❝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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
AMARA'S CONDOwas located on the rich side of Birmingham, the side of Birmingham that attracted tourists from all over the place, the rich homes caressed in the short streams of the Birmingham sun. The dirt and slums were replaced with pebbly pathways, growing roses that rose to people's front doors and the steam of smoke made the trees glisten rather than dull. It felt more like a small town, rather than being part of the hellish city of Birmingham. Amara's condo was just on the right, it wasn't as large as her neighbours' though opposite the canals where the steam overrides everything. It was small though the beautiful gardens and stoned pathway, leading to her home made it feel safer.
Amara's walk home was longer than most. Still, she always enjoyed how the overarching steam seemed to fade until she saw piles of grass, mimicking the country and the tall redwood trees surpassing the acres and acres of the country where Amara and her family used to live. Living here was a way of being home, even if she was closer to the dangers, Amara liked to think her parents were watching over her from the hollow trees of the country, even if it seemed prosperous and even if she was intelligent enough to know better. The country felt like a parent, protecting her and giving her hope whenever she was near.
The fixer opened the steel and rusted gate, her burgundy getting trapped under the pikes of the it once she opened it she took five steps and up the three stairs and with an unlock of a key she was home. Turning the lamp on, she slipped off her heels and her jacket, finding herself falling on the sofa barely remembering when she took the steps into the living room. Her gaze reached the chandelier above her ━ crystal and with her reflection on her, at home, she was the person she knew. The girl whose childhood had been rich and whose teenage years had been nothing but poverty and selling her wits to remain as innocent as high society deemed her. All that was left of her were broken bits of a chandelier that was once a glowing crystal.
And Amara wondered if she was still glimmering as bright as her chandelier was.
Amara's gaze turned to her coffee table gazing at a file on it, she found herself reaching for it and when she did, her heart stopped. Another dead girl ━ Indian, medium skinned and this time her face was punched so deep you couldn't see what she looked like before. Amara turned the page to see a girl, she looked just like her it was almost marvelling. What was her uncle doing? Why?
"No," she wept, her sobs becoming uncontrollable and no one to console her. Amara couldn't tell Tommy, now. They'd been in her house, they'd been here and carefully sleek so no one raised a finger. Amara's instinct was to run. It was there again and stronger but something was keeping her here, maybe her business or maybe her love but in one she could have with blackmail, the other was a choice.
