"The Daily Mail had recently published contents of a supposed letter written by one Grigori Zinoviev, the current president of the Comintern, encouraging the Labour Party to support soviet interests. As a result, the Labour Party lost the election in favour of the Conservatives. There are certain people who believe that the letter is a forgery. However, there are others pointing to a conspiracy to get the people to vote against the Labour party in establishing a new government. And I have clear evidence indicating a Secret Intelligence Officer is responsible for leaking such a letter on the orders of Mr. Churchill."

"YOU ARE LYING!"

"The proof of this conspiracy is not on me, Mr. Bigge. And I can assure you that it will not fall into any hands. As long as you ensure the safety of my family from the Crown's guards."

"Gypsy scum."

"Are we in agreement?"

"Yes. Now, get out of here."

Arthur Bigge was holding his head in his hands, more wrinkles having appeared on his face in the past few weeks and the darkness under his eyes was proof of the stress His Majesty had put on him.

The Peaky Blinders, a gang from Birmingham who had managed to expand all the way to London, had them all by the fucking balls with proof of Winston Churchill's conspiracy. That letter between Churchill and the Secret Service officer not only revealed how false the Zinoviev letter was, but it also proved that His Majesty knew about it.

If it ever got out, it would be chaos all over England. Thomas Shelby got what he wanted. He freed his family from prison, got them all safely back to his home city, but the letter…that fucking letter was still in his possession.

Had Bigge known that the robbery at Hampton Court provided this much information that could be used against the Crown, he wouldn't have let the Shelbys and the Grays off so lightly.

The letter proving that King George and Winston Churchill were involved with the White Movement had been burned, as per their agreement, but Thomas Shelby had been sneaky, cocky, making sure that the Crown would continue to be under his thumb, so that none of the reward offered to his gang would be taken away from them.

Now there was news of the Sicilian Mafia coming all the way from New York from Birmingham to deal with the Shelbys, get revenge for the death of the old Changretta gang leader. Karma was coming Thomas Shelby's way and it would bite him exactly where it hurts.

It was time for the Crown to decide Mr. Shelby's future. Would they intervene and get the foreign invaders to leave the country or would they step aside and let the Sicilian Mafia destroy him?

A knock on the door got Bigge's attention and he grumbled, "Come in."

"Mr. Churchill is here, sir."

"Yes. Let him in, please." Bigge replied, waving the person away.

Winston Churchill, now Chancellor of the Exchequer and part of prime minister Baldwin's team, entered, his face extremely displeased, but his tone did not seem to match those feelings. His voice was calm, composed. But Bigge knew that this was the sign to look for when someone like Churchill was feared.

"Mr. Bigge." Churchill took the time to take off his humungous coat and hat.

"Please, have a seat, sir." Arthur Bigge pointed to the chair in front of him in a polite way. Chancellor of the Exchequer, but Churchill's ambitions would amplify and everyone in the ministry knew. He would be prime minister one day, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

The King's Private Secretary welcomed the Chancellor of the Exchequer with open arms. A representative of the Crown meeting a representative of the ministry. Neither King George nor Prime Minister Baldwin knew all that Bigge and Churchill knew.

Neither one of them were aware that the Peaky Blinders, having become the most powerful gang in England, were in possession of information which could destroy them both. The Crown and the Ministry were the two pillars which were on the verge of collapsing, so they had to support one another.

"How is our dear Mr. Shelby?" Winston Churchill asked, lighting himself a cigar and puffing the first round of smoke, not even bothering to ask Bigge if he could.

Churchill was not the Prime Minister, yet he was surely acting that way, and there were no objections coming from others.

"Alive…unfortunately."

Churchill offered a small smirk, very immersed in his cigar. "I am pleased to hear that we seem to share the same point of view here, Mr. Bigge."

"The letter, Mr. Churchill. Thomas Shelby knows about it. He has proof. It's how he keeps us as bay. We can't touch that family…"

"Yes, I know all about it." Churchill replied grimly.

"I handled it the best I could…" Bigge tried to explain but Churchill cut him off. "Yes, I am sure you did."

The silence which followed made Bigge extremely uncomfortable. Winston Churchill must have something planned if he was willing to give Bigge the time of day. But what exactly? And would it be something known by His Majesty the King? Bigge thought not, otherwise Churchill would have asked an audience with King George himself.

"Does the name Changretta mean anything to you, Mr. Bigge?" Churchill finally asked the man, looking him straight in the eye.

Letting out a pretty loud sigh, Bigge leaned back in his chair and explained, "Of course. As you very well must know, Mr. Churchill, our poor country has had to suffer an invasion of Italian crime families for years now. They have adopted our ways, deal with existing English gangs like the Peaky Blinders and some of them have proven themselves useful to the Crown. But with their continued outside influence, it is hard to keep them in control as we would the English gangs. The Changrettas are not as influential as the Sabinis in Little Italy but…"

"On the contrary, Mr. Bigge. That seems to have changed from what I hear. Is it not true that the New York Mafia led by Luca Changretta has been walking about through England for a long while now? It is your job to be the most informed man in the country, is it not?"

The atmosphere in the room changed immediately and Arthur Bigge was having a hard time keeping himself together. He had hoped that this matter wouldn't be brought up. He knew about it of course, but how to deal with it was not something he had the answer to.

"I have discussed the matter with his His Majesty, of course, Mr. Churchill. We are of the impression that Luca Changretta is here to…settle some scores one would say. The Shelby family are responsible for the death of his father and brother. It's a vendetta and a very dangerous one at that. Although the only declared targets are Thomas Shelby and his family, we cannot be certain that these foreign invaders will not turn their attention to our own people. His Majesty and I have not yet decided how to handle this matter."

"And you do not consider Thomas Shelby to be part of our people, although he is an Englishman, and a war hero might I add." Churchill asked him, a small smile gracing his face as he finished his cigar.

"I will be very frank with you, Mr. Churchill. At this moment, Thomas Shelby has something which he can use to damage the Crown's credibility and integrity. The letter he possesses could also ensure that you never achieve your goal…" Bigge stopped talking when he realised what he was about to say.

He was not about to insult the man that could one day be the Prime Minister of this country. Lowering his gaze from Churchill's stern look, he found the courage to speak more softly.

"We eagerly await your suggestion, Mr. Churchill."

"I am pleased to see that my thoughts are still of value to the Crown." Churchill replied sarcastically, making Bigge cringed as a result. After much conversation, they had reached the point where Churchill would instruct the Crown how to proceed. And Bigge would do well to listen.

"Thomas Shelby is a very clever man. Ambitious and cunning. He served me well with the White Movement. But it would seem that my gratitude and support no longer satisfy him. So much so that it has given him the push he needed to defy me. Believe he can blackmail the most influential men in this country with no consequence. But now…his time has come. As clever as Mr. Shelby is, I do not believe he can handle having both the New York Mafia and the Crown nipping at his heels."

Bigge was beginning to realise where Churchill was going with this. He had to ask either way. Looking around as if afraid there was anyone close by who could hear them, Bigge whispered, "You mean…what you are suggesting is for the Crown to support our American guests…"

"Of course not, Mr. Bigge." Churchill tsked and added, "That wouldn't be very patriotic of us now, would it?"

"Then…?" Bigge continued, a question in his mind remaining unanswered. But it seems that Churchill liked playing with him just a little longer.

Folding his arms over his chest, Churchill continued, "We are presented with a few options. Either we stand aside and let our American guests fulfil their purpose here…or we end them. We have to make a very important decision here. The question is…who is currently the greatest threat to the stability of our country?"

The question was of course a rhetorical one.

Bigge nodded, and stated, "I believe we have reached an understanding, Mr. Churchill. Would you care for a drink?"

With a glint in his eye, Churchill responded, "I would love one, Mr. Bigge."

…

There was a lot of tension going on at Polly's. You could sense it a mile away. The New York Mafia was closing in on them and the family was more and more divided. Not even Tatiana was in any mood to make jokes or annoy the household ladies with her sass.

The conversation she had with Tommy the other day drew a sadness in her that she had not felt in a long time. Of course, she didn't know anything about his mother, her death or how he had felt about it. Nor did she want to start any conversation with him about God. What kind of God could a man like him have, after all?

For too long she had spent her time scheming in order to survive. The civil war in her home country had made her ruthless…one would say cold…perhaps even a little crazy. But that was not the real her. It wasn't her when her sister, Alyona, had been alive. Now, she felt herself incapable of showing true emotion. She tried…and somehow, she believed Tommy had been trying to as well. Not for herself of course, but for the baby. That was why he was pushing the bond with his son.

Charlie was more and more a part of her life. Tatiana started feeling plenty of comfort in the presence of the young boy. The kindness and naivety of such a child was making her feel protective of him. Just as Tommy wanted it to, she supposed. Practice, for when their own child would be born.

Touching her belly, Tatiana made her down to the living room, where the whole family was assembled. As always, Tommy was standing in one of his expensive suits, in one of his hands, the peaky featuring the famous gang razor blades, while some papers were held in the other. His blue eyes met her own hazel ones. No one else in the room knew of course about their conversations.

Clearing his throat, Tommy acknowledged Tatiana's presence to the rest of the family present. Slowly, her former duchess took a seat on a chair in the back of the room, not yet feeling any sense of belonging in this family.

"A letter with the King's seal arrived here yesterday." Tommy started saying and held the invitations in the air. "We are invited to a Christmas party at Sandringham House in Norfolk, by the Duke and Duchess of York themselves."

Tommy looked around at the people in the room and noticed their pensive faces. Arthur seemed to be the only one without a problem. A good party, something good to drink…he was on board. What was the harm? But Polly and Ada knew. It was written all over their faces. This was no ordinary invitation. And it seemed Tommy was going to have to make that clear to the rest of the family.

"Although we have invested quite a lot of our time in this vendetta, we seem to have forgotten that there are important officials in this country who require my attention…important people who rely on our discretion concerning government secrets." Tommy explained and John rolled his eyes, knowing what this was about. More secrets…ones that his older brother refused to share with him and Arthur. Whatever schemes he had going on with Churchill and the rest, John knew nothing of it. And he was getting sick and tired of it.

It didn't help John's mood thinking about what had transpired yesterday, and Tommy's proposition. In a way, he was glad that Lizzie was manning the office and not present at this meeting. He couldn't stand to be in the same room with her and Tommy. His brother was not going to tell him who he should marry, like he did with Esme. This time, it would be his own fuckin' choice.

And as far as this Christmas party was concerned, John didn't give a fuck that Tommy had secret dealing with the politicians which he wants to handle. The only thing he cared about was this vendetta, finally making sure that the wops get what's coming to them. But if he had to go, he would bring Emily. And there was nothing Tommy could do to stop him.

"What I am trying to say is that we were not invited to this party out of the goodness of their hearts. The Crown wants us close again…and for good reason. I have something they need. Something big." Tommy made eye contact with Tatiana at that moment, knowing it was a piece of information he freely shared with her.

"The Duke and Duchess of York clearly didn't act on their own when they had this letter sent out to us." Polly agreed with his input.

Tommy nodded and murmured deep in thought, "Churchill will most likely be present. And some other people…"

"So, the question is, do we go?" Michael asked.

"That's why I called a family meeting. We vote on it. All those in favor of going, raise your hands!" Tommy announced, before raising his hand. As did Arthur, John, Polly, Michael and Linda. Ada kept her hand down, clearly against it.

Tatiana, on the other hand, had no problem raising her hand slowly as high as she could go. She made eye contact with Tommy in doing so. He could perceive it as a challenge if he wished, but she was sick of being cooped up in this house, hidden from the world just because she was carrying Thomas Shelby's baby.

Before Tommy could open his mouth and say anything, Tatiana stood up and went over to his sister's side, stating boldly, "Ada, I will need a dress."

"You are not going!" Tommy snapped, rather loudly, from the front of the room. The room went silent, as the head of the family eyed the woman carrying his child in a cold manner.

Approaching her slowly, like a lion stalking his prey, Tommy pointed a finger in her direction and spoke more softly, "You are not going. You need to be kept here, where it's safe. I will be certain to place Moss, Curly and some of our new recruits around the house for protection."

Tatiana crossed her hands over her chest but said nothing. The expression on her face said all that needed to be said. Tommy could very well try and stop her. It couldn't be done.

…

Shelby Company Limited was impressive now in 1924. A lot has changed over the past year. May Carleton noticed the differences when she stepped into the office. The expansion of the legitimate business all throughout England, especially London, had certainly given the Shelby family an edge compared to the other gangs throughout the country.

May could remember Tommy telling her about the downfall of Billy Kimber and his Brum Boys. Kimber's death resulted in the disintegration of the Brum Boys as a gang, and the Peaky Blinders took over all of the racetrack pitches. But the Shelbys were no longer simple bookies.

Lizzie Stark was still the Company's secretary, she could see. May wondered if Lizzie remembered her. Not that they interacted much in the past.

With confidence, May stepped forward to her desk and said, "Hello."

Lizzie looked up with a surprised look on her face and then shifting to boredom. Somehow, May knew that this woman recognized her.

"Good morning, Lady Carleton." Lizzie said, a touch of boredom in her voice as well. May wasn't certain that she liked her tone, so she replied, "I'm not a Lady. I prefer it if you would call me May. We know each other, do we not?"

Lizzie put down the pen and glared at her. "Indeed we do. So, what are you doing here? I don't think that Mr. Shelby is interested in horse care for the moment. He has a lot of other things on his mind."

"I heard." May responded more softly, remembering what Curly had told her. All about the Mafia from New York targeting the Shelby family. May knew she would want to talk to Tommy about it. Maybe she could help in some way.

"Have you?" Lizzie asked her, suspiciously.

"Yes. From Curly. Anyway, the horses are not why I am here. I was hoping to speak to him…Lizzie. On a more personal matter." May responded.

"Well, I really don't think that would be possible. He's not in today and as you can see, I am busy."

Not wanting to get any more of these types of responses from her, May nodded and stated, "Very well. I will not keep you from your work." But she had every intention of returning. One way or another, she will see Thomas Shelby again.

…

Although she had voted for going to the Christmas Party without any sort of hesitation, Polly had spent the rest of the day drinking, smoking and thinking…barely saying a word to anyone. Linda was getting more and more of her nerves, so she did the sensible thing and ignored her. With so many people flouncing about in her house since the bloody vendetta started, Polly was not in the mood for light conversation. Not even Ada could get her out of this mood.

She would never admit this to Thomas but she was scared. Scared for the safety of her son, scared for herself, for everyone she knew. The New York Mafia was one thing. People like them, corrupted and greedy for money and revenge. But the high-ranking politicians of their country was a whole other thing.

This Christmas Party could be a trap, and the last thing she wanted was for the whole family to attend. She was starting to worry that maybe this was more than Tommy could handle. Maybe he was in too deep this time. Whatever he did to guarantee the family's security and safety, the people up there, next to the King, certainly didn't like it.

Churchill had been the business' biggest supporter since Tommy helped out with the White Movement. Is she beginning to see cracks in that relationship? Whatever the problem was, Polly felt the need to bash someone on the head…figuratively speaking of course. Most preferably Tommy, since she hadn't forgotten how he arranged to have them all imprisoned.

Looking up at the flight of stairs leading to the bedrooms, Polly put out her cigarette and patted the small pocket in her dress, where she held the key to one particular bedroom.

At the top of the stairs, third bedroom on the right was of course, the place where Audrey Changretta had been cowering. Polly put the key into the whole and made her way inside the room, closing the door behind her.

The old woman was on the bed, reading the Bible. Her face scrunched up when she saw who disturbed her reading. Putting her hand on her hip, Polly gestured to the book. "That isn't going to do you any good, you know. I doubt God would offer protection to kidnappers."

"Kidnappers?!" Audrey exclaimed, outraged.

"You may be held here for the time being to make sure that nothing happens to Finn but I swear to you, you won't get off that easy when this whole shit war your son started is finally over." Polly snapped, coldly.

"By the time my son puts a bullet in Tommy Shelby's head, you won't be here no more."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. I've been around for a while now. I've been through shit you can't possibly imagine. I am a born survivor and everyone knows it. Your son can't kill me." Polly explained and got closer to Audrey, whispering in her face, "What you and your lot have done to my family, no others have dared to. And for all that, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure that the name Changretta will cease to exist."

"You can try."

"I intend to."

Polly grabbed a hold of the Bible and snatched it out of her hands. Audrey whimpered, clearly upset, but Polly couldn't give a damn. This woman didn't deserve any kind of comfort. Not as long as her Eyeties had Finn.

"Enjoy your stay." Polly told her before slamming the door shut and locking it behind her.

…

Curses from a future ex-wife of the man she loves, blackmailed by her sadistic half-brother, her mother held hostage…Emilia could no longer keep track of the problems in her life. And the glasses of dark rum she kept gulping down only became numerous. She could get sick. Who would take care of her? Never in her life had she felt so hopeless.

"Do the right thing and your mother will be freed." Luca said to her when he handed her the dagger with which she was supposed to do the deed. The deadline was approaching fast. Christmas was around the corner and as soon as the holidays ended, Luca and his reinforcements would return. She had to tell John the truth by then. She just had to. His brother was a smart man. He could help her fix this.

But would Tommy Shelby even consider working with a Changretta now? Emilia felt the tears of desperation trickling down her cheeks. She was the daughter of Vicente Changretta and nothing would change that. Italian blood coursed through her veins. She was a smart girl. She might be able to help if they accepted her. But they never would.

Luca was planning to get rid of her and her mother. If she came clean to John, the Peaky Blinders would do it for him. There was no safe way to go about it. It was all a risk.

A knock on the door pulled Emilia out of her thoughts. Trembling, she quickly put away the dagger.

"Come in!" she called out, knowing full well who it was.

As expected, John appeared with his daughter, Katie, by his side. The sight of them together always made Emilia smile. It was a comfort to have them near. She wished John would have brought all his children to see her. They were pure souls. Always making her forget her troubles.

After her pleasantries with Katie, John pulled her quietly in another room, pushing her against the wall and kissing her deeply. When he finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead against hers and whispered against her lips, "There's this Christmas party, Em. I want you to come with. We can have a drink. I can present you to my family."

"Oh John…you know that won't do any good." Emilia murmured and caressed his face. That hopeful smile made her legs wobbly.

"Why not? Don't you wanna come with me?" John asked. Emilia could see Katie peeking from behind the door, even though her father did ask for some privacy.

Cradling her face gently, John was very determined to get her to say yes. "I don't give a fuck what the family says, Em. Don't bloody care what Tommy says. Esme is gone now. She's gone and we can be together. There is nuthin' stopping us now." He had no idea how wrong he was at that moment.

Nevertheless, Emilia leaned into his touch and replied, "I have a feeling you will care, John. One day, you will care. Your family will never accept me. I don't want to hurt you."

Letting out a chuckle, John kissed her lips sweetly and said, "You can't hurt me, darling. A good party is what we all need. We got invitations from the royal family. Did I tell ya that? The party is at Sandringham House, all the way in Norfolk, the house of the Duke and Duchess of York."

Giggling a little like a school girl, Emilia replied, "That is impressive. How did your brother manage to get you all invited?"

"We're the Peaky fuckin' Blinders."

It was moments like these when Emilia forgot about it all. Looking into his eyes, she felt at home. And despite it all, she felt she deserved some happiness in her life. Her mother may not be around but neither was Luca to torment her. Right now, she could make her own choices. Which is what determined her to say yes.

…

A/N: Thanks for reading guys. Leave a review, and let me know what you think happens next ;)