Devil | A Solomons

TWENTY THREE - ANOTHER PARTY

Life for Irina was good. Her business was growing more by the day and thanks to Thomas Shelby, she had an increasing number of new customers contacting about recurring orders. She was making more money than she'd ever made before, and in return, she had shared her customer information with Tommy, sticking to their deal.

Despite her initial prejudice against him, the pair had forged somewhat of a friendship, even if it was built off the back of a marketing ploy. They had meetings most weeks since more often than not Thomas was down in London for one reason or another. They went to dinners together to discuss next steps in their businesses, only after a few drinks, their conversations began to turn more personal, helping their friendship to blossom.

Tommy found out everything about Irina's life, from her rough childhood in Russia and the death of her parents, right up to that day. The more he listened to her speak, the more he liked her, feeling comforted by the fact he knew there was someone else just like him in the world.

She was bold and brave, fearless even in the darkest of situations. Irina Zakharov was unlike any woman Tommy had ever encountered, of which there had been plenty, and it was no surprise to him that Alfie had fallen at her feet.

Thomas hadn't expected Irina to even glance in Alfie Solomons' direction, let alone crawl into his bed, but he'd been proved wrong. Alfie had an undeniable charm about him that even Tommy lacked, but he would never have guessed that a woman like Irina would've fallen for it.

Nevertheless, she had.

Irina had never been happier, and not just because of the growing amount of money she had stacking up in her safe, but because of Alfie.

The couple saw each other most days of the week in the evenings, Alfie taking Irina out for dinner or Irina offering to cook for the two of them. They walked home together after work along the canals, watching the sunset over the vibrant city, arm in arm. Alfie took her to the theatre and to museums, showing her all the culture London had to offer that until then, she had never seen.

Alfie showed Irina that her entire life didn't have to just be work. As much as she enjoyed working hard and slaving away at her desk until ridiculous hours of the night, it was evident that she would continue to make money even if she left at 5 o'clock like everybody else, allowing herself to have a life.

It was a month later when Irina was making her away across the city to a renowned florist. Thomas was hosting another get together at The Eden Club for some reason that Irina had forgotten, and he had asked her to call in a favour at a florist he'd used before.

She wouldn't usually have said yes, but with the increase in profit for her business thanks to him, she willingly agreed to pay the florist a visit and make an order for the party.

A bell rang as she pushed open the door, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as the scent of fresh flowers washed over her, reminding her of the way her home smelled when Alfie came home with a different bouquet every week for her.

"Hi, can I help you?"

Irina looked up and saw a petite, blonde woman with a friendly smile looking over at her from behind a desk. She was mid-way through tying up a bouquet with pink ribbon, stopping when Irina walked through the door.

"Hi," Irina walked over to her, glancing around the small shop at all the different flowers, "I'd like to make an order, quite a large one if that's alright."

"Of course," the woman beamed and pulled out a black leather notebook, clearing the desk of the bouquet, "What's the occasion?"

"A business dinner. We need something classy and elegant, but not too bland. There's ten tables we need centre pieces for as well as a bar. Is this something you could turn around in a couple of weeks? It's on the eighteenth."

Irina tapped her nails on the desk as the woman scrawled down the notes messily in the book, flicking through the pages until the reached the right date, marking it with a star.

"Absolutely, any colour scheme?"

"White, black, and red. I think roses would be perfect if you could throw in some others to fill out the bouquets, but I'm sure you'll know far better than me what works best."

She continued to make notes in the book, pursing her lips as she wrote, her hair falling across her face.

Irina had a habit of over-analysing people, and staring at a person intently without meaning to was part of the deal. There was a singular moment as she stood at the desk when her heart stopped beating, her eyes falling onto a pair of golden earrings with an emerald gem hanging from them clasped around the woman's ear.

Irina immediately knew where she recognised them from. She had found them in a blue velvet box on Alfie's dressing table in his home not too long ago. When she'd asked him about them, he'd told her that they belonged to his mother before she passed away.

"I love your earrings," Irina said, making the woman look up from her book.

"Oh, thank you!" She said, blushing and touching the emerald stone.

"Where are they from? If you'll excuse my asking."

"I'm afraid I don't know, they were a gift."

She smiled and continued to write in her notebook. Irina just nodded with a false smile, her stomach immediately churning at the possibility.

Surely not, Irina said inside her head, clenching her jaw tightly as she tried to compose herself. Alfie wouldn't do that to her, it must just be a coincidence, they weren't exactly not the current fashion so it's a possibility the woman had simply bought a pair herself, though Irina wouldn't have been caught dead in them.

"Alright," the woman let out a breath and stopped writing, "I've made some notes and I'll create a sample bouquet for you to come and take a look at next week. You can make any changes you see fit and I'll have everything delivered on the day. How does that sound?"

The way she was smiling seemed painfully innocent, though Irina had a dreaded inkling in the back of her mind and in her gut, making her feel sick just by looking at her.

"Sounds wonderful," Irina said flatly, not being able to tear her eyes away from the earrings.

"Great, can I take a contact number if you have one?"

Irina reeled off her telephone number, inhaling deeply through her nose to try and settle her stomach as the impending feeling only grew stronger, making her veins pump harder and her head feel faint.

"And a name?"

"Irina Zakharov."

The woman's face fell for an unprofessional moment, but Irina noticed. She quickly covered it up with a smile but Irina had seen, watching the way her eyes widened in a sudden flare of misjudged panic before returning to the sickly sweet smile that Irina decided she never wanted to see again.

"Wonderful, I'll give you a call next week."

"I'm sorry," Irina tilted her head with a smile, unable to stop herself from prying, "I never got your name?"

Irina could sense the panic behind the woman's eyes as she dug her nails into the wooden desk, swallowing hard as she looked across at Irina who was stood with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

"R-Rebecca." She stuttered.

Irina looked at the earrings one last time, the pain she felt in her stomach then was somehow worse than the pain she'd felt when she answered the phone, now being sure that the two voices were in fact the same.

"Pleasure to meet you, Rebecca."

If murder had been legal, Irina would've been spoilt for choice on who to send to the grave first.