𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐒
❝ They're the French Kissers,
that's what they do.
They will lure you in
and then they'll kill you
with a kiss. ❞
━ in which the leader of the french kissers
...
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Between days spent away from each other, Thomas in the complicated entanglements of British politics and Rose overseeing the rebuild of her café and absinthe factory, and nights tangled together, sweat-slick bodies glued tight and sweet nothings whispered into dreams until they fell asleep in each other's arms, a year passed.
Slowly, the French Kissers assembled themselves back into what they were before the Saurets: a secretive, powerful gang with eyes everywhere, acting best in the shadows, pulling the strings others couldn't see and making connections and deals where others wouldn't dare to.
The name of their gang became even more feared and intangible, something whispered in the high circles of society as a conspiracy theory, something murmured in the darkest shadows of alleys by lips blue and poisoned, the dying men engulfed in the arms of pretty, innocent-looking women with mouths red from murder as their targets breathed out their last words.
This was the dark part of Rose's life, necessary but gruesome – the lurking murders, the strategic deals, the delicate but violent dance between her wants and her family's and her country's needs, and the opposition of men who thought themselves wiser and stronger than her.
It was a dance she was used to, but now she had another player to account for – Thomas Shelby and his ruthless ambition, rivaled only by his love for her. As soon as their gangs started making deals together, they prospered. Rose's shrewd wits and stealth with Thomas' foresight and brutality – they were a match made in hell, and few things in all of Britain could stop them.
But the best part of Rose's life was not when they were playing king and queen in a chessboard of business and politics, but when they were father and teacher, helping Charles' grow into the best version he could be. Rose's best days were spent at the music room in Thomas' manor as she guided Charles through his violin lessons. She would always bring him different chocolate pastries and he would always grin and share them with her, and then he would practice twice as hard when he noticed Rose's longing gaze on the violin, as if to give her some part of her music back.
Then when dusk fell Thomas would come into the room and ask her if she wanted to stay for dinner, the sun already set in his eyes as his stare darkened over hers. She would ask Charlie if he wanted her there, and Charlie would giggle and shout yes every time, and so Rose would stay for dinner, Thomas' hand or leg always finding hers somehow, and then, after she said goodnight to Charlie and walked over to the door, Thomas would snatch her away and carry her into his room, where he laid her down on his bed and made love to her however she wanted. He would at times be gentle and sweet, attentive to her every need, so slow and reverent it made Rose's heart burst from so much love, and then at others he would be harsh and merciless, fucking her into the night fast and rough until she was a whimpering mess, writhing and begging for more, Thomas bending her in half or pressing her face down on the mattress to muffle her needy whines.
