It was the night of your birthday. Your farther, Billy Kimber, decided to host a party. Atleast a hundred people were going to show.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror and smiled with satisfaction. You felt good, and most definitely looked good.

As you turn to exit your room, you're met with a sharp blow to the head and you lose conciousness.

"Sorry , it's nothing personal." Thomas Shelby whispers as he catches you.

"Arthur, take him to the Garrison and make the ransom known."