❝If you want me. EARN ME!❞
❝Alright. I'll earn you, I'll do it.❞
in which amara singh, a former employee to the shelby's is ready to move on with her life beyond their gang empire and open her own business. if only thomas shelby was ready to let her...
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1912, LONDON
SHE WALKED the streets of London like she owned them. It was the way her heels clicked on the pavement and her body swayed against the mild winds that were not uncommon on the streets of London, for a mere woman to be walking in the streets alone in the neighbourhood of screaming gunshots, shattered windows and stabbings that always led to a trail of dead bodies along every pathway of Greenwich. But, amongst dangerous men hiding among alleyways, the likes of gangsters, hiding their guns in between the cracks of stone and terrified last screams. There was something much scarier to even the toughest of Sabini's men and that was the occupation of fixer, especially if that fixer was Amara Singh.
Amara heard the laughs between the members of the aristocracy, she would hardly call gentleman, eye-rolling as she turned towards them at the constant callings of Miss Singh. They both had fair skin, doe-eyed and their suits were tighter than their ties. They held their hollow hats in their fists, waving to catch her attention. One had dark, raven hair and the other was strawberry blonde. Both had blue eyes and were at least ten years younger. Still, an older woman with extraordinary beauty, riches and just recently, no prospects for a husband. They would shoot their shot, no matter how far away the target is.
"Still destroying lives for the PM," the dark-haired one said.
"Or, avoiding that former fiancee of yours." the other said.
"You both know," Amara told them, taking a dramatic pause. "I do not do marriage, kids, or anything normal." her eyes peered towards them, distaste in her tone. "━or younger."
They both frowned at her and she spun on her heel, a smirk on her lips while walking down a dark alleyway. One she had taken many times, a shortcut that Amara easily used to avoid the crowds and painful elbowing of the customers dying to get their hands on the newest meat, spices, jewellery and whatever the newest mania━inducing product was. She'd taken it so many times that it became second nature. The dark alleyway of stick-like metal, thin and colliding against one another blocking any ray of sunlight from creeping in, the stone walls became darker and darker as you stepped in. It was the perfect killing site. Yet, Amara Singh's second nature was to walk into that dark alleyway without thinking about the kind of person standing on the other side. But, she'd never had a bad experience...
"Amara Singh?" a voice asked, female and Brummie.
Amara gave a glance to the woman who spoke. She shrouded in her shadows like she had spent her whole life in the dark as if she knew the darkness more than the light. Her brown eyes carried a dark glint that was frightening and calculating. This was the kind of woman that would have you dead if you got on her bad side. She had an expression that Amara couldn't quite read, it striked at her high cheekbones and chestnut curls that came loose from the band that tied it. But that wasn't what frightened the fixer. It was a gun, horribly hidden between the holster and the black-striped coat. Women could kill. Despite the opinion of gang leaders, high members, solicitors and anyone with a cock. Women could kill and this kind of woman would do it without any hesitation, guilt or doubt. She would kill and not give a single reason why.
