𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙖 • 𝙟𝙤𝙝𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮 [complete]

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♤

"YOU RUINED my dress!"

"Calm down Ada; I'll buy you a new one." I rolled my eyes as she traced her fingers over the dried blood, pouting as though I had ruined her wedding dress.

Fortunately, before she started crying, Finn burst into the room with urgency in his words. "Alex, they need you at the Garrison, quick!"

I sighed and grabbed my gun, putting on my hat and coat before running with Finn to the pub. I had learnt a long time ago not to ask questions when I had been given orders.

Even if they came from Finn bloody Shelby.

We entered the Garrison which was uncharacteristically empty for a Saturday night, but I knew there was a Peaky meeting going on so I wasn't surprised.

Arthur, Tommy and John were sitting in the middle of the pub across from the Baltonis. I gestured for Finn to leave and he rolled his eyes before obeying, the door banging shut behind him. The sound grabbed the attention of the men, who all looked as equally pissed off as each other to see me.

"You're late, Alex." Tommy said bluntly as I approached the table, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Sorry. I forgot." I replied just as frankly before taking a seat next to Arthur.

"Well, gentlemen. Shall we begin?" Tommy directed his question to the Baltonis, the leader nodding once in reply.

"I'm pissed off, Peaky Blinders," Alfonso Baltoni spat. "One of my guys was found dead this morning."

"People die, Alfonso."

He glared at Tommy, "His neck was slit and he'd been shot in the mouth. That's hardly a natural death, Shelby."

Arthur's head turned to me slightly. I hated how well he knew me.

Tommy just shrugged and lit his cigarette. "I'm confused, Alfonso. You called this meeting to accuse us of murdering one of your men?"

While Alfonso and Tommy spoke, I took the chance to take a mental image of the Baltonis as I had never formally met them before. There were four of them sitting opposite us; all wearing cheap suits with light hair and dark eyes. The three of them besides Alfonso were relatively young, as I seemed to recall he was either their father or uncle. There wasn't much to their appearance and I got bored fast.

"I propose a truce."

Alfonso's words slightly surprised me.

Tommy narrowed his eyes. "A truce."

"No more bad blood between us. One of your guys is dead, and now one of ours. No more."

"Which one of you killed my brother?" The youngest one asked suddenly, pure rage on his face.

"Henry-"

He cut Alfonso off. "Which one of you? Who killed George?"

"He killed Sam," I couldn't help but spit, sitting forward. "He got what was coming to him.

Arthur placed his hand firmly on my arm as if to warn me to keep my mouth shut.

"When I find out-"

"Henry, enough." Alfonso's words caused Henry to slam his hands down on the table and storm out of the pub. "He gets very emotional."

"So, a truce?" Tommy asked, ignoring the outburst.

The eldest son spoke up. "Let's put it simply: we supply you with ammo, you pay us, and we stop killing each other. For good."

Tommy shrugged and held out his hand. "Sounds good. Come to me tomorrow with a contract."