It's the roaring twenties in Birmingham, the Peaky Blinders exist alongside God but they were much, much closer at hand than Him. Mercedes de Silva, thornless withered rose, petals filled with sorrow. Thomas Shelby, ruthlessly ambitious, conflicted...
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MERCEDES WAS BORN WITH A GOLDEN SPOON IN HER MOUTH, her family descended from a long line of aristocrats who had been wealthy for many generations. Not until her father's gambling addiction had cost them half their fortune, and the best solution is to marry her off to another wealthy family—specifically, the youngest son of Don Hernando Zacarias, a Spanish diplomat.
Despite her family's wealth, she never enjoyed nor liked the lavish lifestyle her parents provided for her—it was too much to bear. Alfie had sent her a black beautiful and sophisticated dress, and it was a branded one at that. It was the fourth dress he had d given her since she began working for him as his secretary, and she hated it every time. But, she would feel worse if she declined the goodwill of her friend.
A knock from her apartment's door snapped her out of trance, she draped her white fur shawl over her shoulder and rose up. As Mercy opened the door, she awkwardly cleared her throat and smiled at the man in front of her. Alfie stood in the doorway, looking fine in his black three-piece suit and his famous pork pie hat.
Alfie Solomons was taken aback, he stared at her for a few seconds—appreciating one of God's greatest creations. The Spanish mestiza took his breath away, he was suffocated with her beauty.
"Well, don't ya look exquisite?" Alfie finally came to his senses and smirked, stroking his beard as he looked her in the eyes. "I look exquisite e'rday, Alfie," joked Mercy, turning her back on him—her black curls dancing as she moves, and picked her handbag up that was laying on the settee.
She looked like someone who just stepped out of a painting, seeing her felt surreal for Alfie. How could someone such hold beauty like her? That night, she was indeed stunning, and he couldn't get his heart to stop pounding against his chest—as if it wanted to break free from its confinement.
