I don't own Peaky Blinders nor the characters from the show. Only my own fictional ones.I am from Germany.I am trying hard to write in perfect grammar and I hope there aren't any bad ass crazy mistakes. If so, please comment! I am here to learn.So far so good, enjoy my story!We are in the year 1922, two years after the dead of Billy Kimber.Grace left Tommy and she never came back. He found love again, married and destroyed by the woman he loved - again. How should it be otherwise.So at this point he is very cold hearted and upset. It will take some time to warm him up, but I like the cold Tommy as much as the lovely! Hope you too.

Song for this chapter:

That Deadly Sound - Andrew Kirrel

For him getting what he wants was an important part of his business and this evening he worked with self-confident ease to achieve success.

But first he had to escape the hustle and bustle from the hallway below him. This was not his home and it had taken him a long time to find an acceptable - and empty - space.

He was not interested in watching or listening to others fuck. And finding a room where none of the guests were having fun with another had been hard - and the rooms were almost countless.

But in the end he managed to slip into a hidden room.The door was located between two large and impressive cupboards, so it was hardly visible at first sight.

But his trained eye for a solution had helped him to escape the hectic pace.The landlord must have meant well with his guests, because as in any of the many other rooms, a fire was burning in a small, artistically bricked fireplace. The flames were the only source of light in the room and so he could close his eyes for a short moment in complete silence.

In his hand he held a heavy glass half filled with Irish whisky. He took a big gulp before sitting down on one of the upholstered chairs, his forearms resting on his knees.

He knew that he could not stay here too long without his partner looking for him. He leaned back and put his head back into the neck.

»Fuck« he whispered.

Then he realized that he didn't have to whisper because there was no one around.

»Fuck!« he shouted. Lately he had often feared that this time he might be less successful in getting out of the business. Especially when he was introduced to the new wife of his business partner.

Before he could think more deeply about the events to come, the door of the room was ripped open and he had already expected to drive away two lusty guests when he saw that only one person had come in.

It was a woman. She did not seem to notice him and he preferred to postpone any conversation with other people as much as possible so he waited if she would notice him.

But in the end he realized that the woman would not turn around in the near future. Her forehead was still leaning against the dark wood of the door when he cleared his throat.

Frightened, the woman flinched. Then she apologized for her sudden appearance but still did not turn around.

»Pardon me. There was a man...«

»Well, here's another one« said the said man as he pulled a cigarette case from the inside of his jacket. With a practiced hand movement he lit a match and let the end of the cigarette glow in his mouth. He blew out the smoke without a word and did not turn his gaze away from the woman in front of him.

»Obviously.« The woman's answer was saturated with nervousness. Finally she turned to the man in the armchair. Before she could add anything he stood up and watched her with deliberate interest.

He noticed that his counterpart did not suit the type of person who dressed most of the guests at the event among them. She was wearing a simple rust-brown skirt and a white blouse with a high embroidered collar - nothing special and much too simple for such an event.

»You a whore or somethin?« he asked and pulled deeply on his cigarette.

He thought she was a maid hired to satisfy some of the desires of selected guests. He saw that he had assumed something absolutely wrong when gloom overshadowed the face of the woman in front of him.

»No. Far away from that.« Nervously she turned around to the door again when footsteps were heard. She held her breath until those steps moved away again.

»No whore, no maid. What you then?« Actually he was not very interested but it was easier for him to talk to a stranger than to go down again and face the uncommon.

»Not that it's any of your business but if you want to know exactly ... my brother is employed as a chef in this household. I'm just his sister, no one else.«

»So you are here without permission« he answered soberly and sighed. What was going on? He had a business to do. One of the most important of his company.

Two years ago he met a powerful man in a race. Not much later after he put a bullet between Billy Kimber's eyebrows.

The man who would be an important supporter of Shelby Company Limited from that time on was no one but todays host Chester Vaughn Hallow-Cast. A young rich financier and enthusiastic betting participant and manipulist.

He was a supporting link of the company for a long time - till he fucked a members wife.

The wife of that man who was now in one of the wives fucker's chambers and was chatting with a strange woman.

As if it wasn't his plan to transport his former ally to a tomb perfectly excavated for him.

After Mr. Hallow-Cast came out of the bedroom of that now very angry ex-husband that ex-husband threw out his wife. He took away her right to cooperate with the company and the family.

The only thing he left her was some money. He paid her very well for her faithful services as a whore, which she had become in his eyes.

For two years Chester and the man had been close friends.They shared the same interests, goals and sense of humor. He became another brother and member of the family.

On the one hand they owed him almost every take in recent years because he was excellent at manipulating races and competitors and making sure that the betting ben was always well filled. He even got them a new location and under a legal name - thanks to Billy Kimber for that - they ran a betting office and did an excellent job.

But in the last period of their friendship it had become apparent that it was not enough for Chester to be just part of the company. He wanted to run it. Stealthily he began to persuade his allies to make bad decisions which he was then able to iron out in a winning manner.

On the other hand he accidentally slipped his cock into the pussy of Thomas Shelby's wife.

Sighing asthe woman in front of him seemed to answer nothing but silence he surveyed the room.

High walls, narrow, but very long and at the end stood a desk made of solid wood. He went straight to that desk and sat down on the wide chair.

»What are you doing?« the unknown woman asked and stepped into the light of the fireplace.

She was beautiful but not above average. Women like her Tommy had seen many times at Watery Lane. He turned off the almost empty whiskey glass and watched the woman try to understand him.

»What I can do« was his answer.

He crossed his hands on the tabletop, the cigarette loosely between his lips. Next to his glass was a glass ashtray and he tapped on his cigarette, watched the glow drop and extinguish on the cold glass.

He examined the papers in front of him. Invoices, documents, letters. In the first drawer he discovered some cheques.

Why not?

He folded two of the highest and made them disappear in the inside of his jacket. Chester wouldn't be able to redeem them anyway if Tommy was successful.

»And why can you do something like that?«

He almost forgot he was being watched. But he didn't care.

He was Thomas Shelby. If he wanted to make use of the cheques of a man who was about to be killed, he would. A thousand pounds per check - so again, why not?

»Because« he replied, the cigarette between his teeth as he set out to search the rest of the drawers. The bottom one was locked.

»Do you have a hairpin, Miss...«

He didn't really care what her name was but the old habit of being polite to beautiful women led him to ask for her name.

»November« she answered and wrapped her arms around her petite body. She felt more uncomfortable with every second in a room with a man searching foreign desks.

»Miss November, do you carry a hairpin?« He repeated and waited if she would answer him.

Nodding Miss November grabbed her blond hair and pulled out a long hairpin. This caused her hair to loosen and short golden waves fell on her shoulder.

»Happy or sad?« she asked and waited for his answer.Shaking his head and deeply hurt by the circumstances that he had just had to kill his horse, he replied.»Sad.«Somehow he wanted her to sing him something sad. Something in which he could escape for a few painful minutes without revealing too much of himself.»Okay«, she said. »But I warn you. It'll break your heart.«He closed his eyes suppressing the tears that wanted to break through his hard wall. He just wanted to listen. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to think. Just listen. And in particular he wanted to be beguiled by her. She was like a drug to him. Slowly but steadily he became addicted to her.»Already broken« he replied and swallowed.What he said was true. Somehow he knew that fate was not willing to give him a good thing in life without having to pay a high price afterwards.

Caught in the memory of the woman he once loved, he imagined hearing her nervous breath, followed by her voice as she began to sing.

»I'll place it here.« A different but almost equally sweet voice tore him out of his memory and he appeared in the bitter reality.

He had not noticed that the woman who reminded him of Grace had come closer and had placed the hairpin in front of him. She stared at him not sure if he was mentally present. Her palms began to shivt. What if he was a serial killer? Who knew that? She wanted to leave but she didn't dare.

»Thank you.«

Tommy squeezed out his cigarette and took the needle. Then he skilfully stitched around the closed drawer until it was open. Triumphantly he stared down at the pistol that presented itself to him.

Bayard 1908 from Belgium.

He wasn't surprised that a rich man like Chester had such an exostic weapon. It was small but handy. And loaded, that Tommy noted with a skilful test.They had taken all his weapons away from him when he arrived - it seemed that Chester would not trust him for one more second.

A frightened sound came from Miss November's direction. She had put a hand on her mouth and her eyes opened wide. She had never seen such an armed man. Especially not a stranger.

»Oh, don't be afraid. It's not meant for you« Tommy threw in and put the gun behind his waistband, then he closed his jacket over it.

»Unless you betray me« he added smiling at the fear that flashed in the woman's eyes.

All courtesy was forgotten. Now it was time to do business. He twirled the hairpin between his fingers then walked past the woman to the side table next to the chair on which he had recently sat and put down the needle.

»I'll place it here« he said, smiling again. Then he went out without another word, ready to face everything and everyone.