The Sharpest Jewel | Alfie Solomons |

~Chapter 30~

Camden, London, 1922.

Florence sat in the oppressive silence of the room, the ropes biting into her wrists as she strained against them. Her heart raced, thoughts tumbling chaotically in her mind. The darkness felt all-consuming, and the air was thick with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Alfie Solomons had left her alone, but she could still feel the weight of his presence lingering in the air.

She looked around the dimly lit room, her eyes trying to adjust to the shadows. The table, cluttered with papers and remnants of the meeting, seemed like a cruel reminder of the world she had been thrust back into. The sounds of muffled voices echoed from somewhere beyond the walls, the distant clinking of glasses and laughter of men enjoying their night. It felt surreal, like she was watching a scene play out from behind glass, trapped in a life that wasn't hers anymore.

Hours passed slowly, each tick of time stretching into eternity. Florence leaned her head back against the cool wall, closing her eyes. Memories flooded her mind—her childhood with Ollie, their laughter echoing through the streets of Camden, the carefree days before the war. She could almost hear his voice teasing her, urging her to come out and play, to forget their troubles. But those days were long gone, swept away by the harsh realities of life.

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, the ropes digging into her skin, and tried to find a more comfortable position. The fatigue began to settle in, her eyelids growing heavy as she fought against it. She couldn't afford to fall asleep, not in this place, not with her life hanging in the balance.

Florence forced herself to focus, mentally mapping out a plan. She needed to find a way to free herself, but the idea felt insurmountable when the ropes felt so tight, and the door remained closed. She strained her ears, hoping to catch the sound of footsteps approaching, but the room remained eerily silent.

Time dragged on, and eventually, the noise from the other room quieted, replaced by the distant hum of the city outside. The only sound was the faint rustle of her clothes as she shifted again, anxiety coiling tighter in her stomach. She could hear her own heartbeat, pounding loudly in the stillness, a stark reminder of her predicament.

A sense of despair began to creep in as the night wore on. What if no one came for her? What if she was forgotten here? Her thoughts spiraled, drawing on all the moments of uncertainty from her past—of feeling alone in a crowd, of being lost in a world that seemed to move on without her.

Just when the darkness began to settle too heavily on her heart, a flicker of determination sparked within her. She had faced challenges before, and she wouldn't let fear consume her now. She had to stay alert, to keep her mind sharp. She wouldn't be a victim.

Florence twisted her wrists again, trying to find some leverage against the ropes. They were coarse against her skin, but she was determined not to give up. If she could just loosen them enough, she might be able to slip free. She focused her energy on the task, gritting her teeth against the discomfort, reminding herself of all the reasons she needed to escape.

With each passing moment, the sounds of the city outside continued, the night deepening around her. She kept working at the ropes, shifting and adjusting until the fibers started to give way slightly. Hope surged in her chest, but she pushed it down, not wanting to set herself up for disappointment.

As dawn began to break, casting pale light through the cracks of the boarded-up windows, Florence felt a renewed sense of urgency. She couldn't waste any more time. She would not allow herself to be a pawn in someone else's game, not when her life hung in the balance.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside her room, and her heart raced anew. She held her breath, the tension mounting as she strained to listen. Would it be Alfie? Or perhaps one of the men who had been at the meeting? She braced herself, adrenaline pumping through her veins. The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. It was a man she didn't recognize, one of Alfie's men, and he looked surprised to see her there, bound and alone.