Close Your Eyes // Tommy Shelby Fanfic

Chapter 13 ~ Allie

My lips still burn from that kiss, my heart racing uncontrollably. I'm totally fucked. This was not supposed to happen, and these are not the feelings I should have right now.

Before I can even comprehend what's going on, I hear a knock on the door.

I take a deep breath, adjusting my dress and trying to look composed despite the heat in my cheeks and the dizziness in my head. "Come in," I call, my voice higher than intended.

Francis peeks in, visibly nervous. "Mr. Shelby wants you to get ready. You're going to a work dinner in a few hours," she informs me, keeping her tone low.

Panic floods my chest, and I open my mouth to argue, but she purses her lips and gives me an understanding look. "Miss Allie, he said you have no choice. It's part of the agreement," she adds.

I simply nod, waiting for her to disappear so I can have another breakdown.

He's so, so arrogant. Who does he think he is, pushing me around like a toy? My anger returns, and I refuse to be treated like this. This game can be played by two.

I'm not going to be a victim.

Getting up from my bed, I take another deep breath, wiping away my angry tears and striding towards the closet. I didn't pack many evening dresses, but I have a few. I pull out a stunning satin red dress with a high slit and matching red gloves, pairing it with black heels.

I pin my hair up, letting a few strands fall loose, and apply bold makeup. I nod at my reflection in the mirror, a determined smile creeping across my face.

He wants to play? Let's play.

I walk downstairs confidently, scanning the room for him, but he's nowhere in sight. Spotting a couple of maids cleaning, I stride towards them.

"Where is he?" I snap, barely keeping my frustration in check.

"Right here," his voice cuts through the air, freezing me in place. I hesitate but turn around anyway, meeting his cold, surprised gaze.

He's wearing a black suit that fits him perfectly, and my mind drifts back to that kiss-his hot breath and gentle touch. Damn it.

"What are you wearing?" he asks, his eyes roaming over me, lips slightly apart.

I raise an eyebrow. "A dress," I reply nonchalantly.

He smiles, a slow, calculated grin. "I see," he murmurs, stepping closer and touching the fabric on my shoulder.

I take a step back, giving him an uninterested look. "Something wrong?" I ask smugly.

"This is a work dinner, Alison," he mutters, his tone disapproving.

"So?" I challenge.

"I need to be able to focus on work, love," he whispers smugly, emphasizing "love" in a way that sends a shiver down my spine.

I turn away, hiding my blush and clearing my throat. "Well, that doesn't sound like my problem," I retort, making my way towards the door.

I hear him speed up behind me, matching my stride.

"But it is your problem now," he mumbles, and I shoot him a confused look.

He doesn't say anything, just smiles and gets into the car, not bothering to open the door for me. I climb in after him, my mind racing with questions and irritation.

As the city lights blur past us, I steal a glance at him. His jaw is set, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Why did you hire me?" I ask that same question again, breaking the silence.