CAGED - ALL BETS ARE OFF || TOMMY SHELBY X READER || PART 06
Outline: Your father sold you to the head of the Peaky Blinders to pay off his debts. Now you're stuck with the most notorious mobster in Birmingham. Is he as bad as he seems?
Word Count: 1,738
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dark themes, multi-part
Part 01 | Part 02 | Part 03 | Part 04 | Part 05
Despite the fall into insanity, you dressed quickly. Another Maroon dress - since he liked the first so much. I pulled my hair back into an elegant bun and slipped into a pair of comfortable shoes before heading downstairs. I was nervous. Why the hell was I so nervous? I quickly made my way to the dining hall, spotting Tommy already sitting at the head of the table. He looked up from his paper, his eyes scanning my form for a moment. My chest clenched. Did he not like it? Why did I care so much? ’You look lovely,’ he said, and you realised a breath you hadn’t even realised you were holding. ‘Come and sit, have something to eat before we head into the city,’ he gestured to the chair beside him, the one where only yesterday I was sitting, cowering in fear. I slipped into the chair, watching as Tommy poured some coffee into my cup. ’I think we both need it after last night,’ he gave me a warm smile, probably the first I had seen since I moved in here. It made him look a lot more handsome, the warmth, the kindness in his eyes. Things I hadn’t seen since my mother. When his eye caught mine, I blushed and looked away, picking up pastry and adding it to my plate to distract myself from the warmth I could feel all over my body from him.
‘I know you haven’t been into the city much, but you’ll be fine.’ Tommy explained, sipping on his own coffee, but his plate was empty. ‘We’ll go straight to the betting shop, you can stay in my office while I handle the business. But if you get overwhelmed or bored, I can have one of the boys bring you home.’
‘You should eat something.’ I said quietly, my brow furrowing at his empty plate. Tommy paused, his eyes narrowing on the paper. Panic set in, my chest clenched, and for a second, I thought I had done something wrong. I parted my lips to speak, to apologise, but the words lodged in my throat as Tommy silently reached across the table with a fork, stabbing a sausage and adding it to his plate. He filled his plate without a word, eating slowly as he continued to read the paper. I couldn’t help but smile down at my plate, pulling apart the pastry for my own breakfast. We ate in a peaceful silence until a man showed up at the door.
‘The car is ready, Sir.’ he said, Tommy nodded to him, turning to me. ’The betting shop is a busy place, so you’ll need to stay close to me unless I say so. Understand?’
I nodded quickly, the tone already told me there was no room for argument.
The betting shop was a different world—a chaotic, smoke-filled labyrinth of desperate men and fluttering paper. The air was thick with the scent of cheap tobacco, stale sweat, and the sharp, nervous energy of people praying for a miracle.
The betting shop was a different world—a chaotic, smoke-filled labyrinth of desperate men and fluttering paper. The air was thick with the scent of cheap tobacco, stale sweat, and the sharp, nervous energy of people praying for a miracle.
As you stepped through the threshold, the noise died down instantly, a ripple of silent, fearful acknowledgement that only followed a man like Tommy Shelby. Your heels clicked against the uneven floorboards, each step echoing in the sudden quiet.
Tommy stopped at a desk with a woman sat behind it, she was pretty, dressed professionally.
‘Morning, Tommy,’ she said, her voice smooth, though you saw her fingers tighten around the pen she held. She spared you a tight, meaningless smile. ‘Morning.’
‘Lizzie,’ Tommy acknowledged, his tone clipped. ‘You remember my wife, Y/N. Don’t you?’ he spoke as if you had met before, but you had no memory of her. However, Lizzie smiled politely.
‘Of course. Will she be with you all day?’ Lizzie asked, her tone was strained, she definitely wasn’t happy you were here.
‘Yes.’ Tommy gave the single word answer with a tight tone, ‘Get the ledgers. We have work to do.’ he ordered, moving towards the office behind her, gesturing for you to follow. You stuck to him like a shadow, keenly aware of the burning gazes from the men on the floor.
In the safety of the private office, you let out a slow breath. Tommy helped you out of your coat and hung it on the coat rack before steering you towards the desk, making you sit in the single chair behind it. Lizzie was back no long after, carrying large folders which you assumed were the ledgers. She gave you a disapproving look as he deposited the ledgers on the desk.
‘Didn’t think you’d like your wife to work, Mr Shelby,’ she quipped, giving him a light smile. But Tommy didn’t even full acknowldge her.
‘That’ll be all Lizzie.’ he dismissed her, her smile dropped as he left the office.
Tommy opened one of the ledgers in front of you, loose sheets of paper stacked neatly inside.
‘These are the stakes, the odds, and the payouts,’ he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register that made your skin prickle. ‘Once they are submitted, they are carved in stone. The numbers never change. You understand?’
I nodded quickly, looking over the numbers on the scribbled on the paper.
A loud crash outside the office made me jump. Tommy looked up.
‘Stay here. I need to handle a dispute on the floor. Do not move.’ He stepped away, leaving you alone in the sanctuary of his desk.
The silence of the office was heavy. You looked down at the ledger. Neat columns of numbers, betting slips, and meticulous notes on debts owed. You stared down at the betting sheets on his desk, your brow furrowing. Something didn’t look right. You shuffled through them, noting the same thing on each. Every few rows, the numbers changed, almost as if they had been rubbed out and replaced; you could still see the slight indentations where the original numbers had been. It was pennies, a few pennies from each sheet, different rows each time. But Tommy said once the numbers are written down, they don’t change…
‘Y/N?’ You jumped at the mention of your name, your eyes snapping up to meet Tommy’s. When did he come back in? ‘Everything alright?’ he asked, looking down at the papers on his desk.
‘Oh… It’s nothing…’ I said quickly, I shouldn’t have been looking at the papers, he probably had a reason for whatever this way anyway…
Tommy stepped forward and rounded the desk, looking at the betting slips in front of me. ’You were looking pretty concerned for ‘nothing’.’ he said, staring down at me, a look that made my skin crawl with nervousness.
‘It’s just… Your betting sheets. You said the numbers didn’t change once they were written down.’ I said, my voice shaking slightly. Tommy nodded, his eyes moving from me to the sheets.
‘They don’t,’ he confirmed, his voice firm. I took a breath, tearing my gaze away from him and down to the papers, picking up one sheet.
‘But these do, right there.’ I pointed out one of the rows to him, ‘you can see someone rubbed out the number and put a new one on,’ Tommy snatched the sheet from me and I flinched, clenching my hand. Tommy’s gaze flicked to me for a second before going back to the sheet.
‘How many of these are like this?’ he asked, his voice growing rough. I quickly gathered up all the sheets I had found with the same marks and handed them to him, avoiding his gaze. I could feel it on me, burning through me as I tried to stop myself shaking with fear.
‘Arthur!’ he shouted, making me jump again. There was a crashing outside, but eventually, a man came through the door. Tommy’s brother, Arthur.
Arthur grinned at me, but I kept my head down. Tommy held out the sheets to him.
‘Find out who wrote these, they’re skimming off the top,’ he ordered, Arthur took the sheets from him, flicking through them and nodded.
‘Bastard…’ Arthur growled, leaving the office quickly. I could hear him shouting, but it was muffled when the door was closed. I kept my head down and my hands in my lap, and I still felt like I was in trouble for something that I had caused trouble from this.
Tommy leaned down, his breath fanning over my cheek.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, leaning forward. I thought he wanted to talk to me, to make me look at him. So I turned my head before it could be forced. I froze when I felt his lips touch mine. Gentle, chaste. My eyes widened for a second, but they quickly fluttered closed. His lips were soft, subtle. Tommy didn’t pull away either; he just stayed. Eventually, his lips moved against mine, taking my bottom lip between his. My breath would have hitched if I could have breathed, but I couldn’t; I didn’t want to. Because breathing meant pulling away from this, and I didn’t want that at all.
Eventually, Tommy did pull away from me, and my lips chased after him, only a few millimetres before I stopped myself, my cheeks flaming. Tommy smiled at me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek gently.
‘You did well today, spotting that,’ he spoke quietly, ‘but I feel like I’m the one who got rewarded.’ If my cheeks could burn any redder, they definitely were at his words.
‘I’ll deal with this and then I’ll take you home myself.’ he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead before pulling away from me completely. I had to stop the noise in my throat that threatened to surface as he pulled away, the lost of his closeness tightening my chest.
‘I’ll be back soon, I promise.’ he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, heading out the door without another word.
I sat at his desk, the feeling of his lips still ghosted over mine.
What had I done?
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