room was filled with the murmurs of the family meeting, cigars burning, glasses clinking, but Tommy barely heard any of it. He sat at the head of the table, cold-eyed and calculating, rest of family listened. Arthur, Linda, John, Esme, Polly, Michael, Gina, Finn, and Mary—all present. With a flick of his wrist, Tommy switched on the CCTV monitor, and there she was.
Y/N Shelby. His eldest. His shadow. The one who knew everything before he even spoke it.
But she was more than his daughter—she was his deadliest weapon. A ruthless hitwoman. underground fighter feared. A mixed martial artist who could take down men twice her size, then walk away without a second glance. She wasn’t just a Shelby, she was Peaky Blinders’ kingmaker, the one who pulled strings in the dark while Tommy played the public face.
She sat on the first-floor couch, completely unbothered. Unapologetic. She never came to these meetings, never needed to. Information passed through her first, by the time Tommy laid it out for family, she already played game, moves, set pieces in place. underworld knew it. They feared Tommy, but they feared her more. Because he made the deals, Y/N ensured there were no loose ends. Anyone who crossed Peaky Blinders knew facing her was far worse than facing her father. His lips twitched something between smirk and scowl, exhaled through his nose, shaking head slightly before muttering under his breath.
"That’s my fucking eldest teen, sitting there like she owns the world."
family exchanged knowing glances. There was no real heat behind his words, only familiar frustration and pride Because Tommy had always spoiled her, she protected him, taken bullets for him, three times, no hesitation. in return, he let her be exactly who she was: deadliest Shelby of them all. Tommy leaned back in his chair, rubbing temple before raising his voice. "Y/N! Get your arse here!" Because no matter how untouchable she was, how much she ran the game from behind the scenes when Tommy Shelby called, his heir always answer