Criminal Breath | Peaky Blinders x Red Dead Redemption

Chapter 25

And then, in the master bedroom, Tommy found it, the sight that would forever be seared into his soul. His parents, their bodies twisted in silent agony, the crimson stains on the once pristine white sheets a stark reminder of the cost of his absence. The room was still, the only sound the ragged breaths that tore from his chest. His vision swam with fury as he took in the scene, his mind screaming for vengeance.

With trembling hands, he closed their eyes, whispering prayers for their souls. He knew he couldn't save them now, but he could honor them. He could make sure that their deaths meant something, that their legacy didn't die with them in this bloody siege. He took a deep breath, his heart aching as he folded their hands over their chests, placing a single rose between them. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke of love and respect, the very things that had been so cruelly torn from them.

Tommy turned to his brothers, their faces mirrors of his own grief. They knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling. They had all lost too much tonight. "We finish this," he said, his voice hoarse. "We kill every single one of these bastards, we find the gold, we take it back, and we make the King's wife pay as well."

The Blinders moved as a single unit, their rage a living force that propelled them through the mansion. The Italians had thought themselves safe, had thought their treachery would go unpunished. They had been wrong. Tommy's blade flashed in the moonlight that filtered through the windows, a silent promise of death. The sound of breaking glass and splintering wood accompanied each step as they searched the mansion's labyrinthine corridors.

The Italians were no match for the fury that consumed the Peaky Blinders. They fought with a ferocity that could only come from a place of deep loss and betrayal. Tommy's knife sliced through flesh and bone with an ease that spoke of his years of experience and his desperate need for vengeance. Each Italian that fell beneath his blade was a step closer to the woman who had orchestrated this carnage. The mansion was a tomb now, the air thick with the coppery tang of blood and the acrid scent of gunpowder.

Finally, they reached the heart of the mansion, the room where he thought would hold the most of them. But it was empty, save for a single figure standing in the shadows, her eyes gleaming with a cold, calculating malice that sent a shiver down Tommy's spine. The King's wife stepped into the light, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Ah, Mr. Shelby," she said, her voice dripping with sweet poison. "I knew you'd come for me."

Tommy's hand tightened on his knife, his eyes never leaving hers. "Where's the gold?" he demanded, his voice a low growl.

The King's wife's smile never wavered. "The gold? Why, it's long gone," she said, her voice as smooth as silk. "But I do have something for you. Something I believe you'll find quite... enlightening." She snapped her fingers and a figure emerged from the shadows, bound and gagged, a bag over their head.

Tommy's eyes narrowed as the figure was brought closer, the light from the flickering candles revealing a familiar set of hands, a flash of blonde hair. His heart clenched in his chest as the bag was ripped off, revealing Lizzie, one of his own, her eyes wide with terror. "What have you done?" he roared, taking a step forward.

The King's wife tapped her finger against her chin, her smile widening. "Ah, yes, your little spy," she said with a sneer. "It seems she had quite the interesting conversation with my dear friend, the magistrate. It's a shame she won't be sharing your bed tonight... or ever again."

Tommy's rage boiled over, his knuckles white as he gripped his knife. "What have you done to her?"

The King's wife shrugged, feigned innocence playing poorly on her blood-stained gown. "Why, nothing yet," she purred. "But I'm sure she'd love to tell you all about her little rendezvous with the magistrate. It seems she had quite the appetite for information... and power. Such a greedy little thing."

Tommy's eyes never left hers, his anger a living, breathing thing. "Take her down," he barked at his brothers. The room filled with the sound of footsteps and shuffling, the Blinders moving like shadows in the flickering candlelight. Lizzie's muffled cries were like a siren's song to Tommy's fury.

The woman's smile grew colder, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "You see, Mr. Shelby," she began, but her words were cut short by the sound of a door slamming open and the pounding of boots on marble. Dutch's gang had arrived, their faces twisted with anger and betrayal.

"What's the meaning of this?" Dutch roared, his eyes falling on the scene before him.

Tommy's hand didn't waver from the knife now at the King's wife's throat. "We had an understanding, Dutch," he said through gritted teeth. "But it seems your loyalties were never truly with us."

Dutch's eyes darted to Lizzie, then back to Tommy, his expression unreadable. "She was the one who played us all," he said, his voice tight with anger. "She's the reason we're here. The gold, the Italians, the King's family, it's all because of her!"

Tommy's grip on the knife tightened. "She was a pawn, Dutch," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Just like us. We were all played by the same hand but that doesn't change the fact that you're a goddamn traitor. Now...she pays for it."

The room was a tableau of anger and tension, each man's eyes locked on the woman who had brought them to this moment. The King's wife's smile grew thinner, but she didn't flinch. "You think you're so clever," she spat. "But you're just a pack of animals fighting over the scraps of a dying empire."