❝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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AMARA WOULD NOT talk to Tommy. No matter how many flowers he sent to her office and when he set meetings, she didn't show. For weeks, she went on like this ━ denying its very existence. And, Tommy tried with his every being, he tried extremely to get her attention without actually showing up. Strange since the betting shop was just over the canal, a few minutes walk away, yet he begged for forgiveness in ways that only required a form to sign and a package at her doorstep. Everything other than showing up. Even now, he was not apologising in person, he was merely asking Evan to do the hard work while he stayed away.
The usual for him. Maybe Polly was wrong, maybe what Polly complained about over a hot cup of tea and a plate of fresh pastries from the bakery. The man from before died in the trenches of France and Tommy now was different. To Amara, he was the same, doing everything in his power to keep what they had a secret. To keep her a secret.
The son of a bitch. She often cursed from her office as she waved every bouquet back to Watery Lane.
But even if he were here, apologising. Amara wouldn't forgive him. He lied to her, he betrayed her trust and he refused to wait while she'd waited four years for him to return. Amara spent nights sitting by the window of her bedroom with a candlelight, wishing on the stars that he'd return but her wishes came true. Tommy did return. But he returned a dead man walking, the man she loved was dead ━ the warm, sarcastic Tommy. The Tommy that was gentle to anyone with kind eyes. The Tommy that gave her a flower from the first of February. The Tommy who'd buy her gifts when she never asked. That Tommy was lost and now the only love he had was for feeding his ambition.
It was all for the better.
Good, she thought. She didn't have to feel the guilt of knowing something that could jeopardise the meticulous plans he had in his mind, plans that no one knew but him and when necessary he revealed in little white lies. It was something they both had in common, the hiding of what was real. For him, it had been the conspiracies and for her ━ her past and her blood.
Her past. It was so bloody and grim that she had stayed awake all night━ tossing and turning━ wondering if Campbell would decide to just sell her out for a more personal gain. A question that repeatedly, circulated throughout her brain, causing nightly shivers and daily trembles.
My love or My life?
She could not get close to the Shelby's, a betrayal from a distance was better than being stabbed in the back by the knife they had given her. Still, distance didn't stop the pain in her chest━ in her heart ━ in her being. It didn't stop the fear of being given to her uncle like some auction piece only to be beaten, touched and killed most brutally. And, Amara shouldn't complain. She had signed her death warrant years ago the day she chose to run away, she chose the live in underground hallways and official in only small towns and rural areas of the city.
