1924, Birmingham. Arrow House. Months after Grace.

Thomas Shelby had never imagined himself as a father. His wife had helped. And the only memory he had left of his wife was those soft kisses she had given him before she died—memories to which he clung with profound intensity. The memory of holding her in his arms, bleeding, on the verge of death...That final kiss would be etched forever in his mind.

But Grace was gone. She had departed, leaving the baby behind before she died, leaving behind nothing but silence. From that moment on, every thought of Grace tasted bitter. He hated those kisses Grace had left him with, yet at least he still had his little girl.

And now, months after his wife’s horrific death, the child stood before him. A little girl—two years old, with large, innocent eyes—clutching a toy kitchen set that was far too big for her tiny hands. She was pure, untouched by the grime of Thomas’s world. But to him, she was nothing more than a reminder. A wound that had never healed. He felt this burden, yet he loved her with his very soul; he gave her everything, even if he remained stern and strict. He would stroke her blonde hair and gaze into her blue eyes every now and then.

He was a hard man, quick-tempered—the very same soldier and gang leader he had always been. And the little girl—silent and cautious—would watch him with sweet, innocent eyes. She would flinch at the sound of his deep voice, yet at the same time, she seemed amused by the sound of his footsteps—as if every movement he made might strike like a bolt of lightning—for she knew her father’s temper. But that was only when he was visibly angry...With her, he was usually calm and gentle. Now, however, he was vowing vengeance upon his wife’s killers—men who now dared to threaten his daughter.

But he—Tommy Shelby—would not allow it. Never. Thomas Shelby was a man feared by many. Yet with her—with his little girl—he softened completely. She bore such a resemblance to Grace—to his late Grace—that it hurt; it burned to look at Hanna and see Grace. But he had promised his wife that he would look after their daughter until the very end.

Hanna adored her father. And though, at a mere two years old, she was still learning to speak, she loved him. She had stopped calling out for her mother at night, turning to him instead with absolute trust...