A girl is loved.

Caterina
________

"Who the fuck is knocking at this bloody hour?"

Alfie's voice shattered through the night, making me wince. His hard eyes landed on mine.

"Please not so loud, Alfie."

Even in my drunken state, I don't think I could ever process the amount of fear and anger that swept through his face as he noticed me.

I gingerly rubbed circles at my temples.

"You're drunk Caterina, aren't you? What the fuck happened to you, you're all cut up."

Alfie didn't waste any time pulling me into the warm house, which smelled of tea and spices. He gently plopped me down in one of the kitchen chairs, and ran a large hand through my hair. His touch sent shivers down my spine. Oh how I missed those fingers.

His deep blue eyes- so different from Thomas's- were large with alarm. Alfie cupped my face between his other hand and examined me, which I probably looked as bad as I felt.

Hot breath fanned my face, "what happened, love. Tell me, please."

My heart ached for him, at how broken he looked kneeling there in front of me in the middle of the night. I had a feeling Alfie would always put me first if only I gave him a chance.

I placed my hand over his and leaned into his touch. "A fight broke out in Sabini's club, you were right all along Alfred. I'm sorry." I whispered, tears ran down my cheeks.

I was so terribly sorry for putting him through this.

He ran his thumbs over my cheeks and placed a quick kiss to my lips.

"Don't apologize, we both said things we didn't mean." He murmured into my mouth. He pulled away slightly.

"Who caused the fight?"

I looked down at my other hand which enclosed Thomas's card. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to tell Alfie in his state, I had no doubts in my mind he'd hurt them. Kill them even, for me.

"Sabini's men started it, and the Peaky Blinders finished it." I said at last, "they helped me get home safely."

I added the last part to help soften the blow, maybe even paint them as heroes. Alfie's eyes didn't reveal much, though.

"They fought Sabini's men?" Alfie mused, standing up.

My eyes followed his every move to the kitchen sink, where he picked up a tea towel and ran it under the running water. I mentally traced the lines of his bare back under the light.

"You sure they didn't hurt you?" He pressed, wringing out the cloth.

I shook my head, "no."

He crossed the floor towards me again, rag in hand. His eyes didn't meet mine as he gently ran it over my face.

"Because your face says otherwise," he whispered.

When he showed me the tea towel, my mouth dropped at the sight of my blood staining the fabric. I raked my brain for answers.

Then I remembered.

"Someone broke the candle at our table and it shattered everywhere," I swallowed, "it must've cut me when I was in shock."

Alfie grunted but didn't press it any further, he must've noticed how exhausted I was. Even as I sat.

He balled the towel into the sink and hoisted me into his arms like a child. I didn't have the energy to yelp as he carried me up the stairs and into his room.

Alfie laid me down onto the edge of the quit as if he held onto a baby, and started to remove the coat I was given. I watched him silently through the dark, with the only light being the moon from outside his open window.

"Who's coat?" He said dryly, throwing it onto the floor.

I considered lying, but when his woeful eyes met mine in the dark, I couldn't.

"Thomas Shelby let me wear it since it was cold out."

He only nodded, and reached for the thin straps of my dress- which were now freckled in blood and frayed- and began pulling them down. Everywhere his fingers grazed, he left a trail of warmth on my bare skin.

"Such a lovely dress, this was," he murmured, bunching up the fabric at my waist.

My breasts tightened from the exposure, and his eyes met mine. There was only sorrow on that beautiful face of his, and my heart lurched. I reached my fingers to his, gently caressing his hand.

"Yes it was," I agreed, running my eyes over his bare chest. Gazing affectionately at his hard muscles from the work he endured everyday of his life.

I didn't dare drop my gaze to the low hanging undergarments Alfie no doubt threw on to open the door.

His eyes were hooded as he continued to pull the dress down and off my body, letting it slide onto the floor. Soft lips grazed over my thighs as he knelt to remove my heels, setting fire to my core.

I pressed my knees together to keep from shaking, but rough hands pried them apart regardless. Alfie wrapped his arms around my thighs and pulled me to him in one swift movement. A yelp escaped my lips.

The sight of him between my legs almost sent me reeling over the edge, as he pressed warm kisses against my inner thighs. I whimpered.

"Do you ever plan to set foot in that club again?" Alfie asked, his eyes dark.

I shook my head, and his smile grew.

"Good."

Without warning, Alfie slid a finger inside me, then another, and another. I bit back my moan as he pumped agonizingly slow. My hips bucked in protest but he held his other hand firmly on my stomach.

I begged and begged until his full lips were now on me, feasting. The combination of those fingers and his skillful tongue inside me eliminated the name Thomas Shelby from my memory entirely. My back arched against the soft quilt and I cried out, no doubt echoing his name through the open window.

A low chuckle vibrated through his mouth and it sent me far, far away from my body. I gasped for air as my muscles relaxed against him, and I suddenly found it difficult to keep my eyes open at all.

Through hooded eyes I watched Alfie get up and suck his fingers clean, gazing down at me as he did so. I pulled my lip between my teeth in response, and turned on my side. Alfie grinned back, and swept his shirt off the floor, tossing it at me.

"Put it on," he growled.

I didn't complain as I pulled the shirt over my head, inhaling his scent of wood and liquor. The hem of it reached my mid thigh as I climbed under the quilt and rested my head.

The mattress groaned under Alfie's weight as he climbed in beside me, pulling me into his chest. I gladly allowed myself to rest against him, shutting my eyes. I don't think I've ever felt so at ease with anybody else as I nuzzled tighter against him. Letting the heat from his body consume me.

A light kiss pressed into my hair, followed by a deep sigh. As I slowly felt myself drift off further into sleep, I felt him relax for the first time today.

Darkness finally swept me under as those soft words echoed throughout the room.

"I love you."

⚜️

It was midday whenever the sunlight slowly swept through the room, its rays warming my face. I scrunched my nose in protest, and slowly stretched out across the bed, my toes and fingers curling.

I managed to pry one eye open, and then the other, as I scanned over the room. A frown etched across my face at the lack of him.

The room was empty.

I propped myself up on my elbows and called out, "Alfie?"

No answer.

I looked to my left, and saw that the window was still open, letting a soft breeze trickle through the room. I brought my hands to my eyes, and tried to rub the sleep from my face. Ignoring the light pulse of a headache already forming.

A sigh escaped my lips as I threw my legs over the edge of the bed, and groggily got to my feet. Alfie's shirt un-scrunched itself from my waist as I padded over to the bathroom, leaning my weight against the sink.

My head bobbed between my shoulders before I dared a look into the mirror. I almost didn't recognize myself.

There were multiple cuts scattered across my face, no doubt from the shards of glass that flew last night. My fingers ran over the deep purple underneath my brown eyes, and I knew they've seen better days. I let my hands drop to cup the running water, and splashed it against my tired face.

Cold water bit at my senses, leaving me awake and gasping as streams dripped onto me and the floor. I felt around for a towel and planted my face into it, groaning loudly.

Today was going to be a long day.

⚜️

The house was silent as I padded down the staircase, trailing a slender finger down the rail. My eyes darted out into the living area, but it remained empty. I furrowed my brows.

Where could he have gone?

My bare feet had barely touched the first floor whenever a loud crash, followed by an even louder cursing, caused me to nearly jump out of my skin.

Alfie's voice boomed from the kitchen, "Bloody hell!"

Heart racing, I ran in after him to see if he was hurt, if he was-

Cooking?

Alfie had one hand wrapped in a towel at his chest, with a broken plate at his feet. In the sink there was a smoking pan, literally smoking, and poor Alfie had the window open trying to let the fumes out.

I tried and failed to contain my laughter as his frantic eyes met mine from across the kitchen.

"Oh Alfie," I laughed, pressing a hand to my mouth, "what on earth are you doing?"

Alfie looked at me, to the plate at his feet, and then to the smoking pan in the sink. He stuttered a bit before composing himself. I don't think I've ever seen him so flustered before.

"Right, yeah," he started, pulling at his beard, "I- I thought maybe you'd want an American breakfast to help with your, you know, hangover and so I started to cook some of that bacon but then it caught fire and everything went to shit after that, yeah."

I shook my head, "you wanted to cook me bacon? Of all the things Alfie, this has got to be my favorite thing you've done, you know you can't eat pork."

He cracked a nervous smile and I crossed the floor to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I planted a soft kiss against his lips, and pulled back to see his eyes so... vulnerable.

I ran a thumb over his beard before my eyes caught the hand wrapped in a towel. His eyes followed mine and he quickly tried to pull away, but I already laid a firm hand around his wrist.

My fingers gripped the towel to reveal a nasty burn where his thumb met his index finger and I bit back a gasp.

"It's nothing, love, really." Alfie started, but I shushed him immediately.

I gave him an incredulous look, "nothing my ass, Alfie. Go run your hand under cold water while I clean up your mess."

Alfie opened his mouth to protest but I put a finger to his lips, "no buts," I said, "go. Now."

Reluctantly he obeyed, and up the stairs he went. I shook my head after him, tugging my lip between my teeth. I swear, I don't know what that man would do without me watching after him. I almost forgot Alfie was a gangster altogether, almost.

Well, at least I sobered up by the time I picked up the broken pieces of the plate and wiped down the pan. When Alfie returned, he came up behind me and wrapped his thick arms around me, pressing a kiss to my temple.

"Tea?" He offered.

I wiped the sweat from my brow, "yes, please."

⚜️

It was nearing sundown by the time I left Alfred's house with my bag in hand. Despite his many protests for me to stay a few days more, I knew I had to get back to Birmingham.

And ring up Thomas Shelby once and for all.

But in order to do that, I had to pay a visit to another good friend of mine here in London. Whom I had plenty of questions for ever since my run in with the Peaky Blinders.

She lived in a small apartment, with her two year old son, Karl, and I've grown rather fond of them over the past year. I first met Ada when I worked as a secretary before my artwork was able to sustain me financially, and we've been friends ever since.

On the second knock, the dark wooden door to her apartment swung open, to reveal a very flustered looking woman. Her face warmed the second she laid her eyes on me, and I smiled back.

"Caterina, what a lovely surprise!" Ada pulled me into an embrace, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I know, I should've called," I said into her hair, pulling away.

Ada clicked her tongue, "nonsense. I needed to pick up Karl anyway, did you want to come?"

We plopped ourselves down onto the small sofa of her living area, and I set my bag down before replying, "I'd love to, Ada. I just have a small favor to ask of you first."

I eyed her carefully, but Ada only nodded nonchalantly.

"Of course, what is it?" She asked.

"May I use your telephone?"

Ada rolled her pretty blue eyes, sighing in relief. "I thought you were gonna ask for a place to stay or something, Rina."

I only chuckled, and made my way to the corner of the room to where the telephone sat, perched on a small stool. Ada called out after me as I pulled out Thomas's business card, and began dialing the number.

"Speaking of which," Ada pried, "how's everything with that mystery man you've been seeing, eh?"

The line on the other end began dialing when I answered back, "fine." Not really wanting to discuss Alfred, especially after last nights events.

I had almost given up altogether whenever a brisk, female voice answered the line.

"Shelby Company Limited, Charlotte speaking."

My hands moved to cup the phone away from Ada's point of hearing.

"Yes, may I speak to Thomas Shelby?" I whispered quietly.

The woman, Charlotte, paused a moment before speaking again, "may I ask who's calling."

"Tell him it's me, Caterina Price."

Another pause.

"Alright, let me transfer you over." Charlotte said, her voice followed by a click.

I waited until a familiar voice sounded through the phone.

"Ms. Price, it's about time you called. You had me thinking you'd forgotten our trade."

My lips twitched slightly, "of course not Mr. Shelby. Your coat has been well taken care of, I promise."

A chuckle, "good." Thomas added, "and my offer?"

I pursed my lips together, purposely taking my time to answer. Thomas seemed to notice my ploy, because there was a low growl on the other end of the line.

"C'mon, don't drag me along just spit it out already."

Finally I replied, "I accept your offer Mr. Shelby, but I will warn you, I am very expensive."

"If you're as good as you say you are," he said, "then you're worth every pound."

I couldn't help the grin on my lips, and I wondered if he was smiling, too.

"Alright, well, can you come by my office tonight?"

I looked behind me at Ada, who was busy drinking her tea and checked my watch. There was a train coming in an hour, but I could make it if I hurried. I nodded.

"Yes, I could be there in a few hours. Unless you mind me coming by too late?"

"No, no," he assured me, "I'll be working late anyway." A pause, "I look forward to our fresh start, and doing business with you, of course."

I smirked into the phone, "a pleasure doing business with you too, Mr. Shelby. Good bye."

"For now," he reminded, and hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" Ada called, bringing me back to earth. "You were smiling like an idiot."

I set the phone down and faced her, my lips in a straight line. I had to confront her one way or another, whether I liked it or not. After all, Ada was my friend.

She held out a cup of tea for me, which I gladly accepted, and took a seat beside her again.

"If you must know," I said carefully, "I was speaking with Thomas Shelby."

Ada's face palled.

"Shelby," she croaked, "why were you talking to a Shelby? I thought you hated gangsters."

I set my tea down and placed a hand on her knee, meeting her wide eyes.

"Because he offered to pay me to paint his pub, and I said yes." I said, "I also ran into them at the Eden Club."

Ada swallowed.

"I know I shouldn't pry, but I kind of pieced it all together last night, and I know that they're your brothers."

Her eyes grew dark, "I don't have any brothers." She snapped.

I squeezed her knee, "believe me, you know about my brothers too, and I know exactly how you feel. I just wanted to let you know that your secret is safe with me."

Ada's gaze softened as she too, remembered our similar beginnings, and nodded.

"Thank you."

I reached out for my tea cup and held it up to hers.

"To our terrible, gangster brothers. We can't live with them, and we can't live without them."

Ada clinked her cup with mine, "amen."

We followed with a long sip of tea, knowing very well we each wished it were liquor instead of herbs.

⚜️

It was late by the time I arrived to Birmingham, and even later when I reached the Shelby office.

I tried to ignore the gloomy feel of the area as I climbed the stairs to the main doors of the building, and knocked once.

"Come in." Thomas called from somewhere deep within the room.

I shrugged, and pushed my way inside, removing my cap and scarf. My eyes darted across the area, impressed by the grand wooden desks on either side, and another barely visible through a door. There were papers spewed about, and I couldn't help but trail a finger across the typewriter that sat proudly on top the mess. No secretary in sight.

I called out, "Thomas, where are you?"

The office wasn't nearly that big, after all.

There was a shuffle and the sound of drawers slamming shut before he said, "I'm in my private room."

Ah, indeed the even smaller room across from me was held ajar, and I could make out the shape of him through the frosted door window. I took that as my cue to set my bag down by the door along with my coat, not forgetting to grab his too, of course.

I gently stepped inside, noting that it was drastically colder in here than out there. It sent a light shiver down my spine as I settled my gaze on Thomas, who leaned nonchalantly against his grand desk.

"How was the train ride," he asked, holding out a glass of liquor.

I eyed his hand nervously and said, "it was all right."

"Don't worry Ms. Price, one glass isn't going to make you drunk like last night."

I gulped, last night felt far, far away in time for me, but I snatched the glass anyway. Thomas chuckled.

"So," he pushed off from the desk, "I was thinking to paint the pub gold on the inside. Thoughts from the artist?"

Thomas lingered closer now, with his own glass of liquor in hand. I wonder how many he's downed already.

I straightened, and took a sip from my drink before replying, "gold is fine, as long as it's not too much of it. Otherwise it'd blind the guests."

That same smile formed on his beautiful features, and I found myself shrinking further into the room, until my back hit the wall. I cursed under my breath, but Thomas kept coming closer, and closer, until his body grazed mine.

Why was it that I always put myself in these damned situations? It was hard enough to resist him from a female standpoint, but there was something so alluring about that tragic smile, and those icy blue eyes. If I ever had the chance to paint him, I had a feeling he'd be just as mysterious as the mona lisa.

"I trust you will find a balance, Ms. Price," Thomas breathed, placing a hand on the wall beside my head while the other twisted his drink in hand.

I nodded curtly, "your trust is not misplaced, Mr. Shelby."

"I like to hear that."

His words hung in the shared air between us, and again he leaned in, closer this time, until our noses brushed. I swallowed thickly.

My chest moved in rapid movements until he brought his lips to mine, gently grazing them across. His eyes were already on mine when I met his dark stare, and I found myself gripping onto the wall to keep from sliding down.

"You know," Thomas murmured, "I've had this urge to kiss you for a while now, ever since I first saw you in that club."

Again, he grazed his lips against mine, and I had to fight every urge to lean into him.

He continued, "I never told you how good you looked in that silky little dress of yours."

My voice came out in a rasp, "you didn't have to, your eyes said it all."

A spark flashed within his gaze, and his lips twitched upwards.

"I suppose so," he said, "but I don't know if I should."

My eyebrows knit together, "why not?"

I hadn't realized my demeanor turned offensive until his hand moved from to wall to cup my chin, easing my tight shoulders.

"I wouldn't want to start something I can't finish."

I raised my brow, "who said anything about finishing?"

His blue eyes danced underneath the soft yellow glow of the room, and leaned in.

I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for his lips to finally touch mine, but instead his lips grazed the shell of my ear. I bit back my frown.

"I'll see you in the morning ready to work, Ms. Price. We'll talk more then."

Thomas then released me from his hold, leaving me blinking incoherently against the wall. I struggled to compose myself and squared my shoulders.

I watched after him as he pulled something from the top of his desk and held it out to me.

It was my cream handkerchief, still stained of his blood.

"Keep it," I said, "I have a feeling you'll need it more than I will."

Thomas nodded, and placed it back into the pocket of his trousers. I already had one foot out of the door when he called after me.

"Good night, Caterina," he said.

I tightened my grip around my purse, "night Mr. Shelby."

I slammed the door on my way out, not bothering once to glance back. There was nothing good, about tonight, absolutely nothing. Especially not when I realized I wanted Thomas Shelby, in more ways than one.

________
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