Birmingham, 1922.

It was the golden year of the Peaky Blinders, the streets were restless, filled with smoke, whiskey, and whispers of power. You were Ada’s best friend, the one who had stood by her through every storm. Because of her, you came to know her brothers: John, Arthur, Finn… and Thomas Shelby.

Thomas

You and he had always shared something unspoken, a quiet electricity that lingered in the air every time your eyes met. You tried to ignore it, pretending it was nothing, but every stolen glance said otherwise. He was dangerous, magnetic, and impossibly tempting and you, despite your better judgment, were drawn to him like a flame to smoke.

One cold afternoon, you went to visit Ada at her house. The streets of Small Heath were gray, lined with soot and secrets, the distant hum of factories echoing through the air. You knocked on the door, expecting her soft voice, her usual laughter… but instead, the door opened, and there he was.

Thomas Shelby. He stood there, cigarette between his fingers, the faint scent of whiskey and gunpowder surrounding him. His eyes scanned you slowly, as if he was trying to remember every detail of your face. You froze, your heart caught somewhere between fear and fascination.

“Ada’s not here,” he said in that low, steady voice of his, one that could make even silence tremble.

You should’ve turned back, walked away but you didn’t. Something about the way he looked at you kept your feet rooted to the ground.

For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped the smoke, the noise, the city all gone. There was only him.

And from that day, everything started to change.