million dollar man. peaky blinders

ᴛʀᴏɪs

꧁꧂

ɪᴛ ʜᴀᴅɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀ sᴜʀᴘʀɪsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴅ sᴘᴇɴᴛʏ ᴍᴀɴʏ ɴɪɢʜᴛs ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ sɪɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪɴɢʏ ᴘᴜʙ.

They were strangers with many, many added benefits, and the moments spent together had been unreal. Yet they knew nothing about each other. She didn't know his last name, his job- he could be married for all she knew but all she cared about were the memorable moments that they spent together.

Their arrangement had favoured them both at first. For Valentine, it stopped her worrying, eased her mind and prevented her suspicions. He couldn't have been a spy- he wouldn't have stuck around for as long. For Michael, the contact alone relieves the stress of being around his newfound family. But the lack of emotional tether in the beginning allowed him to be guiltless when he slipped away in the early morning, shrugging in his shirt as if nothing had happened. But it seemed as if good things were always destined to change, whether food or bad, especially for Valentine and Michael.

The sneaking around had come like second nature. Valentine's house was almost always empty until her mother and father came back, and it was as if Michael had expected it, or done it before.

February had come to a close rather quickly when spent with Michael, and Valentine spent most of her days lounging around. Each morning, she woke up feeling like she hadn't even slept in the first place, and would drift about the day until the evening, avoiding her family as much as possible.

That was until a particularly moody and rainy weekend when she was finally invited to a family meeting. The meetings happened often and yet she hadn't ever attended one more than once a month. When she was younger, she was sure that there was another reason other than just because they wanted her out of the way, but now she knew better.

Valentine found herself sat in the middle of the dining room, arms leaned against the large oak table that stretched from either end. A cloud of smoke had drifted to hang above the room, coming from the cigarettes that were smoked and scattered around it. She pulled out her own, waiting as her father coughed for them to begin.

"I am sure you are all aware by now of the trouble with the Peaky Blinders." Gabriel began talking in french as he always arrogantly did. "It seems like their simple business is moving onto the racetrack. We keep our eyes out, gentlemen. Any funny business and we get them out."

"What have they done?" Valentine asked and her father turned to look at her for the first time since they had arrived into the dining room.

He shook his head, looking a bit flustered as if he hadn't expected anyone to speak up.

Gabriel shook his head, looking flustered at the fact that she had spoken up at such a moment. It was obvious that he hadn't expected it, and Valentine knew it was a reason why he loathed her being there from the start. But either way, she nodded for him to answer.

"They first killed Mr Kimber, our,"

"Your." Valentine interrupted.

"Our dear friend." He said sternly, glaring at his daughters rude interruption. "And I now have heard that he has decided to go to London. And join with Solomon, of all people!"

Gabriel Dubois was getting heated as he shouted his reasoning, spit flying from his mouth like darts. Valentine grimaced, shaking her head in disagreement. The over use of violence was unneeded in her opinion, especially in this case, but she knew they would never listen to her.

"And why am I here then?" She asked, stumping her cigarette in the ash tray and folding her arms across her chest, with a pointed look. "You never seem to acknowledge the fact that I could be of use in the business."

Gabriel's face soften as he looked upon his daughter. It wasn't until now that he had understood fully just how much she had changed. Valentine was no longer the sweet, little child that he would run around the yard with- she had flourished into a stunning and rather fastidious woman. Whether that was a good thing or not, he hadn't decided, but he knew she was as clever as her brother, and he couldn't ignore the fact for any longer.

"That's why your here, my sweet." He said, placing a hand on her cheek lovingly. "You'll be with me and your brother when we go to buy our next horse."

She looked over to Lucas with crunched eyebrows, but nodded in confirmation anyway. He had already been told of this, which irked her slightly. She shook the feeling away, forcing herself to be thankful for the opportunity that any other day, wouldn't have even been offered.

"And what am I supposed to do, papa?" She asked.

"I'll tell you on the day Valentine." He paused, taking his hand from her cheek and placing it in his vest pocket to draw out a handful of gold coins.
"Buy yourself a pretty dress, preferably red."

The young girl took this as a hint to leave and reluctantly left the room after grabbing her small purse from the table. She had wanted to be apart of it for so long, but now that she was, she couldn't care less. She hated it, in fact. Valentine was angry that he was sending her to the races, because she had realised why.

She had a feeling that she was to be used like an antique statue in the middle of a museum, drawing eyes and attention away from the cheap and dodgy artefacts around the edging of the room. Why else would she need a red dress for a horse auction. She scoffed to herself. Her father didn't value her mind. But she knew that one day, he would. She would make sure if it.

꧁꧂