A/N: Thank you for all the follows and favourites!

Enjoy the return of an old nemesis.


XXII FAMILIAR FACES

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐓𝐎 return to their everyday lives once the company returned from their London escapade.

The days prolonged endlessly, and though she wouldn't admit it, Caterina looked over her shoulder more frequently than before. Darby Sabini was biding his time, patiently, waiting to strike back for the act of disrespect they preformed in the capital.

She waited as he turned the locks on the door, content with their evening ritual. Thomas would always wait until all the other workers trickled out of the company offices, one by one as the night settled over Birmingham. He'd wait until Caterina finally dropped her pen in exhaustion or her fingers started to hurt from pressing down on the typewriter and decided to call it a night.

As wonderful as becoming legitimate sounded in theory, no one had warned them of the incessant amount of legal paperwork they'd have to pour over on daily basis. Every penny had to be accounted for, every crate that was shipped, every meeting written down on paper.

"I'll head to Lizzie's. Can't wait to tell her she'll be working for us." Caterina said, pushing her hands deeper inside the coat pockets as she watched Tommy check the locks one more time before they headed down the road.

Sometimes they'd end up in The Garrison for a round of drinks, or he'd drive them down to the Cut to talk and smoke a pack or two before they headed to Watery Lane. It was almost domestic, the comfortable silence in which they'd sit for hours, exchanging bits of their past lives, planning a future.

"Things are starting to happen and I need people we can rely on. And I've seen you struggle with all the unnecessary paperwork." He hid his smirk behind his hands cupping the flame against the tip of his cigarette.

He certainly knew how to push her buttons because Cat flashed him a withering glare. "Oh do shut up, I'm not struggling."

In truth, they were quite understaffed.

What kind of sensible woman would come work for a known gangster, sully her reputation and possibly put her life in harm? Those that accepted the job didn't last a month once they took a look at the books, two at most. It was her way of repaying Lizzie for everything she gave her; protection when she needed it, and a roof over her head. She was the one person that kept her sane and whole for years, and the least she could do for her was to give her a proper job, with a proper pay as an opportunity to start her life afresh.

"I need one of the boys from the shop deliver me the full transaction list for this week." Caterina changed the subject stealthily. "You need to find something to invest the excess in, we can't just keep hoarding the bills in the company safe."

"I've got some things in mind already." He replied vaguely, puffing out smoke into the chilly air of the night.

"And I presume you'll keep those things a secret until it's convenient for you." It was more of a statement than a question.

He hummed in agreement. "I just might."

"You'd die if you didn't have your secrets, wouldn't you?" She sighed as they arrived to their destination, one of the old warehouses Tommy bought and turned into a garage to park the ever growing car collection of the family.

"This secret you might even approve of." A slip of a smile covered his face, watching as the brunette in front of him chuckled.

"Night Tommy, I'll see you in the morning." In a moment of bravery she stood on her toes, pressing a brief kiss onto the hollow slope of his cheek, not noticing the way his entire body tensed form the soft impact of her warm lips against his face.

"Night, love."

It took all the strength he had in his body not to run after her and kiss her senselessly, drowning in the crashing waves of what he felt with every fibre of his being. She deserves better. He remained standing there for a few more moments, watching as she rounded the corner and disappeared into the misty night. With a sigh, he threw the remainder of his cigarette on the pavement, squashing it with his shoe.

As he rummaged through his pocket in search for the car key, Tommy tried to shake off the unsettling feeling someone was watching him. It was a curious trait he ascribed to his gypsy blood, a churning of his guts they called foresight, a third eye.

Once he finally heard the footsteps coming behind him and firm hands grabbing his shoulders it was too late. Darby Sabini had come to make him pay.


Boots broke his ribs and fists pounded against his skull. His mouth was filled with metallic taste of blood, dizzying, choking. They dug around his mouth for a golden tooth and Birmingham's most feared man kneeled in agony, half alive and halfway in his grave, before London's ruler.

"Look at me. Look at me." Sabini hissed, grabbing his chin and making him look upwards. Blood trickled down his face and into his eyes, stinging.

The Italian towered over him mercilessly, Though his face was half shrouded with a bowler hat he wore, the fury in his eyes shined bright enough. "You have the fucking decency to walk into my club in my city with something that's supposed to be mine and parade it right into my face."

His head felt heavy, far too heavy for it to stand straight and he could feel bile climbing up his throat. Sabini was talking about Cat-did they get her? Did she make it to Lizzie's?

"You take up with the Jews. You think London works like that. You just come down and pick a side. You fucking clown. Now your life is over." Sabini's thin moustache twitched in a cruel smirk as he motioned his boys, Georgie, to deal the final blow.

"My face is the last thing you will see on earth. Your mistake. Remember that when you get to hell. I was happy with peace. You broke the rules..."


Thomas jolted from the nightmare he relived, the sudden movement causing sharp pain to coarse through his body. It took some time for his swollen eyes to adjust to the light streaming from one of the windows in the room, and even then it hurt to open the other one.

Hollow taps could be heard, nearing, and Tommy wasn't quite sure if that was the pressure tapping against his skull or someone approaching his room. It turned out to be latter, and the sight left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Ah, you paid extra for daylight. The racketeering business must be booming." Chester Campbell stood at the door, his beady eyes surveying the damage inflicted upon the Shelby man. "Are you not going to thank me for saving your life?"

"Pass my cigarettes?" Tommy asked him, pointing at the small bedside table on his left.

Campbell limped over to the table, his cane tapping against the tiles all the way there, and dropped the packet onto his chest. "Three nights ago, at the co-operative stables in Montague Street, there was a murder. A man named Duggan."

"The Oxfordshire constabulary found his body in a shallow grave." In his black attire, Campbell stood at the end of Tommy's bed like a bringer of death.

"I know it was you who carried out the murder of Mr Duggan." Campbell told him, basking in the power her held over the unmovable man on the bed.

"Where's your lovely wife, Inspector Campbell?" A familiar exotic drawl made the hairs on his stand, though he would never show it.

Chester turned to look at his assassin, leaning on the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. Even lacking sleep and disheveled from sitting in the waiting room for hours, Caterina Cardinale looked fierce in her rage — fiercely beautiful.

When one of the boys came knocking on her bedroom door in the middle of the night, she feared the worst. The family packed into cars and flew into the hospital only to be informed that Tommy was still in emergency care. His body took on an inhuman amount of beating, the doctor told them, and it was sheer luck that he was still alive.

She ordered him to be taken into one of the private rooms, slipping some money to the nurses to make it one with windows and a bathroom, and had Arthur and John put up ten of their best men to watch the hospital at all times.

Polly excused herself once morning came, telling her to send word once he woke up and headed to pray at St. Andrew's while Cat was the only one that remained behind, waiting. She had only gone to speak to the nurse for a moment, not expecting to find an unwelcome intruder on Tommys bedside.

"Miss Cardinale," they locked eyes as she sauntered into the room, not breaking their eye contact until he looked down, temper rising. Grace was obviously still a touchy subject for everyone in the room.

"My wife lives comfortably, and lacks nothing." Chester told them passively. "She's happy, happier than she was in this devils hole."

"And how's your leg? I imagine being shot by a woman hurts the same as being shot by a man. Just a bit more shameful." Cat jabbed smugly, noticing the way he leaned on the cane on his side.

"You know mister Campbell, when I got shot they gave me a medal. No medal for you I bet." Tommy taunted, breathing out the smoke from his cigarette.

"Mr Shelby, our reunion...is part of a very carefully worked out plan, which has been in place for some time now." Campbell leaned over his bed.

"Every time you lean on that stick I bet you see my face." Cat mused, enjoying the way it rilled up the Inspector.

"And as a result of the information in my possession, I can charge you with murder at any time and provide two impeccable Crown witnesses whose testimony will lead you directly to the gallows. And not only you, but also our dear Caterina for blackmail, arson and murder of one Emilio Stranzi. "

Air caught in her throat at the mention of that name, blood freezing in her veins, giving Campbell the satisfaction of seeing a flash of fear across her face.

"No.."

How could he possibly know of some minor shooting almost ten years ago? What else did he have on her? Caterina could only watch as Campbells hand shot out, grabbing the weak mans neck, squeezing until his face turned red and he wheezed in agony.

There was nothing she wished more than to choke the living daylight out of the Irishman, but she knew that was not the option. They had to dance to his tune for a while, until they could find a way to eliminate him for good.

"You are on my hook, Mr Shelby. And from this moment forward... you belong to me." Campbell smirked, letting him go, watching as Tommy's jaw clenched and unclenched. "Or else Miss Cardinale might find herself on the end of a rope."

"So, get well quickly. I'll be in touch the moment I hear you can piss standing up without your loyal nurse. Then I will send you your instructions."

"Good thing he's not going anywhere without me. I'm his bloody impulse control." Cat replied drily, though it was directed more at Tommy.

They remained silent until Campbell left the room and his cane was no longer heard clicking against the hospital tiles.

Both of the rooms occupants released a breath of relief. "Sabini and our dearest Inspector. You do know how to choose your enemies."

Caterina analysed his face, noting the purple, swollen eye and a deep cut across his cheekbone. His usually demure face was even more drained now, the exhaustion he felt finally setting in. "Does it hurt?"

Tommy winced with a nod. "Proved his point pretty good. I'll be fine."

"Three cracked ribs, one tooth, a broken nose, serious concussion and possible scull fracture, one broken toe and internal bleeding." Caterina sat down on the edge of his bed, her face losing the tension as she talked.

"I was worried." She cursed herself for sounding so lame, mundane.

Tommy reached forward to grasp one of her hands in his own, calming her effectively. "If he got his hands on you..."

"But he didn't and we'll get our revenge tenfold as soon as you recover." Caterina reassured him firmly. It was not just Sabini she was talking about, but Campbell as well. What a mistake it had been, letting him live that day at that train station, one that she would regret until the day she died.

"We're like sitting ducks here." He said, pulling off the sheets that covered his body with a pained motion. "Easy pickings. I can't stay here."

"Where do you think you're going?" She accused him, placing one hand on his bandaged chest in an attempt to stop him from getting out of the bed. "You can't even breath properly with those cracked ribs, let alone walk."

"First, Charlie's yard," He listed, gently pushing her hand away. "Then I'm getting on a boat. To London."

"And you are going home. If I don't come back you're in charge." Tommy stated firmly, as if it was a case not up for discussion.

"Bloody likely I'd let you go on by yourself." Cat scoffed, collecting all the personal items the nurses must have taken out of Tommys garments. A lighter and a pack of cigarettes, his leather wallet and keys, one gold pocket watch and his flat cap.

"If you'll get yourself killed I might as well come a long to tell you you're an idiot for going in the first place."

"Stubborn woman." He muttered as she reluctantly helped him into his trousers and coat.

Throwing one hand over her shoulders, Tommy leaned almost his full weight on her petite form, causing the Italian to grunt and complain all the way to Charlies yard, half dragging his beaten up form. "I should get a pay rise for all the shit I do for you."

It would be a lie to say she didn't think about throwing him into the Cut when he chuckled at that.