BEING A Londoner meant I was exposed to a higher class of living than I was back in Birmingham. Though I did my best to avoid attending anything that would bore me to death, there were some unavoidable situations in which I'd have to withstand the finer things in life.
"You look pretty, Mummy," Gerald commented shyly from the doorway, a small smile on his face.
"When doesn't Mummy look pretty?" John rhetorically asked him before swooping him up in his arms.
"In the morning when I'm late for school," Gerald answered bluntly, making me gasp.
Putting down the necklace I was about to wear, I turned to him with a slack jaw. "G!"
John held back a laugh, patting Gerald's chest. "You can't say that about your Mummy, Dollop."
"Don't call him that," I grumbled, hating the nickname he had coined for our son after Gerald realised how much it made his dad laugh to put a dollop of cream on his nose.
"But Mummy does look pretty now," Gerald defended with a confused frown.
"You're meant to tell me I'm pretty all the time, G," I said, walking over to him and placing a quick peck on his cheek. "Not just when I'm trying to be."
"You're absolutely gorgeous, no matter what time of day it is," John whispered before kissing me sweetly.
"That's cute, but you're still not coming," I said, my smile dropping.
John frowned while Gerald clambered out of his arms and ran out of the room. "Why not, Lex?"
"Because I know what you're like," I answered, walking back over to my mirror and picking up the diamond necklace. "Someone will make one crude comment, or give me one look, and you'll be on a murder spree."
He pouted, following me and wrapping his arms around my waist while our eyes met in the mirror. "I don't want anyone to look at you. Or make comments. Or touch you, at fuckin' all."
I rolled my eyes, "15 years of knowing me and you still don't think I can take care of myself. Plus, Tommy will be there."
"Yeah, and Alfie," John mumbled, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"You don't like Alfie," I stated, to which he didn't respond. "He's helping us out. A lot."
"He stares at you, a lot," He complained. "Sometimes I wish I still had my Peaky cap so I could cut his fuckin' eyes out."
Snorting, I shook my head. "Trust me, if Alfie had any interest in me, he would have made it clear by now."
John let out a dry laugh, "You say that like you've known him years."
My heart skipped a beat, my palms clamming up as that familiar feeling of nausea grew in the pit of my stomach. "Uh, can you help me put this necklace on?"
He happily obliged, not questioning why I changed the subject. Because John was too pure-hearted and too in love with his darling wife to ever think she could lie to him.
•
"I THINK it's best if Tommy don't come in, to be honest," Don Gershwin suggested as we stood outside his car. His cockney accent made him seem trustworthy, as well as his warm smile, which I wasn't expecting to see on a friend of the Mallow twins. "Seeing as it was your brother who blinded his son, Sullivan may not take too kindly to you."
Tommy threw his cigarette to the ground before stepping on it and nodding. "Understandable."
Don led the way while Alfie and I followed. For obvious reasons, we didn't bring Arthur, and Polly forbid Michael from getting any more involved in this side of the business.
I had never been inside a ballet theatre before, and I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but this was the most extravagant building I had ever been in. Curtains of red silk were used in lieu of doors, crystal chandeliers hung low from high ceilings, and the black walls made it feel exclusive and private- though there were hundreds, if not thousands of people dressed to the nines all gliding past.
"Fuck me," Alfie muttered from beside me as we took in the view. "I'm glad I wore my best suit."
Don led us up some wide carpeted stairs before stopping outside a room. "He'll be in there. I think our best chance is sending Alexandra in alone. We don't want to overwhelm him or make him think that you brought a bodyguard."
I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.
"And that's not to say that you need a bodyguard, I'm just saying it will look like that to Sullivan. I know exactly what you're capable of," Don said before rolling his eyes and muttering to Alfie, "She's a touchy one, ain't she?"
"I was going to say," I grumbled through gritted teeth. "Won't he have bodyguards?"
"Most likely," Don answered. "But they'll be harmless. As long as you veer away from making crass jokes about his son or insulting him in any way, you should be fine."
"Should be?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
Don narrowed his eyes before lowering his voice and stepping towards me. "Are you not the girl who butchered her own father to pieces? I wasn't expecting you to be so... careful."
"She's a mother now," Alfie spoke up with a smirk. "She takes ten minutes to cross the road."
I shot him a glare before rolling my eyes, noticing the small smile on Tommy's face.
"I think you'll be better off if you don't mention the liabilities in your life," Don suggested, no doubt referring to my husband and son. "Just be the Alexandra Romero we've all heard about, and do whatever he asks of you."
Having heard enough, I pushed past the men and into the private break area where a few people were standing around, drinking wine from flutes.
I zeroed in on who had to be him; Phil Sullivan. He was wearing a navy blue three-piece suit, had a balding head with spouts of dirty blonde hair, and black leather shoes that reflected the light of the chandelier above him. He had a belly that his hands were using as an arm rest, and was letting out a chortle I had grown to associate with rich bastards like him.
Sullivan was surrounded by a combination of security guards and other rich acquaintances, but I didn't let them make me nervous. Though I now had a lot more to lose, I had to be confident if I wanted him to take me seriously.
I walked over to them, their conversation dying down as they watched me approach them. "Mr Sullivan," I began, offering him a smile. "What a coincidence that our paths have crossed this evening."
"It is?" He asked, giving me a once-over before gesturing for the other men to leave us alone. They obeyed, spreading out in different directions, though the security guards remained within earshot.
"I've been meaning to meet you for a while," I said truthfully, folding my arms across my abdomen. "I have to say, I wasn't expecting to find you so easily."
"Just who are you?" He asked with a slight frown, his eyes curious.
I took in a deep breath before revealing, "My name is Alexandra Shelby."
Recognition and anger flashed across his features, and he looked around the room before glaring at me. "You have some nerve, showing up here."
"Relax, Mr Sullivan, I'm here to extend my apologies," I explained. "My family do not deserve to be target of your rage."
Sullivan let out a scoff, "No? Your bastard brother attacked my son."
"What happened was a tragedy," I said, trying my best to sound sympathetic. "How is Lincoln?"
His jaw clenched, barely visible beneath the thick skin around his chin. "Blind."
I glanced to the ground for a moment, holding back my wince. "Right."
"Why did you come here, Miss Shelby?" He asked, frowning.
"Mrs.," I corrected quietly.
Raising his eyebrows, he nodded, looking me up and down again. "So, you married into the Peaky Blinders. And what are they doing sending you to do their dirty work?"
"This isn't dirty work," I countered. "I'm here to ask you to get Graham Needle to leave my family alone."
Suddenly, Sullivan began to chuckle, quietly at first. It built up to a raucous laughter while he shook his head. "Oh, Mrs. Shelby, I trust even you are not that naïve."
"I don't expect your forgiveness to be given so easily," I insisted, holding back my anger at his amusement. "I understand you forgave Gary Mallow a few years ago. I'm willing to do what he did, tenfold."
His eyes darted around the room cautiously before he grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. "What the fuck do you know about Gary Mallow?"
"I know he, too, was given a gravestone card," I whispered, staring him down. "And I know that I am capable of whatever the fuck it is he did for you."
He let go of my arm, a sly smirk growing on his thin lips. "I've heard many stories of the Peaky Blinders. The rulers of Birmingham." He then leaned forward, his voice lowered to a point where it was barely audible. "You aren't in Birmingham anymore, Shelby. The nights here are darker, and filled with more monsters than there are stars in the sky. The things I'm sure you've seen back home would seem like bedtime stories when you're exposed to the nasty underbelly of London."
Standing my ground, I kept my face straight as I moved closer to him, mere inches between us. "I cut my father into pieces, and his cries only motivated me to go slower."
He didn't reply, simply staring back at me.
"You may be used to blackmailing the elite; those too scared to make a mark on their perfect records," I began, taking a step backwards when I noticed his guards giving me suspicious looks. "But my reputation has been black for a long time, Sullivan. The monsters here don't even come close to the ones I've slain."
He slowly nodded, slipping his hand into his trouser pocket. "Very well. If you're so sure of yourself, I'd be happy to strike a deal with you."
"Great," I replied quietly. "I'm at your service."
Sullivan gave his guards a nod before leading me through to a private section of the room, cut off from everyone else with long black curtains. There was a small sofa on which he gestured for me to sit, which I did.
He stayed on his feet, standing in front of me. "What I ask of you will be no easy feat, Mrs. Shelby. You must be prepared to go the... extra mile."
"I'll get it done," I vowed, looking up at him.
Looking to the ground, he seemed to be mulling something over before he looked back up at me. "Five people."
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.
"I want you to kill five people for me, Mrs. Shelby," Sullivan continued, scanning my face as though to gauge my reaction.
"Kill?" I repeated, making sure I had heard him properly.
"Don't be coy," He whispered, taking a step towards me. "You've killed before. You know how it feels. The rush of power."
I said nothing, his words triggering a darkness in me that I hadn't felt in a long time.
Sullivan's eyes were filled with sadistic delight as a smirk befell his lips. "You and I understand the art of hearing that last breath, Alexandra. There's nothing like killing a man."
•
"YOU TOOK your time," Alfie called out as I walked over to them, wrapping my arms around myself. "Thought you were dead."
"Well?" Tommy asked, leaning against the front of his car. "What does he want?"
"He wants us to kill for him," I answered with a frown. "Five fucking people."
Don nodded slowly, blowing out tobacco clouds. "They won't be easy kills. Phil Sullivan's list of enemies is comprised of elites and high-profile bastards. It's gonna take some planning and precise execution."
"Tommy?" I gave him a pleading look.
He immediately shook his head. "I'm the MP of Birmingham, Alex. I can't risk being caught killing five elites."
"So send your men," Alfie suggested with a shrug.
"I wouldn't send anyone you don't completely trust to be reliable and smart," Don warned. "This isn't just tracking someone down in the park and gunning them down. These people will be heavily protected; most of them are likely aware that Sullivan wants them dead."
"I am not doing this," I stated sternly, my words directed to Tommy. "We'll get Arthur on it. It was his mistake in the first place; this gives him a chance to rectify things."
"No fucking chance," Tommy retorted. "He's lost it, Alex. He's a loose cannon."
"You'll require stealth and common sense; no loose cannons," Don informed us, his words creating a dread in the pit of my stomach.
"Alfie, how many favours do you owe me?" I asked desperately, though I kept myself collected.
He chuckled, "Absolutely fucking not. I'm already putting myself on the line by helping you out, let alone getting my hands dirty."
The three men each looked to me, and I could have screamed. "I haven't spilt blood since my son was born. I am not going back to the person I used to be. I promised John."
"Who said John had to know?" Tommy asked with a raised eyebrow, making me scoff.
"I'm not lying to him about this," I insisted.
"You have no problem lying to him about the coke," Tommy replied coolly. Alfie looked down with a sheepish look on his face, wordlessly telling me that he had let slip about our deal.
"That's different," I mumbled, though I didn't even believe myself. "That's just... business."
"Either way, you're already lying to my brother," Tommy stated. "So what's one more thing?"
I rubbed my face, running out of excuses to avoid the fact that I was the only possible contender. "For fuck's sake," I cursed, my jaw clenching.
"This will be over soon, and everything will go back to normal," Tommy promised, giving me a nod which did little to comfort me. "If anyone can do this... it's you."
His words made me nauseous.
• • •
a/n - hello i am so so sorry for such a late update. but i kinda lost direction for this book and i have just now found some motivation and creativity for it. i have the plot mostly sorted for a god 10 chapters or so, it's just writing them out that gets difficult. but i'm working on planning ahead so i can stick to my goal of weekly chapters ! !
thank you so much for reading and i hope you're enjoying it so far <3