Chelsea stared at her dad who sat at his office desk, his head in his hands with a half drunken whiskey beside him.
He looked up and stared at his daughter's expression, "If you're going to lecture me, skip it, I've already done it to myself."
Chelsea shook her head and placed her hands down on the desk, leaning into him, "I'm not going to lecture you, dad, I just want to tell you what a big fucking mistake you've made."
Tommy took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim room. "Chelsea, there are things you don't understand. Things you can't understand."
"Stop treating me like a child!" she snapped. "I understand perfectly well. You slept with Diana while Lizzie was at home, grieving over our loss. How could you be so heartless?"
He sighed, leaning back in his chair, his gaze shifting to a spot somewhere beyond her. "It's not about being heartless. It's about survival. It's about keeping this family safe and powerful."
"At what cost, Dad? At what cost?" Her voice trembled, the emotional toll evident in her tone. "Is power worth destroying our family? Worth breaking Lizzie's heart? Do you even care about us, or is it all just a game to you?"
Tommy's eyes snapped back to hers, the steely blue orbs reflecting a lifetime of hardened resolve. "Everything I do, I do for this family. For you, for Lizzie, for everyone. Sometimes that means making difficult choices."
Chelsea shook her head, tears of frustration pooling in her eyes. "No, Dad. This wasn't a difficult choice. It was selfish. It was cruel. Lizzie trusted you, we all trusted you. And you shattered that trust."
"Lizzie knows what this life entails," Tommy said, his voice tinged with an edge of defensiveness. "She understands the sacrifices that have to be made."
"She's not a pawn in your schemes, Dad! She's your wife, the mother to your children. She deserved better from you, especially now, after everything we've lost."
A silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating. Tommy stubbed out his cigarette, his expression unreadable. "You think I don't feel the weight of what happened? You think I don't grieve for my daughter every single day? But life doesn't stop, Chelsea. The enemies we face don't stop. I have to keep moving, keep fighting."
Chelsea's anger flared anew. "And what about us? What about the people who love you? Do we just become collateral damage in your endless war?"
Tommy stood up, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room. "I never wanted this for you, Chelsea. But this is the world we live in. The world I've built to protect you. Sometimes the lines blur, sometimes we have to make sacrifices we don't want to make."
Chelsea's shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her. "I just wanted a father who would be there for us. For Lizzie. Not someone who sees us as pieces on a chessboard."
Tommy walked around the desk, standing in front of her. He reached out, but she stepped back, the distance between them growing more than just physical. "I'm sorry, Chelsea. Truly, I am. But I need you to understand—"
"No, Dad," she interrupted, her voice soft but firm. "You need to understand. If you keep pushing us away, there won't be a family left to protect."
With that, she turned and left the room, leaving Tommy standing alone, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. For the first time in a long while, Thomas Shelby, the indomitable leader, felt the sting of his own vulnerability and the true cost of his relentless pursuit of power.
Chelsea sat in front of her children, leaning in and holding their hands, "Now, I've got to go away for a bit. Me and Granddad Tommy have got something we need to do. Can you promise me that you'll be good for daddy?"
