the red room • alfie solomons

three

"So, Mr. Solomons." Elsie exhaled, slowly waving her wine glass around in a soft circle. "Does he have like a magic dick or something beca-"

"Elsie! No!" The girl whisper-screamed back. "What makes you think we would do anything like that?" Elsie gave her a confused look in return. "Honey, you do realize you're a burlesque dancer, right? You dance. Usually in lingerie. I have literally seen you take off your lingerie as well. In front of about thirty men."

"Look, I never said I was the Virgin Mary. I just- don't want to fuck my boss. He has enemies. They could probably kill me."

The blonde nodded slowly. "You didn't seem so sure about your decision not to fuck your boss tonight, that's all I'm saying. Because from my point of view, you looked like you wanted to screw his brains out." Elsie stated matter-of-factly, sinking her teeth into another chocolate.

"That's true." She replied, giggling slightly before taking another sip of the bitter wine. Americans always liked sweet alcohol, but Elsie did not fit that stereotype. "I don't know if he does though. I tried to get him to watch the finale because, I mean you know the finale, it's certainly a way to end the night. But he waited outside! It was such a shame. I made sure he got a bit hot and bothered during the show, but I'm pretty sure he was just thinking with his cock."

"All men think with their cocks, Y/N. Weird he didn't watch the finale..." She trailed off, looking at the ground for a moment before snapping her head up as if she remembered something. "Shit! Forgot to tell you! The guy who's always with Mr. Solomons, Ollie, stopped by this morning. Said there might be some protection around the area of our building. Something about the Italians."

Elsie was sweet as anything, but what the girl obtained in looks she lacked in memory. "Jesus, Elsie! This is exactly why I shouldn't get involved with him. The last thing I want is for the Italians to show up at my door wanting to use me as a pawn."

"You need to make up your damn mind. You're with him and you give him constant heart eyes, but when you leave him you start thinking all cynically believing a quick fling will end in death. You already work for him, and you haven't died yet. You don't have to marry the man."

She rolled her eyes, listening to her friend speaking the truth. She found Alfie very attractive. She was just anxious and attempting to come up with reasons to not pursue him because she didn't want to end up hurt. She wished she just wanted a quick fuck and duck but she wanted something more. But whenever she was with him she just hyper-focused on him, like all of a sudden all logic went out the window, and apparently, so did her will to live.

"I better get back to my apartment, my bed is calling my name." She said, starting to head to the door.

"Bye then. But seriously, stop worrying so much." Elsie advised, opening the door for her slightly drunk friend. The only reply Elsie got was a mumbled "I won't make promises I can't keep." before her friend was out the door and into her apartment, just three doors down.

The next morning, the phone rang rather obnoxiously, waking the girl up from the sweet release of slumber. She lazily leaned over the telephone, attempting to sound awake enough to be a functioning human. "Hello?" Her voice was raspy, but she didn't mind all that much. It was what someone gets for calling at nine in the morning after a long night.

"Come to the bakery. Now." An angry Alfie Solomons demanded on the other end. She could feel her insides deflate at the thought of leaving her bed. "Can it wait until later? I'm tired."

"No. If ya not fucking here in fifteen minutes I'll be well pissed, yeah?" It was the only reply she received before the line went dead.

She just moaned into her pillow for a moment, soon reluctantly throwing on a dress and combing her hair before she rushed out the door, with a cigarette clenched firmly between her lips. What could she say, it was a breakfast of champions.

When she walked into the bakery, she was met with Alfie's face, looking just as frustrated as he sounded on the phone only twenty minutes before.

"You're late." He muttered, staring her dead in the eyes.

"Well I hate to tell you but the bakery is a ten-minute walk."

"Look, the Italians raided the Red Room last night. It wasn't Sabini." He stated, resting his hands on his desk. He saw her face adorn an expression of pure confusion.

"What other Italian is there?" She asked, confused as to why any other Italian would break into the club.

"Luca Changretta. He's a douchebag from New York." He sighed, pausing before explaining himself. "I was supposed to meet him an hour ago, but there was a plan to ambush him. Allow Tommy fucking Shelby to kill him but Luca knew. Something about Polly Shelby betraying Tommy to save her son. Basically, the Shelby's fucked me over and now he's after my fucking business."

She ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to comprehend the events that unfolded over the past twelve hours. "What does this mean for me?" She inquired, truly not knowing how this would affect her business. Did this guy want the Red Room? Or did he only want the alcohol business? Maybe the territory.

"He wants it all. Red Room, bakery, alcohol, power. He wants me begging on my knees for my fucking life. However, he knows I am the key to Thomas Shelby. Doesn't want me dead. Yet." He spoke, handing her a gun. "I have men guarding the girl's apartments as well as the Red Room. I know you're the only one of the girls who isn't armed at all times. This one should be small enough to carry 'round."

"Well, fuck." She breathed, holding the gun in her hand. She always kept a rifle in her home, but never felt the need to carry one around. Guess she always thought no one would fuck with her. She worked for a gang, so she was well-feared, but she never mattered enough to become a target.

"Hey, next time some cunt comes 'round offering rides home you'll have this to threaten him with." He winked at you, before telling you to bugger off, leaving you to smile to yourself on your walk home, knowing deep down he cared.