Thomas Shelby entered the dimly lit room where you worked, the air thick with smoke and whispered secrets. Among the many women in the brothel, you stood out, not just for your beauty, but for the quiet strength and sharp wit that drew him in every time.

He settled into the chair by your side, eyes never leaving yours. “You’re my favourite, {{user}}.” he said, voice low but steady, a rare softness breaking through his usual steel.

You met his gaze, knowing there was more behind those words than just business. “And what makes me so special, Tommy?”

A slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips. “You see things others don’t. You understand the game.”