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The streets of London never seemed to die even in the ungodly hours, intoxicated souls fornicating in the darkest nook and cranny of Westminster, while some danced to the reverberating jazz blues coming from the Eden Club. A blonde woman pulled her fur-lined coat closer to her body as the crisp air of September clung to her entire being. She walked with her head held high, not paying any attention to the whistles and unwanted compliments she received from men she passed by, 'I hope your dicks get broken in half' she thought.
Valentina brushed the annoyed feeling off and just secretly admired how her red heels created a clicking sound as they hit the cobblestones with each step, it made her feel powerful. As she neared the club entrance, she fished out a stick of tobacco from her crocodile skin pouchette and let it hang between her tinted lips.
As usual, Valentina skipped ahead of the men in line, a coy smile spreading across her face. A tall man in a peaked hat yelled, "Oi, oi, oi! The fuck's wrong wit ya? Ya fucking blind, eh?" in a gruff voice that contained hints of disbelief.
Valentina raised her eyebrow as she faced them, removing the cigar from her lips, "Fuck off, mate, yeah?" she daringly replied and noticed eventually that the three men in front of her all wore the same peaked hat. The three knobheads looked oddly familiar, she just can't put her fingers on it.
It seemed that it aggravated the tall man even more, he was about to speak again when the man in the middle stopped him. "It's alright, Arthur, calm the fuck down, aye?". He then looked at Valentina with slight contempt yet amusement, "Just go along, will ya?"
She ignored them for the last time and gave the doorman a slight nod before storming into the Eden Club. The woman made her way to the bar counter, flicking off the unlit tobacco somewhere in the crowd before sitting on an available table. The blonde woman ordered a vodka tonic and thought at the same time that she wouldn't let men ruin her perfect evening, from her pocket she took a blue vial that contained tokyo and carefully placed lines on the table before inhaling some of it sharply through her nose.
Valentina groaned as she felt the burning sensation in her nostrils, the rush of excitement traveling through her little neurotransmitters. She hastily grabbed her poison from the server and drank it in one shot. "Another one, Miss Valentina?" she nodded, casually wiping off the excess powder left on her nose.
She inhaled once more and looked up to the dancing crowd, her eyes gazing at each and everyone's faces, Antonio Sabini, Darby's cousin, nod his head at her in acknowledgment, "Fucker," she muttered and flashed a forced smile.
A line formed on her forehead as she noticed that the server gave her an Irish whiskey, which she didn't order, "That ain't mine," Valentina stated, "It's from 'im, Miss," the server replied, his head turning to a certain direction.
Thomas Shelby slightly raised his eyebrow and nodded at her, lifting up his own glass. She gave him a quick nod in return and took a swig of the whiskey. Valentina placed a cigar in the corner of her mouth, her long, thin fingers then searched for a lighter in her pouchette.
She paid no more attention to her own surroundings and began to indulge herself in her own vices. It was getting bad again but she couldn't help it—every bit of pain, physical or emotional, was completely taken away and replaced with what seemed to be genuine happiness.
Valentina is in her happy self-contained universe.
Yet she was quickly pulled away from her own little word as a bottle flew right beside her, hitting a glass lamp within her sight, "Peaky scum!" the man shouted and everything just turned to chaos.
Valentina watched a bloody fight unfold before her eyes like it was some entertainment and the three men from earlier were the stars of it.
"Hmm, peaky scum?" she pondered, she was sure she had heard it somewhere, probably from Darby's bullshit blabbering. Valentina gaped at the sight, they were cutting up Sabini's men using their hats, "Oh yeah fucking right, that's Peaky fucking Blinders," she bobbed her head as if it was some kind of educational discovery, swirling the whiskey before taking a sip.
"What a waste of time, God gave these men two heads, can't even use both right," the woman tutted as she grabbed her belongings and turned her back against the commotion, walking away from the chaotic world of gangsters.
Yet, destiny has its own peculiar ways of bringing people closer. A lady of pleasure is what they brand Valentina, and this is the story of how she has him under her spell...of how she has Thomas Shelby wrapped around her little finger.
