e·lite
/əˈlēt,āˈlēt/
noun
noun: elite; plural noun: elites
a group or class of people seen as having the greatest power and influence within a society, especially because of their wealth or privilege.
• in which the darkness-loathing heiress meets t...
≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺ "I know. So far, I don't see anyone worshipping me. Kissing my feet."
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He was such a maddening man.
Irene scowled behind her glass of champagne, watching Thomas Shelby sit there, on the couch, laughing it up with Lizzie Stark. The latter proceeded to side-eye the socialite as she puts a hand on his arm. Save for her and Isabelle; everyone was having a wonderful time. Drinking, chatting, dancing, whoring. The two oldest daughters of the Grosvenors were scrutinizing the room with much poise, holding their champagne with their Garrard adorned fingers.
"I thought we were the guests of honour, " Whispered Isabelle as she twirls the diamond necklace on her neck. Irene sighed before chugging the last remnants of her champagne and motioning for another glass, "I know. So far, I don't see anyone worshipping me. Kissing my feet."
The both of them laughed rather too loudly. Every guest turned their heads, the buzz around the room immediately coming to a halt. Robert, who was talking to Daphne - of course - shook his head disapprovingly. The two drunk girls shrugged before suppressing another laugh.
Without her noticing, the corner of Thomas' lips turned upward. Smirking at the ridiculously beautiful heiress clad in green satin. Her dark winding hair was let down, cascading down her shoulders. Irene was accompanied by her favourite companions, her sister and a glass of alcohol.
Snapping from his trance, Tommy stood up, "Nice. Hey!"
His eyes drifted to Irene. But when he caught her, she quickly averted her gaze everywhere else except him.
Well, that was infuriating.
Clearing his throat, Thomas Shelby continued, "Listen up. Um... Before we go and eat, I'd like to say a few words. Last time we were all here, it ended badly."
Tabitha hugged Arthur from behind when he agreed with a simple, "Yeah."
Irene fought the urge to vomit into her glass when Mr Shelby looked at Lizzie as he said, "And now, we're in a happier place."
"You know, Tommy knocked her up," Ada whispered to her. Both Isabelle and Irene turned to Ada with lightning speed.
The latter finding it impossible to ingest the news, she puts her glass of champagne down—something she had never done before. Out of the peripheral of her eyes, she could see how Isabelle was signalling to Ada and the latter realizing and forming a big O with her lips.
Pregnant, huh. That was why he was ignoring her, being so indifferent towards her. Because he got Lizzie fucking Stark fucking pregnant.
Suddenly the scene in front of her becomes blurry. Her heart was beating fast against her ribs, her palms becoming sweaty, her head suddenly ringing. Thomas Shelby lied to her. Maybe he didn't lie outright, seeing it wasn't really her business, but he definitely withheld the truth. Was she nothing to him? Was Irene just another piece in his game, ready to be rid of?
