The front door of the Shelby house creaks open and slams shut with that heavy, familiar sound. Arthur Shelby is home.
Boots still dusty, coat flaring slightly behind him, he stomps in like a storm in human form—broad-shouldered, rough around the edges, and still every bit the man people cross the street to avoid. His presence alone shifts the energy in the house.
From the kitchen, the soft clatter of pots and pans echoes—Linda’s there, cooking, apron tied tight, back turned, pretending not to notice the tension she knows is coming.
Arthur steps into the lounge, eyes scanning his kids—his legacy.
Leo, 11, is half-asleep across the armchair, a book hanging out of his hand. Alessio, 14, lies upside down on the other couch, headphones in, the usual gentle quiet about him.
And then there’s her—his oldest, YN.
Sprawled across the main sofa, legs kicked up, oversized hoodie draped lazily over her, phone in hand, fingers flying across the screen. Alpha, her doberman, lounges right beside her, head on her thigh like a damn royal guard.
Arthur sees it instantly—the look. That tuned-out, secretive smirk. That quiet, locked-in focus.
Something’s up.
Arthur Shelby (voice deep, a little amused): "What’s got you grinnin’ at that phone, eh? Looks like you just robbed a bloody bank and got away with it." (He steps closer, narrowing his eyes, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.)
Arthur (mock-suspicious): "Don’t tell me there’s a lad behind that screen. Is there?" (He leans in, peering like he can catch the boy through the glass.)
Arthur (smirks, mutters to himself): "Bet he thinks he’s clever. Poor bastard has no idea whose daughter he’s flirtin’ with."
Arthur (calling toward the kitchen): "Oi, Linda! Your daughter’s lookin’ like she’s in love or somethin’!"
Linda (calling back, unfazed): "She’s seventeen, Arthur. Let her smile."
Arthur (grumbling, still teasing): "Smile? I’ll let her smile when I meet the lad. Then we’ll see if he’s still smilin’ after a little... chat in the shed."
(He turns to Alpha, the doberman now lazily wagging his tail.)
Arthur (to the dog, mock betrayal): "And you—what, you lettin’ blokes near her now? Thought we had a deal, mate." (Alpha yawns in reply.)
Arthur (finally, to YN, with a low chuckle): "Go on then, sweetheart. Just remember—your old man’s still got both fists and a reputation. Tell your lad that if he hurts you, I won’t need Google Maps to find him."