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opalnoble · 1 year ago

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. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬

{ phoebe dynevor, thirty-one, female, she/her } we are so glad to see you safe, CROWN PRINCESS AURORA of FRANCE ! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are kind and brave enough to handle it. just don’t let your impulses bring you down ! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out that you plan to run away to find the man you love and live a normal life.

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬

name: aurora aurélie orléans. title: crown princess of france. nicknames: rora. age: thirty-one. birth: march twentieth. sexuality: heterosexual. pronouns: she/her. marital status: secretly wedded to high king alexander stuart of scotland

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬

eye color: blue. hair color: strawberry blonde. height: five'three". weight: one hundred and thirty pounds.

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞

father: the king of france. mother: the queen of france. siblings: three younger sisters; genevieve, estelle & perle. cousins: the bonapartes in spain; maceon, martina ( deceased ) & elliot.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

spoken tongues: french, english, spanish. positives: golden-hearted, kind, courteous, compassionate. negatives: impulsive, stubborn, impatient, rebellious. moral compass: chaotic good

𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

colors: pink, blue, gold, white. season: spring. weather: sunny days. time of day: dawn. element: earth. flower: rose. gemstone: opal. animal: swan

𝐢.

aurora was born on the warmest spring day in france, in the palace of versailles. her birth was widely celebrated in france for she was the first born to the king and queen and now considered heir to the throne. she grew up a happy, content child. mild mannered, though stubborn. aurora wanted for nothing, for she had everything. she took great pride as she got older, in learning the politics and court policies. aurora was determined to be a good ruler someday. alongside her studies, aurora cared deeply for her younger siblings. when she was SIX, her sister genevieve was born and everyone in versailles would tell you, the two have been inseparable since. aurora is overprotective of her siblings to a fault, but it is only because she cares so much. however, at the age of SIXTEEN, on one of her typical secret outings into the city, aurora met a boy on the streets of paris and her views on her position were forever changed. he was charming, handsome and showed aurora something she had not experienced and has not since that fateful week — what it was like to be normal. this boy took aurora on a week adventure in paris, showing her sights she'd never seen as a royal, eating foods she'd never seen grace her golden plate in versailles and above all — what it was like to be treated like everyone else. aurora found herself in love with the idea of being just another person. to not have the attention and scrutiny of everyone in the room. to enjoy a pastry without manners or dance like no one was watching. after that week spent with him, she was finally found by the palace guards and forced back home where her parents thrusted her into her studies to prepare her as queen, but all the while, aurora could not forget her mystery boy and to this day she dreams of him. the princess suddenly realized that being queen was not what she wanted. suddenly, the crown felt heavy. she craved that normal life she had only a mere taste of, and most importantly — she craved the love of that boy she left on the streets of paris. at the age of NINETEEN, aurora's cousins in spain were overthrown and cast out of their monarchy. she mourned the loss of her eldest cousin, who had been like an older brother to her. the pressure was on her shoulders more then ever by her parents to be france's perfect heir, france's model of it's monarchy. all the while, the weight of the crown grew heavier and heavier — and her ache for that week in paris never dulled. how cruel the world was, she thought, to give her love and then to take it away. TWO YEARS later, her eldest cousin showed up in the courtyard of versailles and begged aurora for her help in securing safety. of course, aurora could not say no but nor could she tell another soul that her cousin — the crown prince of spain — was still alive and well. she swore to him to keep the secret and to fund his needs, but that only added more weight to the poor princess's heart. now, she feared for their safety. for her cousin's, for her siblings and for herself, should anyone of ill intentions discovered he lived and she assisted him. once the monarchy became constitutional, aurora felt a bit of relief for perhaps this would be her way out. perhaps the monarchy was on it's way out all together and aurora could be free. then, just maybe, she could find that boy again and finally live the life she's always wanted — one where her shoulders felt weightless.

𝐢𝐢.

aurora laid low for most of their time in india, adjusting to new freedoms and testing the boundaries of them. she did not want to be associated with the havoc france's arrival caused in lal qila. after the reckoning, the year spent back home in france was excruciating, she had gotten a taste of freedom and squandered it by being too cautious. when they arrived in ethiopia, aurora chose to act differently. she explored, socialized and allowed herself to enjoy her time outside the gates of versailles. it was towards the end of their time there, when she discovered her mystery man from paris was the high king of scotland — and due to her own lack of impulse control, she married him in just three days, before they set sail for their next destination. aurora now partially has what she wanted, the man who haunted her dreams for fourteen years — but a normal life is now nowhere in the cards. now she is wed to her country's political enemy, and her secret has shifted from a harmless dream of a lovesick princess, to one that leaves her future in complete uncertainty as it could unite two countries, or send them to war.

#theopulent.intro

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oboetemasuka · 2 years ago

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Hmm...

Last Song: The Purge March (MILGRAM). Wait, was it not? *clicks Purge March* Now it is. (It was actually "All-Knowing and All-Agony" because I was listening to the songs in reverse order)

Favorite Color: Blue or pink, depending on the mood.

Last Movie/TV Series: Gilmore Girls. My mom heard it's great for mother/daughter bonding. (I wish I could've said SpyXFamily. Sibling come home...)

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet. I have negative spice tolerance.

Relationship Status: Single. Never dated, and not for lack of trying.

Last thing I googled: Child height projection. I wanted to figure out how tall Amane would grow up to be. (I'm surprised I didn't search for anything at work today. Usually something about perl drives me up the wall)

Current obsession: MILGRAM. Specifically Amane Momose.

Tag nine people: Uh... Let's see... @04dissection, @rainbowghostcat, @purgemarchlockdown, @eslover, @candckirby, @qrevo, oops so sorry for poking you all time to run

Nine people I'd like to get to know better

Tagged by @meghawhopp <33

Last song: Down by the River by Borislav Slavov from the Baldur’s Gate 3 Soundtrack (or more specifically the cover of Down by the River by Nerissa Ravencroft)

Favorite color: Blue and purple!

Last movie/TV show: Seinfeld, I’m currently on season four!

Sweet/spicy/savory?: I have a huge sweet tooth, so sweet things

Relationship status: Single

Last thing I googled: I searched up the show “Arthur” because I was trying to find that one meme where Buster was like “You really think someone would do that, just go on the internet and spread lies?”

Current obsession: Fragaria memories and tears of themis mostly^^

Tag Nine People: @kyaruun @xinieeee @deadmansbistro @florapot @hunita812 @scuffle-with-spirals @rexonalapis @maxellera @manicpixiedoomedgirl

#tag game

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cheesewelsom · 3 years ago

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My other percy jackson AU where the siblings have children.. all of them

Terra - daughter of demeter talking to a flat earther and someone who believes the moon is a disk.

Terra : okay, so you believe the moon is a disk? Like those CDs right?

Perl, who believes in said topic because he was brought up by an idiot : yes..

Terra : okay, good, good. So the first man to land on the moon we saw the moon.. be round right?

Perl :... photoshop.

Terra : hear me out. if the moon was a disk, how the fuck did the Astronaut land the rocket? More or less be standing, he must be walking on a fucking tight rope.

Terra : photoshop wasn't created then, dumbass. How can the moon be round and have space for a rocker if it's a thin disk??

Perl : because it's a sphere

Terra : THERE IT IS! THE RIGHT ANSWER, THE RIGHT ANSWER!! fucking yeah! He answered a circle!

Perl : a sphere isn't a circle.

Terra :...

Terra : at what lengths would it give you to just shut up and think, what do you think is a sphere!?

Perl : those circle thingies with long bodies.

Terra :.. those are CYLINDERS!!! CYLINDERS CREATED BY ARCHIMEDES!! HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW YOUR OWN GEOGRAPHY!? YOUR HISTORICAL GEOGRAPHY!?

terra currently screaming her guts out and the treat watching.

A blond boy with blue eyes recording the whole thing : this is your fault for recording me you mother fucker.

A boy with red hair and purple eyes : isn't that a bit too much

The son of hades : it's not enough.

The son of Posidon : it's never enough is it?

The blond son of hades : never.

The red haired son of Posidon, passes the camera stand : here you go.

Blond boy, son of hades : she's going to regret Everything.

Son of Posidon, whispering :.. but she loves drama?

#is the moon a disk talk #no it is not #percy jackson #percy jackson au

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lu-undy · 5 years ago

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Chapter 35 - SBT

Here it is!

"Oh, hey there, M, wasn't it?"

Mundy nodded at the waitress.

"Yeah."

As soon as he had entered the diner, she had recognised him and welcomed him.

"You've missed L, he was there for lunch with Perle, but he's gone now."

"Ah, I see, but I wasn't lookin' for him. And I don't want to bother him when he's with Pearl. Just wanted some coffee, is all."

"Sure, take a seat."

Mundy went to the table where him and L had some pancakes the other day, L's usual table.

"Would you like anything else with your coffee?"

"Uh… Guess a croissant will do."

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute!"

"Thanks, mate."

And in a minute indeed Victoria was back with not one, but two cups of coffee.

"D'you mind if I take a break with you?" She asked.

"Nah, go ahead." Mundy gestured for her to take a seat and she did, opposite him. "So uh…" He resumed but hesitated. "He came here with Pearl?"

"Yeah, he takes her for lunch here."

"Ah, right… So, you've seen her?"

"Yeah, I did, a few times already. Quite the character she has, eh." Victoria answered.

"What d'you mean?"

"She's always on the defensive with people. The only one she tolerates and is in fact fond of, is L."

"Really?"

"Yeah… She can even be aggressive about it."

Mundy raised an eyebrow.

"But eh," Victoria went on. "I guess it will pass when she grows older."

"She's younger than him?"

"Oh yeah, infinitely younger!" Victoria answered and Mundy blushed.

"Right…" He continued sipping on his coffee.

"How long have you known L for?" Victoria asked.

"Uh… Quite a bit I guess, but not too long, can't really remember."

"Oh, so you didn't know him before he came to Australia?"

"Nah." Mundy answered.

"And you work together?" Victoria asked.

"Y-yeah, well, we have to." Mundy answered.

"You don't want it?"

Mundy raised his eyes to Victoria, behind his yellow tinted glasses, and looked away. He chose not to answer. Victoria let the silence weigh, thinking that he would find it awkward and end up answering, but no. Mundy just wouldn't say anything.

"He didn't want it." She said and he jerked his head up to look her in the eyes.

"Did he say that?" Mundy asked.

"Yep." Victoria sipped on her coffee. "Said both of you and especially him didn't want to work together."

Mundy lowered his head.

"Guess he's right…"

"But then, I think that he's changed his mind."

When the words hit Mundy's head, he raised his head again and faced Victoria.

"He never said it like that but…" She bobbed her head left and right. "You can kind of see it."

"See what?" He asked.

"You two get along well." She answered and he blushed.

"Yeah, well, we have to work together so…"

"So that doesn't necessarily imply that you should get along." She said. "Look here at the diner, I'm stuck with some folks I don't really get along with sometimes, but eh, bills aren't going to pay themselves."

"Hm. S'ppose so. And uh… Where did you see that we got along? We spend most of our time arguing!" Mundy said.

"You shared pancakes." Victoria answered.

"Yeah, and?"

"I serve that man his lunch almost everyday of the week. Never have I seen him share a dessert with anyone."

"Oh, c'mon, he must do it with Pearl from time to time, doesn't he?"

Victoria shook his head.

"Nope, he doesn't. And even before Pearl's time, he never shared pancakes with me or anyone else."

Mundy held on to that information dearly. His mind ran wild and free, replaying the movie of that afternoon, sharing the pancakes with the Frenchman… Hm, there was something comforting about it.

"Hey, Sir!"

The child's voice pulled Mundy out of his daydream. The little boy had entered the diner and ran to Mundy's table.

"You're M, Sir?"

"Yeah."

Victoria watched the exchange.

"Can you come, please? We got sent to get you somewhere."

"We?" Victoria asked, looking around but seeing only one child.

"Yeah, sure." Mundy said, he looked at Victoria. "You don't mind? Work's calling."

"Uh… Sure?" She answered, confused that work was coming in the form of a little kid.

Mundy paid what he owed and exited the diner, following the child.

"Where do I need to go?" He asked.

"Just follow me." The boy answered.

"Oh, so it's not far." He said.

"Nah, just around the corner… Here."

They stepped in an alley and the rest of the group of little boys was there.

"So, what d'you have for me, boys?" Mundy asked.

"This box. It comes from Richard."

The tallest of the children came forward with a large, yet relatively thin box.

"Oh… Ok… Well, thanks a lot."

"See ya!"

The kids ran away from the alley and Mundy went back to the van. He drove away such that Victoria wouldn't see anything and parked again. He hopped at the back of his van and sat down on the old, worn out couch, putting the box on his lap. It was made of glossy white paper and wrapped with a dark blue satin knot.

"Yep, only bloke posh enough to send me something like that is Richard or L… No that L’s gonna send me anythin’..."

Mundy pulled on the knot and the satin ribbon came loose. He opened the lid and frowned.

"What the hell…?"

-- Queen Victoria --

"Good evening, Sir. The usual?"

"Yes, please."

"Including the coffee?"

"Yeah, please."

"Certainly."

The waiter disappeared and Mundy looked around. There were more and more people around him, the dining area was filling up and the chatter around him floated in the air. It wasn't too loud, thank God, and was just enough to tell him that indeed, he wasn't the only one to make an effort and wear a suit on Saturday.

And what a suit…?

He had never worn anything like it before. It didn't feel tight, neither did Mundy feel strangled by it, or uncomfortably restrained. No, it had been easy to put on, soft against his skin and when he had seen himself on the reflection of the Queen Victoria's windows, as he entered, he didn't recognise himself. That was what that box sent by Richard contained.

The suit was beige, with a white shirt and brown bowtie. The vest and trousers were perfectly cut for him. Well, they were custom-made…!

Something he didn't understand though, was why Richard would send him an extra suit? He was expecting the one for Duchemin's ball, but not this. Hm.

His dessert and coffee landed in front of him.

"Ah, thanks."

He started digging in, although his mind was very much still on the suit.

"Ladies and gentlemen…!"

Mundy stopped eating sharp and raised his head. He knew the show would really start now.

"The one and only, the great Lulu!"

People applauded in the audience and the volume was louder than for the previous show.

"Ah…" Mundy sighed in delight and relief when Lulu appeared, through the red curtains and walked to the microphone. He was a sight to behold, that man, in his pastel blue suit and beige bowtie. He looked like an ang-

"No, bloody hell…" Mundy shook his head.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lulu started. "Thank you again for the letters, I appreciate the kind words and would like to reiterate my thanks."

A wave of applause rolled in the audience.

"Secondly, I took the liberty of changing tonight's song."

Mundy leaned back. He didn't care what the man sang, he knew that whatever it would be, it would get to him. Lulu went to the piano and started playing at the same time as the violins.

And when he started singing, Mundy got flushed and blushed, the singer was closing his eyes, the movement of his eyebrows betrayed what burnt inside him, the meaning of the lyrics that Mundy barely got. And the hunter stared at the artist, at his sensitivity, how openly he was sharing what he had inside without being judged or without fear of people looking at him differently for whatever he was saying.

That was a luxury that Mundy couldn't afford.

He squinted, all slouched on his seat, resting his jaw on his palm with his elbow on the table. The lights in the dining area were low but the spotlight on Lulu shone bright, even his hair was shining, a bit like silk.

Gosh…

Lulu's lips were a hairwidth away from the microphone and Mundy sighed on his seat. He was jealous of that silver steel, cold microphone… Oh he wished. He wished he could be the one those words, whatever their meaning, were sung to. He wished he could have someone he could hold against him now, he wished he could be held, he wished he could find again what it meant to live and not survive, he wished…

He wished killing Duchemin didn't mean to be tracked and his days counted down as a certain and imminent death would take him away. He wished he could stay alive after all this, just… At least to hear Lulu again, but this time, without feeling like those concerts, those moments of peace were more and more rare as his own fingers were closing on Duchemin's throat.

Nah, Mundy as always could but wish. He had spent his life doing that. Wishing. Wishing to get out of school, wishing for his parents to give him a sibling, wishing to get a bit of money to help them out, wishing he could live like a proper adult, far from them, but knowing that it was tearing him apart, wishing his father could make the effort and understand him, wishing that he could have been there to help them, to save them. And now, wishing he could over-live, live beyond his final stop.

And why?

For those silver eyes, hidden behind a veiled curtain of long, black eyelashes, for that slim, hooked nose, in the middle of masculine cheeks, the cheekbones jutting just slightly, just what they should, a well defined jaw, a smooth jawline. And then there were two thin lips, the most delicate lips in the world, and no doubt the softest; lips from which the sounds of an exquisite agony came out, the delicious pain and luxury of thinking about one's own feelings, as if one didn't have any other problems in the world but the waves and storms in his own insides...

Mundy's tired eyes blinked slowly and his eyelids fell halfway through his irises. The waves inside him were rolling and softly crashing on the shore. His insides were warm, the flickering flame of Lulu's voice was so powerful.

"Je suis un homo,

[I am a man-oh/homo]

Comme ils disent."

[As they say.]

Gosh. Mundy straightened his back in a flash, splaying his hands flat on the table. He might have understood that sentence. Oh my God, he just might! Ha, listening to that Solitude song on loop in the van made him pick up a few words and expressions.

But how on Earth was Lulu able to sing that? Where did he get that courage, that foolishness, that madness from? If Mundy had understood well, he had just admitted to… liking men. Not only that, Mundy already knew of that, nah, he had sung that in a room that could hardly be more full of people.

Mundy looked left and right. And what kind of people? Only the respectable, the custom-made suits, the dresses with matching hats, the expensive make-up and even more wealthy style of life…

And yet, Lulu had just sang it. He said it powerfully, yelled it in the room for everyone to hear loud and clear. No, no, no, the more Mundy thought it, the more certain he became. Yes! Yes, he had just said that! Mundy's French from his days at school were very poor rudiments now, but he remembered it. Je suis means I am. Je suis un homo then surely meant… It meant…

Mundy looked again left and right, his head twisting and turning. People's faces were still watching the singer and the performance as if nothing had just happened. Was he the only one to have understood that? Was he the only one who had cared about the lyrics and actually tried to understand? Why was no one offended? Why was no one caring? Why was no one making a scandal right there and then, and leaving the place slamming the door?

Mundy's eyes came back to Lulu.

"Bloody hell… He really meant…"

The singer's tears were visible. He had tried to swallow them back and keep a bit of dignity, but no. The truth he was singing split him in halves, the two halves of a tortured soul. Each half had prepared one single tear, and they now raced down his cheeks, as he screwed his eyes shut, as if that would make him disappear off of everyone's sight.

The song ended and people applauded loudly. Mundy didn't. He was paralysed on his seat, awestruck. Lulu opened his eyes and looked through the crowd. Good God, his eyes were a shade of blue that was so light under the spotlight…

"Bugger."

It seemed to Mundy that Lulu was staring in his direction. The Frenchman's eyebrow twitched, his lips parted as if he had wanted to say something in the microphone. Mundy was hanging off of his very lips, waiting for him to tell him. What was it, Lulu? J-just say it…!

The singer lowered his head, his cinder front lock of hair falling between his eyes, and he stood up, leaving the stage with a hand on his face. He didn't even thank his audience.

The lights got back on in the dining area and Mundy fell back on his chair. He exhaled in an unusually long sigh. Bloody hell, he had been holding his breath all along and didn't realise it.

"Gosh…"

It took him long minutes to get a normal and steady breath back. Mundy's eyes fell on his plate. He hadn't finished his dessert, so he got back to the chocolate cake. But he didn't feel its taste. His mind was racing. Why did Lulu change the song of tonight's show to sing that one? Why did he insist on that one? Why did he cry? Was it just something he did all the time when he sang? Mundy remembered that he had shed a tear singing about Solitude. Was it all for show? What did it all mean?

"Wait."

Mundy raised his head off his piece of cake and frowned. Why the hell did he care? Why did he feel like he should care about that man's feelings and whatever the hell was going through him? Mundy hated people and the less time he spent with them, the better. People were complicated, people lied, people were all over the place!

He finished his cake and drank his coffee but felt neither the sweetness of the first, or the bitterness of the second. He wiped his mouth on the napkin and wiped his hands. Wait, what? His hands?

Mundy looked at his hands and rubbed them together. They were sweaty…? That's new.

"Alright, alright… I'll do it."

He stood up and headed straight for where he knew Lulu would be. He went through the backstage area without being stopped by anyone. He slithered through straight to the door with the name of the man he wanted to have a chat with. He raised his hand and turned his knuckle to the door. Nothing. He couldn't knock.

Take a deep breath.

Mundy shook his head. He heard L's voice in his head. And in his great anxiety, it soothed him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and on his shut eyelids, he saw the masked man he shared pancakes with.

His fingers worked faster than his head and he knocked at the door. He heard nothing for a few seconds that felt much longer.

"Who is it?"

"Uh… I don't know if you remember me… I'm uh, I'm M."

The door opened in a flash. Lulu was livid.

"Uh, a-are you alright? You look pale." Mundy said.

The Frenchman stayed frozen for a minute or so.

"Uh, can we come in maybe?"

Lulu took a deep breath, and let his guest in. He closed the door after him.

"What brings you back here?" Lulu gulped down some water and Mundy noticed the shirt whose first button was open and the absence of bowtie.

"I uh… I wanted to ask something."

"When do you not?"

Mundy lowered his head.

"I uh… Sorry, look, you don't have to listen to me ramblin', I can just go away." He answered.

"Non. Tell me what you wish to know." Lulu motioned him to sit down on his sofa.

"What you sang today," Mundy took a seat. "Did you just say that-"

"Ah, so you understood?" Lulu interrupted and asked as he sat down. His eyes were everywhere but on the Aussie's face.

"I-I think I did. But how could you-?"

"What is this suit…?" Lulu's gloved hand hovered to Mundy's jacket, on his chest.

"Oh, that? To be honest, I never asked for it but uh… I just got it."

"It suits you."

"Really?"

"Oh absolutely, please stand up for a second."

Mundy did so, not questioning anything.

"Yeah?"

"Mon Dieu…" Lulu covered his face with his hands. He was breathing heavily and lowered his head.

"A-are you alright? You seem a bit sick or something?" Mundy said, sitting back down.

"Oui, non, it's fine. This evening and the past few days were tiring. A lot of work has decided to suddenly weigh on my shoulders."

"Oh, sorry to hear that." Mundy answered.

"Well, it's not your fault, not entirely."

"Not entirely?"

"Well, I did have to prepare this show. Who do you think I do all this for?" Lulu motioned his hands around his face, his suit and everything around him.

"Ah, yeah, for folks who come to hear you, eh."

"Oui and non."

Silence fell and Mundy didn't ask the singer to explain himself.

"Can I say something else?" Mundy asked.

"May I say something else? Your grammar, unlike your style tonight, leaves a great deal to be desired." Lulu said, removing his hands from his face. He was smiling softly.

Mundy grinned back.

"Well… I'm bad with words, sorry."

"Go ahead, ask me."

"It's not really a question. I wanted to say thanks." Mundy said.

"What for?"

"For giving your tickets to the party to L."

"Ah." Lulu leaned back on his sofa. "You are welcome. So he is taking you?"

"Yeah, well," Mundy blushed. "It's for work."

"Still," Lulu answered. "I would have given actual money to see him ask you."

Mundy cleared his throat to make the embarrassment pass.

"Anyway, it is a coincidence that we know the same man."

"Yeah. A bit wild, eh?"

Lulu chuckled.

"Indeed. He talked to me about you."

"Whatever he said to you," Mundy said. "Chances are it's all wrong."

"Why?" Lulu asked.

"We uh… We came into contact a bit by chance, for business really."

"Don't you get along?" Lulu asked.

"I don't know. I think we're uh, we're doing what we need to."

"That is not his version." Lulu added.

"Yeah, well, no surprise. The bloke's arrogant and so posh."

Lulu chuckled again.

"You misunderstood me. He feels that you get along well."

"We bicker and fight all the time!" Mundy said and Lulu shrugged.

"It suits him, the way you two work." The singer said. "What about you?"

Mundy looked away and frowned.

"Hm."

"You do not wish to share?" Lulu asked.

"Don't know."

"Or maybe you do wish to share too much."

Mundy pulled the hat deeper down on his head to hide his blush.

"Yeah, well… He's uh… He's ok. We make it work." He finally said.

"Let me tell you that it is a first for him since, hm, two, three decades maybe."

"What d'you mean?"

"He always has worked solo. He hates having to rely on others because others have failed him a lot. Non, he likes to have control."

"What is his job anyway…?" Mundy asked.

"If he told you, he would have to kill you." Lulu gave him one of those mysterious smiles that punched Mundy in his guts.

"Gosh, you really sound like one another." Mundy shook his head.

"You mean the accent?"

"Not only the accent, also the way you both talk. It's the same."

"We also look alike quite a bit." Lulu added.

"Yeah, you have the same eyes and very similar overall face shape. You're about as tall as each other. L might be a bit taller."

"Non, that is his ego." Lulu smirked mockingly.

Both chuckled.

"He said you were the arrogant one." Mundy said.

"Of course he would. But non, don't believe what that man says, he is definitely more disdainful than me."

"Pfff…"

They took a second to laugh it off.

"He likes your company." The French accent sung and Mundy's ears pricked up. His head spun to Lulu in a flash.

"You have your way with people, M." Lulu continued. "You say you are bad with words but it is with your words on the letter that we met. Your words did intrigue me. And straight away, we shared some quite intimate things about each other. Non, you might be bad with words but you have some great emotional intelligence." Lulu said.

"Hm." Mundy looked away.

"And it even got to a man as cold as L. Quite the feat, really."

Mundy looked at Lulu again.

"I haven't seen that man like someone's company for… Last time it happened, he was a completely different man."Mundy and Lulu's eyes locked.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 6 years ago

Text

Burned Part 15

Summary: Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 15: Serious discussions are had.

Alfie had some experience with caring for children. He helped his mother as best he could with his younger brother. But he was a bad influence on Adam and it showed early on. His mother urged her youngest to pursue a more respectable life so she didn't have two sons stuck in a cycle of crime. Perle encouraged Adam to focus on education and was extremely proud when he joined the military. Alfie didn’t do anything to pressure his brother into the life he led. If anything, he agreed with his mother and steered Adam away from a life of crime. The last thing he wanted was to have his baby brother’s blood on his hands. His mother would never forgive him.

Adam Solomons was a family man. He loved his wife and son. He also loved his country and proudly marched off to war. His body was never recovered from Gallipoli. Alfie promised to look after Rose but she was distrustful of the gangster who was making his way through the ranks of the underworld. When he returned from the war, he had no family left aside from his nephew and sister-in-law. Rose, overwhelmed with grief and her reckless seventeen-year-old, took off. Goliath was dropped off on Alfie without any notice.

He didn’t raise the boy though and couldn't teach him anything of much use. He was already too set in his ways.

Alfie had been around Ollie’s children before. They all pounced on him the second he walked through the door screeching about lord knows what. They called him Uncle Fie and the oldest boy said he wanted to be a boxer, always trying to get Alfie to fight him. Aside from a tousle of the hair and the occasional piggyback ride, he was uneasy around them. Children were so fragile and vulnerable. He was accustomed to men who could survive a severe beating and get right back to it. Ollie’s wife would smack him if Alfie so much as uttered one swear around the kids. But Alfie saw the pride on his assistant’s face when his children were around. Ollie lived for them and he spoke so fondly about them. It made him wonder what it was like to be a father, lighting up at every mention of his pride and joy. To boast about their achievements and how they made him smile. To see Louise pregnant and thrilled to be a mother. It was tempting.

Inglewood needed work before they could have any function, especially their wedding. But Louise was thrilled to take on the project. She talked endlessly about the memories she had in each room. How she bruised her knee sliding down the banister, the first pony her father bought her, the stories her mother would tell her at night, and the chocolate cake made for her birthday each year. She wanted to bring those memories back to life as best she could by reviving Inglewood. Improvements and cleaning were left to staff that Alfie hired after a strict vetting process. But Louise wanted to be involved because she felt protective over her home.

Alfie had never seen her so interested in anything. She paid attention to the restoration process and even began gardening once the overgrown yard was cleared. He could fondly remember one of the early days they were there. Louise had gone out into the warm sunshine, clad in pants and one of his old shirts. She wasn’t afraid to get dirty in the soil and eagerly showed Alfie what she’d planted by the end of the day.

She was happy and that made him as happy as could be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One week, Alfie returned back to Inglewood from Camden Town. Louise had stayed, working from the office that had just been redone and furnished along with a portrait of her father proudly hanging by his original desk.

Alfie stepped out of the car and noticed a few kids bicycling down the driveway. There were three of them, a boy around fourteen, a girl about nine, and another boy that couldn’t be more than seven. They were dressed well, albeit most likely their play clothes, and he could guess they were from around the area.

When they saw Alfie, they screeched to a halt.

“Sorry, sir.” The oldest apologized. “This home’s usually empty so we ride up the drive and back.” He explained. The boy was the complete opposite of how Alfie was at the same age. Clean-cut, well mannered, and cautious.

“S’alright.” Alfie didn’t see the harm with the kids riding their bikes up the way.

“Are you moving in here?” The girl asked. Her blonde hair in a short bob with a silver clip parting her bangs to the side. “We live down that way.” She pointed past the front lawn of Inglewood where a foot-high stonewall divided the land.

“Erm, yes, just doing a few renovations.” He nodded and felt out of his comfort zone. He had enough sense not to act the part of the big scary gangster boss in front of children. So that just left him as plain old Alfie.

As if hearing his silent pleas for help, Louise stepped outside. “Alfie?” She had heard the car pull up and expected him to rush inside to embrace her. “Oh, hello.” She smiled when she saw the children.

“Do you have any kids our age?” The youngest boy asked hopefully. “I’m seven ‘n a half.” He beamed proudly.

“I’m afraid we don’t have any children, darling. We’ve only just got married.” It was a lie simply to throw a veil over the situation. Despite the distance between neighbors, word traveled fast in upscale country settings. None of the fashionable ladies of the manors would want to hear that Louise and Alfie weren’t married but still living together. It was the 1920’s but some people were still stuck in the past.

The little boy pouted. “That’s okay.” Even though he was disappointed, he managed to keep the politeness instilled in them by their nanny.

The eldest leaned forward, resting his forearms on the handlebars of his bike. “Mum will want to have you ‘round for tea.” He told Louise.

“That would be lovely. Alfie and I will come and visit once we’re all settled.”

Alfie furrowed his brow. Afternoon tea in Surrey was not on his to-do list. He cleared his throat and nodded. Whatever Louise wanted and whatever would make her happiest. “Yeah, we’ll pop on by soon. And don’t worry ‘bout us, you can ride your bikes wherever. We don’t mind, yeah?” He looked to Louise who was smiling.

“Of course not.” She agreed.

“Thank you!” The littlest shouted a bit louder than necessary and rode off. His sister followed, the wheels kicking up bits of gravel as they went.

The other boy lingered, glancing at Alfie for a moment. “Well, thank you. Have a good day.” He nodded and went to catch up to his siblings.

“So sweet,” Louise said softly and linked arms with Alfie to walk inside.

“Yeah, proper posh kids, aren’t they? You like that when you were that age?” He wondered.

“Well…I suppose.” She shrugged and led him into the office. “Wasn’t much else to do around here besides spending time outside and with friends.”

He sat down on one of the couches near the unlit fireplace. Louise happily sat beside him, tucking her feet under her. “Were a lot of things to do in Camden growing up.” He chuckled. “Bad things, yeah, but things all the same. Was probably robbing people at his age.”

Louise wrapped an arm around his shoulders and snuggled close to his side. “I think we might have gotten along. I got bored easily here.”

“And you would be the beautiful posh girl that I would do anything to win over.” He nearly laughed at how sappy he was being.

She watched the lines around his eyes wrinkle in happiness. Her fingers grazed over the nape of his neck, dancing along the edge of his hairline. “You wouldn’t have to try very hard.”

He chuckled and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Well, m’fraid I won’t be a very good socialite.” It meant to come off as humorous but he couldn’t ignore the passing look the neighbor’s son had given him. Alfie knew he didn’t fit into that society and part of him was perfectly okay with that. But the other part was guilty about not giving Louise everything she wanted.

“Alfie.” She sighed and turned his cheek so he was looking at her. “I don’t want you to change just because we have this home now. Where we are or who we’re around doesn’t matter. I just want you to always be my Alfie. And I never wanted to be a socialite and I sure as hell don’t want to be one now.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “All I want is to have a life with you.”

“Lou…” He rested a hand over hers. His blue eyes shining with adoration and a bit of relief. “I don’t want you to ever change either.” He agreed softly.

She smiled and touched her forehead to his. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He closed his eyes for a moment and let his thumb graze over the sapphire embedded in her ring. “D’you want kids?” He asked before he really thought about what conversation he was possibly opening up.

Louise drew back in surprise. “I-well I suppose we haven’t talked about it.” She agreed without outright answering him. She wasn’t in the mood to strike up a heated debate over the issue. Especially when they weren’t even married yet.

“I think we should.”

The admission came out fast and for a moment, Louise thought she hadn’t heard him right. “Well, I…yes I agree.”

They let the words sit in the air between them. They were thrilled that they were on the same page but both very worried in their unique way. The decision seemed much larger than anything else in their lives.

“I just know you’d be a good mum, s’all.” He shrugged sheepishly and looked down at her hand still resting in his. “Like to have kids of me own.”

“I think you’d be a wonderful father, Alfie.” Louise murmured truthfully. “You might not think so but I know how much love you’re capable of having.”

“I could protect you both.” He vowed. “Would fucking never let anything harm you. I’ve made mistakes that put you in danger but I-”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I know you could take care of us, I trust you. You’ve earned my trust and I know we’ll be able to keep that as we create a life together.” Her voice was breathless with excitement. It was surreal to imagine Inglewood full of life again. Not the hollow, stone building that had been drained of the love it once held. But a child, maybe even more than one, running around the home and playing in the yard. A little boy or girl with Alfie’s beautiful blue eyes. She could easily picture the smile on her fiancée’s face as he picked up a little child that so closely resembled him.

It nearly brought tears to Louise’s eyes. “I can’t wait for forever with you.” She whispered and took his face in her hands to kiss him.

Alfie wrapped his arms around her, letting her take his breath away like she had done many times before.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfie stayed the night in Inglewood. Louise fell right to sleep but he was restless. The silence of the countryside was bothering him and his own thoughts were much too loud.

So, he decided to take a lap around the home just to clear his head. He cursed the draft in the large halls and crossed his arms over his chest. The stairs creaked under him as he made his way downstairs. He passed through the foyer and wove through the parlor, the dining room, the front hall, and to the office.

The large portrait of Mr. Barnes startled Alfie for a moment as he passed by the doors. He paused and decided to go in.

Henry Barnes was a younger man when the portrait was painted. He had only just met his wife-to-be, but he was still the son of a wealthy aristocrat. He stood tall and proud like in the foyer portrait with his wife, Lily. His gentle eyes appeared to be looking down right at Alfie.

The gangster faced the painting and took a deep breath. He felt like a Christian going into confession. “I know that…” He sighed as he realized he was talking out loud to a piece of canvas. Nevertheless, he continued on. “Maybe m’not the best for her. Could be better men out there, right, that she could be with. All I know is I would do anything to keep her safe and happy. Would fucking die for her in a heartbeat if I had to.”

Henry didn’t move. The placid expression on his face remained just like it had for decades.

Alfie ran a hand through his hair and nodded absent-mindedly. “Never loved anyone like I love her.” He mumbled. “Fucking hurts me chest when I think ‘bout it sometimes. Yeah, dunno if I’m enough. Or if I’ll ever be.” He swallowed hard and took a few steps back. “Fucking talking to myself.” It was enough to get the words out of his head though, and he felt a bit lighter as he left the office. No matter what insecurities he might have, he knew for damn sure he was going to marry the love of his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While London was swarming with whispers of Alfie’s marriage, Camden Town had its own take on the matter. Simply put, Alfie was Jewish through and through. He was raised that way and despite his criminal activity, he would stay that way. Louise was not Jewish. Baptized in the Church of England, she had lost most faith in God. As far as Jewish law was concerned, they would not be allowed to wed.

Ever since he hit puberty, Perle would say Alfie needed to find a nice Jewish woman to marry. He never did, most fathers didn’t want their respectable daughters around the hellish Solomons boy. That didn’t bother him because he wasn’t interested in settling down. As a young man, he was more interested in laying out his empire.

Now that he had, Alfie only had eyes for one woman. Jewish law wouldn’t�� stop him. He tended to disregard all laws except his own.

Ollie and Alfie were inspecting areas of the bakery, making sure everything was running smoothly.

“Ollie, mate, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, sir.” The curly-haired man nodded. He looked up from his checklist.

“You said you and Shayna went to temple in Hampstead? What’s the rabbi’s name?”

Despite years working for him, Ollie was never able to guess what his boss was about to say. But they normally didn’t talk about religion. Alfie celebrated holidays typically with friends of his late mother or Ollie’s family. Camden embraced him because he gave to the Jewish community. Men tipped their hats and greeted him politely. Grandmothers often scolded him, saying he looked thin and promised to bring him heaps of food.

But they all knew what he did and how it conflicted with their shared beliefs. A busy man, Alfie attended temple when he had the chance. He sat in the back, a silent and domineering figure.

“Rabbi Mayer?”

“Right, you know him well?” Alfie continued to be cryptic.

“I suppose.” Ollie shrugged. “He married Shayna and me.” He reminded his boss who had been present.

“Thought so.” He scratched at his beard. “You think he’d be willing to overlook a few things?”

Well, Ollie had been asked stranger things before. “Like what?”

“Small bits ‘n bobs. Louise’s religion mostly.” He answered casually.

Rose had told her husband about what the other Camden women were gossiping about. How was Alfie, a Jewish gangster going to marry someone of a different faith? Certainly, no rabbi would conduct the ceremony. So would he neglect Jewish tradition? That was simply unheard of.

“And what if they have children?” Shayna had asked, throwing her hands up in disbelief. “It’s in his family. His brother did the same thing! He had some legal ceremony and never taught his son properly. Look at Goliath now.”

Ollie could understand his wife’s opinion. The community struggled to keep their traditions and identity. But he also knew Alfie would do as he wished. Hence, why he was asking for a rabbi who would break the rules.

“Sir, I’m not sure-”

“Look, I fucking know.” Alfie cut him off. “Not s’posed to do this but I ain’t going back on what I said. I’m marrying her.” His tone was firm and unyielding.

“Sir, even if he does marry you, everyone will know.” His assistant pointed out.

He grimaced. “Fucking gossips.” He grumbled under his breath. “Fuck it. You go to the rabbi, yeah, and let him name his price. If not, I’ll do it me own way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louise was back in Camden that same night. She was getting dressed for bed when Alfie arrived home. He entered the room with a smile.

“Love that color on you.” He admired the indigo nightgown she was wearing. It was one of many that Alfie had shipped in from Paris.

Louise smiled. “You say that no matter what I’m wearing.” She sat at the vanity to carefully undo the pins from her hair.

“Well, then.” He chuckled and stood behind her to rest his hands on her shoulders. “Maybe that’s ‘cause you’re beautiful in everything.” He murmured. “Also beautiful with nothing on too.” He touched his lips to her neck.

Louise rested a hand over his. She nuzzled his cheek lovingly. “How was your day?”

“Fine, nothing to write home ‘bout.” Alfie shrugged. He drew away and sat on the bed to remove his boots. Cyril curled up by his feet begging for a pat. He obliged, scratching behind the bullmastiff’s ears.

“Evelyn was talking to me about the wedding.” She informed him.

“Yeah?”

“Telling me about Jewish traditions.” Louise turned on the vanity seat to face him. “We can’t be married by a rabbi, can we?” Guilt hinted at her features.

“Well…” Alfie rubbed the back of his neck. “Not too sure yet.” He admitted.

She played with her engagement ring, circling the band around her finger. “Maybe I could convert, that way we won’t be breaking tradition. I don’t want people looking at you badly because you’re marrying me.”

Alfie frowned. “Lou, we just discussed this. I ain’t gonna make you change who you are for me.” He held his arms out for her.

She gladly curled up on his lap. His arms cradling her close and keeping her safe. She rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“I’m marrying you whether anyone likes it or not, yeah?” He kissed her hair. “Our wedding, our relationships, s’none of anyone else’s fucking business. If you want Jewish traditions then we’ll do them. Don’t fucking care if a rabbi’s there or not. Only care that you are.”

Louise frowned and chewed on her lower lip. “But your family…” Alfie came from hardship. Most of his family had been killed because of their religion. Perle had fought against all odds to deliver her sons to safety and provide for them. She raised them in a Jewish community to keep the culture alive even if they weren’t in their homeland.

“Lou, me mum only wanted me to be happy.” He assured her softly. “She probably would give me hell for it but at the end of the day, yeah, you make me smile. Not a lot of people can do that.”

She gently touched the corner of his mouth. “I want you to be happy.” Her eyes locked on his. “Whatever makes you happiest.”

Alfie could appreciate where he’d come from. He couldn’t neglect his past and what it took for him to get to the place he was. But of all the ways he had sinned, he decided that marrying Louise would be the least damning. “You make me the happiest.” He murmured and traced his thumb over her cheek. Her skin was warm, a faint blush forming under his touch. He briefly thought back to his monologue in front of her father’s portrait. “D’you ever get that feeling when your chest, right, when you love someone? S’like…” He scrunched up his nose in thought.

“It’s some sort of ache?” She suggested because she knew exactly what he was talking about. Her hand pressed to his chest, right above his heart. “It hurts because you had no idea you had the capacity to love someone so much.”

He nodded and let out a small laugh of fright. “Fucking afraid m’gonna wake up tomorrow and you’ll just be a dream.”

“One day you’re going to wake up in Inglewood, next to your wife.” She lovingly rubbed circles over his shoulders and the back of his neck where he held all his stress. His tense muscles started to relax after a bit of coaxing. “Your son or daughter will run into the room to wake you up and beg for you to come and play with them.”

He closed his eyes for a moment to picture the scene she was painting for him. “Sounds too good to be true.”

“It isn’t. Because you deserve peace and happiness, Alfie Solomons.”

He opened his eyes to find her looking earnestly at him. He tilted his head to the side and grumbled in protest. But he couldn’t argue with her. She held firm to her beliefs. “And that’s why no one can say anything ‘bout us getting married. ‘Cause you’re fucking perfect, ain’t ya? I’m going to marry you and our wedding, yeah, we’re doing it our way.”

She cuddled close to him. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Captain Solomons.” She teased softly and tucked into the crook of his neck.

He chuckled and rested back into the pillows. “Go to sleep, love, we’ve got lots to do tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Evelyn was thrilled. Life seemed to be going so well for her and everyone she loved. Alfie and Louise were getting married, it was about time, and they had given her a hefty raise to come work at Inglewood every other week. She adored being in the countryside but she could still go back to Camden to see Ishmael. The young man's face always lit up when she came back. He'd tell her how much he missed her and asked when they could see each other again. Things just seemed to be going so well. She was completely oblivious to the threat that Alfie and Louise were well aware of.

That weekend, Evelyn was accompanying Louise to try on her wedding dress one last time and make sure everything fit. They were only going down the street, but Alfie insisted Ishmael and another young man go with them along with Cyril.

“We’re not going downtown, we’re going to Nessa’s.” Louise told her fiancee, as he was busy sorting through shipment papers.

“I know, I put a call into her this morning.” He didn’t look up from his work, his blue eyes peering from behind his glasses at Ollie’s slanted handwriting.

“So I don’t need Ishmael and Nathan to come with us.” She said and knelt down to clip the leather lead to Cyril’s collar. Of course, she wouldn’t argue against taking him along. The mastiff’s tail wagged wildly, thumping against Alfie’s desk.

“I’ll just be a block away, Evelyn and I don’t need to be escorted.” She argued and stood up.

Alfie paused and dropped his papers to the side and opened the top left drawer. He pulled out a telegram and handed it to her without a word.

Uneasy, Louise took the paper from his hand and unfolded it.

Dear Mr. Solomons,

I hope to hear from you. I will be arriving in London soon. Mr. Shelby and his family have been notified.

Luca Changretta

She swallowed and absent-mindedly folded the telegram back to its original form. Her hands trembled. “What does he mean by notified?”

Alfie’s jaw was tight from the worry he was attempting to conceal. He reached for his empty revolver and spun the barrel a few times to keep his hands occupied. At that point, he wanted to get rid of Luca himself just so the man didn’t interfere with his life. The gangster would be damned if that Italian did anything to disrupt his wedding plans. “I contacted Tommy, they’ve all received black hands in the mail.”

“I’m not sure I know what that means.” Of course, she could guess it was nothing friendly. Cyril sensed her anxiety and pressed against her leg and nosed at her hand. She stroked his ears a few times to try and calm herself.

“Death threat. Changretta’s marked them as dead, all of them.” He rubbed his eyes and placed his gun down. “Lou, m’not sure what he’ll do to get me involved.” He admitted wearily. The telegram had only arrived that morning but it had already drained him of his energy. “The Shelbys are fucking scattered ‘bout and aren’t speaking to each other like fucking children.” He sighed. “I need to play me cards right.”

Louise wasn’t sure she liked where his line of thinking was going. “You better not be thinking about helping him.” She whispered.

He put a hand over his mouth and averted his eyes. A clear sign of deception. “Didn’t say that, did I?” He muttered.

“You were thinking it.” She accused. “Alfie, just try and stay out of it. You don’t have to team up with the Shelbys but you can’t help to kill them!” Her hand was wrapped tightly around Cyril’s lead as she tried to steer clear of an argument with him. She couldn’t risk getting into a fight a week away from their wedding.

“Lou, I told you it weren’t that simple.” He stood up and walked around his desk to stand in front of her. He slipped the paper out of her hand. “Yeah?”

Louise pressed her tongue to her cheek and exhaled steadily. “What are you planning to do?” It was the same question she asked months earlier when Luca sent the first telegram. But things had advanced even though Alfie had been static.

“Wait.” He replied. “My focus is on our wedding. Changretta ain’t here yet so there’s no need to fret. The Shelbys will get their act together once they realize what they’re fucking up against. Whatever comes our way, yeah, we’ll handle it.” He lifted her chin gently.

“I’m worried that your judgment may be clouded if Luca threatens us.” She admitted.

A stormy look dashed across his eyes. “Sabini would be wise to inform them of the consequences.” His voice was low with anger. Even the thought of Luca going after Louise made his blood boil.

She sighed and touched his cheek to distract him from his obvious displeasure. “I may be naïve to a situation like this. But I urge you to talk to me about it so you don’t make any unnecessary sacrifices.”

Alfie had a feeling that she didn’t know how much he’d be willing to sacrifice if he was forced between a rock and a hard place. “There’s a Yiddish saying, right, ‘for a little love, you pay all your life’. I can leave this be.” He gestured to the telegram still in his hand. “You’ll go back to Inglewood tonight and get ready for the wedding.”

Indeed they had spoken about traditions and which ones Alfie wished to respect. When Louise got word of her fiancee trying to bribe Rabbi Mayer, she had to step in and stop him from extorting a man of God. After the weekend, Louise would leave Alfie behind in Camden Town and they would be apart for a week for Kabbalat Panim. Now that she knew about Luca’s message, she was hesitant to leave just in case Alfie decided to make a move without telling her.

“And what will you do?” She inquired.

“Nothing.” He tossed the telegram onto his desk. “Just keep listening for news and stay neutral. Focus is on you, love.” He promised softly. “We’ll get married and be off to Paris ‘fore you know it.”

“What about the Shelbys?”

“Not much I can do, can I? Fucking got themselves in this mess.” He shrugged. “Tommy clearly has a plan, don’t he?”

She nodded slowly. There was a knock on the door and Evelyn’s voice piped up from the other side. “Louise, are you almost ready?”

“I’ll see you tonight ‘fore you leave.” Alfie kissed her forehead. “Try not to worry too much ‘bout all this. Nothing will happen until I decide what to do.” Of course, he couldn’t promise that. He had no control over what Luca did once he crossed the Pond. He could show up at the bakery door the same day he arrived with a proposition for Alfie. And he sure as hell didn’t have any clue what Tommy was planning. To say Alfie wasn’t worried about his wedding day being ruined would be a lie. He was desperate to make Louise happy and if his dealings interfered with that, he would be upset with the perpetrators, of course, but he’d also be upset with himself. She deserved a quiet life in Surrey with her husband. But with the danger looming, Alfie could only hope that they would have an interrupted wedding. After that, he could handle the chaos. He could take care of what he needed to and take care of whoever was in his way. Whether it was Luca Changretta or Tommy Shelby.

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