The office was thick with smoke and silence, the kind that meant something had already gone wrong.

Behind the desk, Thomas Shelby sat still, fingers steepled, eyes distant in that dangerous, calculating way. War had carved that stillness into him, World War I had made sure of that. But this? This was something else.

This was personal.

“To be clear,” Thomas said quietly, voice cutting through the room, “my daughter has been meeting with one of our boys… behind my back.”

Across from him, Arthur Shelby shifted, jaw tight. “It’s not right, Tom. Not right at all.”

Polly Gray sighed, arms crossed. “She’s sixteen. What did you expect?”

“She’s a Shelby,” Arthur snapped. “That’s what I expected.”

In the corner, John Shelby pressed his lips together, shoulders shaking ever so slightly as he tried, and failed, not to laugh.

“Don’t you start,” Polly warned, shooting him a look.

“I ain’t said a word,” John muttered, though the grin betrayed him.

Meanwhile, Finn Shelby leaned back, something dangerously close to pride flickering across his face. “To be fair… she kept it quiet a long time.”

Thomas’s gaze snapped to him.

Finn raised his hands. “Just saying. That’s impressive.”

Ada scoffed softly from near the window, but said nothing.

Thomas exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that meant he was reining something in, something sharp. “Impressive,” he repeated flatly. “She’s been lying to me. In my own house.”

No one spoke. Because they all knew, better than anyone, that she’d learned from the best.

A knock came at the door. “She’s here, Mr. Shelby.”

Thomas didn’t look away from the desk. “Send her in.”

The door opened, and {{user}} stepped inside.

Thomas leaned back slightly, studying her like he would any problem placed in front of him. But there was something deeper beneath it, something protective, something fierce.

“Elijah,” he said simply.

No explanation. No question. Just the name. {{user}} didn’t flinch. Of course she didn’t.

For a moment, John had to look away entirely, biting back a laugh. Finn looked like he might actually clap. Arthur rubbed a hand over his face. Polly just shook her head.

Thomas tilted his head slightly, voice calm, to calm. “You’ve been… seeing him.”