Chapter Nineteen.

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As Harry opens the door of his car to let me in, an idea crosses my mind.

"I'm gonna walk," I state.

"What?"

"I am going to walk back to the hotel"

"Emma, you can't walk," retorts my friend.

"I still have my legs, so I can"

"No. What I meant is someone like you shouldn't be walking"

I sigh but smile. I know he is only saying this in a positive manner. But I need to get my thoughts straightened out. I need to think about what Harry said, about what I am going to do, about many things. And I cannot do that in a car with him.

"I will drop by to see you before I leave," I announce.

I hug him quickly before walking away.

The streets are weirdly empty and calm. After all, it is London, I thought people would be outside celebrating or just having a good evening. But I am almost alone. And I don't say that in a sad and pathetic way, it's just that the streets are empty.

And somehow, it makes me think about what Harry said. "How do you think your friend, Mr Shelby, keeps himself distracted?" Why was I expecting something different from Thomas? After all, we never talked about this, and he never said anything about how he felt about me. Does he feel something about me? Do I feel something for him? Is that even possible?

Of course, Thomas is a handsome and achieved man. But he is nothing like I would've expected a man to be. He is barely polite, incredibly harsh sometimes, and too authoritarian. That, and his family doesn't even add in his favour. I have nothing to say about Arthur, but Polly? She hasn't been kind to me. Sure, I've only met her twice, I think, but she hasn't shown the slightest interest or kindest to my person.

But then, there's John and Ada. She was the one who encouraged me to discuss my differences with Thomas. And John, oh dear John. I've never laughed that much since my father died. John has been the kindest of them all. I still remember the time he came to the train station to make sure everything was fine. Or when he drove me home the day I went to Thomas' office. Even the other day when he came to chat and we spent the whole afternoon remembering our respective childhood. John is the only Shelby who made me feel like home since the moment I met him. He didn't try to be domineering nor overbearing. He was the nicest and most delightful person I've met since I arrived in Birmingham.

And Thomas is just madness. He is chaos itself. Who would consider themselves the devil if they weren't mad? I can still remember the night I saw the Duchess in his house, naked, and delusional. He didn't try to explain himself on that. He didn't try to defend his actions.

He never said who are the Peaky Blinders.

Hands grab my waist and I scream in surprise as I pulled away from the main street and into a small alley. I continue to scream, scared when someone puts his hand on my mouth. And by the size of it, I quickly understand I am being attacked by a man. I try to get free of his grip, but he is stronger than me.

Two other person walks into the alley. Two men, holding guns, walking toward me.

"Sei sicuro che sia lei?" Asks one of the two men.

Italians.

Why is he asking if I am the right girl?

Why would the Italian try to kill me? I haven't done anything. I have no business in Italy.

"È lei. Vincente l'ha vista con gli inglesi alla stazione," replies the man who still holds me.

Changrettas.

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