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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: sweet hibiscus tea - penelope scott
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In the midst of the cacophony that was Birmingham's bustling streets, Marianna James moved with a firm stride, her thoughts swirling like a tempest around her. The air was thick with the scent of coal and sweat, mingling with the raucous shouts and clatter of horse-drawn gaits.
Her senses were keenly attuned to the rhythm of the city, each step a beat in the symphony of urban vivacity. But amidst the chaos, Marianna remained a beacon of calm grit, her gaze piercing through the fog of smoke and grime that cloaked the streets like a shroud.
Men, their faces obscured by the veil of anonymity, watched her from the periphery, their intentions veiled in mystery. Marianna remained alert, her senses attuned to the slightest hint of danger. She could feel their presence like a weight upon her shoulders, their silent footsteps echoing in the dark alleyways that she traversed with practiced ease.
Whether they were mere observers or mediators of a shadier schema, she couldn't say, but she remained unfazed by their presence. For she was a woman of action, her resolve unshakable. As long as they kept their distance and refrained from interfering with her affairs, she cared little for their stealthy shadowing.
Mar's footsteps echoed on the cobblestone streets as she made her way to the betting shop, Tommy had crossed paths with the Romanovs, and Mar needed to glean whatever information she could from him. She needed to understand the depths of their influence, the extent of their power, and just how dangerous they truly were. And Tommy, with his, was her best chance at uncovering the truth.
But discretion was paramount. Mar couldn't afford to draw attention to herself or her intentions. She knew she had to tread carefully if she hoped to uncover the answers she sought.
With every step, Mar steeled herself for the encounter ahead, knowing that the information she sought could mean the difference between life and death in this dangerous game of cat and mouse.
She navigated the bustling streets, lost in her thoughts, until she collided with a man who paid her little heed, continuing on his way without a second glance.
"Fuck." Cursing under her breath, she stooped to retrieve her fallen bag, only to discover a small card nestled among the debris.
As her fingers closed around the card, a chill crept down Marianna's spine, her heart hammering in her chest as she read the ominous message scrawled upon it.
