're going to let me finish, Tommy. Now as you all know, Arthur Shelby is dead. Because of that, Tommy's offered me a way out. A new identity. Start a whole new life for myself. And I've thought about it. Made a decision. I ain't fucking going nowhere. Our enemies are gone. Dead, all of 'em. For the first time since me and my two kid brothers Tommy and John enlisted in the Warwickshire Yeomanry, we have peace. So, I think I'd like to make a proposal. All of you, the Shelby Company Limited, insist that Tommy here takes some time off. t's time you took a holiday, Tom. Put your feet up. War is over. No-one wants to kill us. Go plan that wedding. To peace." He rose his glass higher, as did the rest of the table "To pe-" Cliona trailed off, stopping with a frown.

"Hold on. Wedding?" Thomas Shelby gave a nod placing a cigarette between his lips, taking out a lighter, taking his time to light the end, letting out a drag.

"Yeah. Your going to marry me"

"Oh I am, am I?"                                               

"I sincerely hope so" His hand replaced the lighter in his silk pocket, before removing a ring, holding it up. Cliona lifted up her glass locking eyes with Thomas Shelby.

"To peace"

"To peace"

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