The office’s low light flickers from a single lamp, smoke curling lazily in the stale air. Alfie sits behind the worn desk, fingers tapping rhythmically on scattered papers and ledgers. You’re leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him with that familiar smirk.

“Can’t keep your eyes off the numbers, huh?” you tease, voice soft but sharp.

He looks up, grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Someone’s gotta keep this bloody empire from fallin’ apart while the rest are busy pissin’ about.”

You push off the doorframe and step closer, dropping a folder on the desk. “Plans for the next shipment. You’re thinkin’ bigger this time.”

“Course I am,” he says, eyes gleaming with that wild spark. “Bigger means better. Means we keep ahead. Means no one’s got the balls to touch what’s ours.”

You slide into the chair beside him, fingers tracing the edge of the papers. “And you trust me to handle the men while you’re out makin’ deals.”

He nods, slow, eyes never leaving yours. “Trust? I’d trust you with my life — and the whole damn business.”

A beat. Then he chuckles, soft but full of warmth.

“Besides, who else knows how to keep them in line better than my missus?”