An adventurous assassin gets called to Small Heath to kill Thomas Shelby. She soon learns just how much the decision to accept this mission changes her. Thomas Shelby stirs long unfelt feelings, and she struggles to decide the fate of her future.
The Wilson family were on vacation in the Carribeans for the next three months. Three hundred pounds had allowed her lodging in their manor. The house was completely empty, save for the stable hands who cared for the horses. She had paid them to pull back the canvases, covering the various furniture pieces, which had been roped down on the first floor, and to leave their duties for the day.
A couple weeks after the Cheltenham races, Thomas Shelby had called and scheduled a meeting to see a couple of her best horses. Ann spent two days walking through the Wilson house, taking down any paintings with the real Celia Wilson - a beautiful young lady of Chinese descent from her mother's side, and European descent from her father's.
Ann also learned what and where all the rooms were, and all the names of the horses and their obvious personality patterns. If she didn't know her true identity, she'd believed she'd grown up in the Wilson household.
It was this that found her opening the heavy front door when she heard the engine of a car rumbling in the drive way. Thomas turned off his car and stepped out, smoke streaming from the cigarette between his lips. He put his hand in the pocket of his suit jacket, an attire she'd never seen him without.
"Mr Shelby." Ann said. "I hope you found the directions alright."
"Aye." Thomas said and took his cigarette out of his mouth.
"We should get straight to business then." Ann said, gesturing with her head to the left of the house. "The stables aren't far."
She led him to the side of the house to the thin cobblestone path that led to the back acres of land surrounding the manor. The stables stood in the distance.
"How's your date?" Ann asked, watching the tail of her trousers fly as she walked. "The pretty woman with the blonde hair from the races."
"Grace." Thomas answered. "She's well. She said she spoke with you shortly before you left Mr Kimber's manor."
"When the host tried to force himself on his guest, it put a damper on the afternoon. Don't you think?" Ann asked. Thomas nodded and took his cigarette, now burned to a nub, out of his mouth and threw it onto the ground.
Fifteen minutes later, Ann stood outside the paddock gate watching Thomas brush the mane of a large, heavy footed horse with his fingers. He had meticulously studied every single horse in the stable, and then chose Cherish. The stable hands had said she was a little aggressive around strangers. Ann had warned Thomas, but he stuck to his decision, which proved to be safe, as Cherish quickly accepted his presence and easily submitted to saddling.
"Are you ready girl?" Thomas asked, gently rubbing Cherish's muzzle. She stamped the ground in agreement. Thomas then swung onto the saddle with a practised air that suggested he'd been on horseback for years. Once there, he looked like a king underneath the late afternoon sun.
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He looked at her, his careful poise held, but Ann saw a glint of a high ego in his eyes.
She smiled and shook her head. "Don't look so smug."
