Curiosity Is Getting The Best Of Me

Curiosity is getting the best of me

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 5

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Oh my word guys!!! I'm so sorry this took so long but I was truly so stuck for some reason!! Anyway as always, I'm having so much fun with you guys. Idk why it sometimes feels like we're at a sleepover, anyone else? Also thank you so much to everyone who is sending in requests, I promise I'll get to them!! Have an amazing day, sending all my love!! - Mo

You could have killed him. You really could have. Truly. Truly you could have.

The ‘small apartment’ Alfie described was in fact a gorgeous row house about a block away from his own home, and two blocks away from the office. It had a beautiful garden in the back, with a dark red oak door in the front. Three stories. With enough room for each couple to have their own room, and Eli could finally have his own room instead of sleeping on the floor in the parlor. The home came fully furnished, and Alfie made sure that previous customers knew where to find your father and uncle, so the business could continue while the shop was being repaired.

And if he couldn’t have been more incorrigible, “someone” had “donated” three new dolls for Esther, which were perfectly placed on her new bed in the room you and her would share.

As your family walked around in awe of the rich space, you hung back, tight lipped. It was far too much. It was an enormous expense. And he acted as if he had nothing to do with it and it was nothing. You really could kill him.

“Alfie… how much does this cost you?”, you murmur to him, refusing to look at him.

“That’s none of your concern sweet heart.”

“It absolutely is. I balance the book.”

“And I correct your math.”

“Alfie this is far too-“

“It is exactly what is needed. I’m not about to argue with you in front of your parents.”

“We’ll never be able to repay you Alfie. It isn’t fair to you.”

“Woman the agreement is already made and it was a good agreement. Now I have someone who will fix my shirts since you refuse to.”

“Because I’m your secretary not your wife.”

Alfie scoffed and rolled his eyes, “You’re the source for every new ulcer, that’s what you are. Secretary is supposed to make my life better and she makes my life a living hell.”

You couldn’t help but smile. You let your eyes wander to him, to see that he was already staring at you, “What?”

He taps his cane against your ankle, “You like it?”

You nod, pressing your lips together. The cane touching your ankle and his body coming closer making your neck hot.

Alfie knew that he shouldn’t get closer. But your family was upstairs, no one would be a witness. He needed to be closer. You were barely whispering. He needed to get closer to you, “My house isn’t far. I’ll always be able to come. If you need me.”

“You said you would have someone outside every night.”

“They ain’t as good as me though yeah?”

“No.”

Your eyes needed to break from his gaze. It was becoming so warm in the house. His knuckles press your chin to look up at him, “I’ll always come. Understand?”

You nod again, unable to look away from his deep blue eyes, “Yes Alfie.”

The silence envelops you, and you feel something is about to be confessed, when Esther comes charging through, “Sissy! Sissy! Look at my new dollys! Mr. Solomons got me new dollys!”

She jumped into your arms, so ecstatic about her new treasures. They were beautiful, with silky hair and darling cotton dresses. She couldn’t have yearned for anything finer, “They are lovely my sweet girl! Have you thanked Mr. Solomons for the presents?”

Esther, ever the little spitfire, threw herself from your arms and into Alfie’s, causing him to drop the cane in the process to catch her, “Thank you Mr. Solomons! I really love them!”

Alfie thankfully got his footing right, boosting Esther more on his good hip, “Hush now chicken it had nothing to do with me! But I’m happy you like them. They’ll have a riot with you yeah?”

She nodded ferociously, “Mr. Solomons will you stay for our tea party?”

Your face flushed with slight embarrassment, Alfie Solomons has probably never been asked to a tea party in his life. Much less an Esther tea party. Which involved lengthy backstories and horridly torrid affairs for each doll. A party could last a whole afternoon. But Alfie Solomons merely chuckled, patting down the soft curls on Esther’s head, “Well chicken while that sounds absolutely lovely yeah, I unfortunately cannot make it today. You will have to let your guests know, and give them my apologies.”

Esther pouted, “Why not?”

He began to explain when you heard your mother call out, “Mr. Solomons! I hope you are not leaving already!”

You shut your eyes, hoping that this was a bad dream that you were going to wake up from soon. Up until this morning, you had managed to keep your life with Alfie and your life with your family separate. Both lovely and warm but incompatible in your mind. Your mother could not be seriously about to ask him to stay.

Alfie slowly set Esther down, mussing her short hair, “I’m afraid I must Mrs. Abraham. There’s business I must attend to and I don’t want to overstay.”

Your mother merely grabbed a hold of your father’s arm, “Mr. Solomons you have not eaten yet! It’s late afternoon and you must be exhausted as we are. Please let us make something, nothing too fancy but you should sit and let us make lunch for everyone.”

“Now really Mrs. Abraham I-“

“Mr. Solomons I know you are a big man but I really cannot let you leave without a meal. Now please sit down at this beautiful table you have gifted us and let us make you lunch.”

It was in that moment that Alfie noticed that you and your mother got the same look in your eyes when determined. The corner of your lip crooked the same. You surely didn’t notice, and Alfie would never tell you, but it was as though Alfie saw an image of you 20 years from now. Alfie smiled, “Alright alright if you insist. Mr. Abraham I hope I’m not inconveniencing yeah?”

Your father shook his head, “Not at all Mr. Solomons. Please, let’s get acquainted with this table together.”

Your mother said a simple lunch. But it turned into a whole affair. Alfie also failed to mention that the kitchen was stocked enough for a whole week. Your mother went above and beyond with you and your aunt and grandmother to make one of the most healing meals you had ever had. Roasted chicken and vegetables. Hot bread. Strong tea. You had even made a fresh apple tart for dessert, which Alfie helped himself to three slices.

You had never imagined this happening. But yet it was. Alfie was at your family’s dinner table. Laughing. Telling stories. Listening to others. Serving your grandmother and grandfather. If there wasn’t the base lie of you being under his employ, this would have felt so natural. Your mother sat him next to you, and your mind went miles and miles ahead. What it would be like if there wasn’t the lie there. If Alfie was there not as an employer but as a regular man. As someone who was sweet on you and wanting to be a part of this family. You yearned to reach your hand to his under the table, weaving your fingers together and feeling the callouses and scars of his knuckles.

Little did you know, Alfie’s thoughts were parallel to yours. You never noticed, but his eyes never left you. Watching the way you teased your family, doted on Esther, argued with Eli, laughing in that way that shook the walls. It made his heart race just watching you, seeing you be so free.

As the lunch turned into dinner and turned into evening, your father then asked, “Dearest, how far is your office from here do you think? Do you and Eli need to see what the walk will look like?”

Before you could answer, Alfie saved you from stammering, “Mr. Abraham, her boss is actually located right next to my bakery. If you’d permit me, I’d be happy to walk her to work and back. Just to make sure she’s safe?”

Your mother perked up,”oh would you Mr. Solomons? I hate to see her walking alone down the street.”

You raised your eyes at your mother, “Mama! Please I can walk myself to work!”

Your mother raised her hands, “This is a new neighborhood and you don’t know the way! Why would you dispose of a blessing??”

“Mama Mr. Solomons is very busy he does not need to trouble himself with me.”

You and your mother proceeded to volley back and forth. A common occurrence between you two, which no one cared to come between. It wasn’t until Alfie put his hand between the two of you that you settled, “Now now please Miss Abraham, your mother is quite right. It’s a new part of Camden for you, and you just experienced a terrible accident. I will not push it eh, you can make your own decision. But it will not be a trouble at all for me. And I’m sure your boss will be very invested in making sure that his nice secretary makes it to and from the office safely yeah?”

Alfie tried to hide his smirk as your nostrils flared, a habit that he noticed during one of your first arguments with him. He loved it almost as much as he loved your laughter. You finally relented after 3 beats, “If you believe it is best Mama, yes Mr. Solomons… I would be grateful for an escort to work.”

Alfie clapped his hands together, “Lovely. I will be here promptly at 7:30 tomorrow morning. Mr and Mrs Abraham, this was an absolute treat. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so well. Ishmael will be downstairs keeping watch over the gate tonight. Shalom everyone, sleep well!”

Everyone gave their goodbyes, until your mother spoke up, “Dear please walk Mr. Solomons to the gate.”

You gave your mother a look, which she quickly reciprocated with more fervor. Inhaling deep you acquiesce, walking Alfie out to the gate, as if he would ever get lost.

Alfie chuckled as you opened the gate, “Thank you very much sweetie, I would never have found my way out.”

“I am so sorry for their behavior Mr. Solomons. I promise you will never have to endure that again.”

“Oh yes because I would never want to endure that again. A hot meal. People surrounding me that don’t want to kill me.”

“An impromptu tea party?”

“It was lovely actually. Esther is a very gracious hostess, you could take some tips.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “oh I’m sure I could.”

You find that your eyes meet more and more now. And nothing makes you want to look away. You feel the bite of the cold wind on your shoulder, and you become keenly aware of the cold metal of the gate your rest your hand on. Alfie presses his lips together, and puts his hand on top of yours, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. You barely hear the gravely murmur, “Get inside little viper. You’ll catch cold”

“I’m not cold.”

“Well your mother will worry.”

“It’s fine.”

He chuckles, “God you’re difficult…Shalom sweet heart. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

You nod, “Shalom Alfie.”

Your hand drags away from his, as you walk backwards back into the home. His eyes never leave your form until you cross the threshold.

As you lay in bed that night, all you can think about are those dark blue eyes. Those full lips shrouded by a coarse and wild beard. Those rough hands against yours. Your mind replayed the feeling of his hands on yours, memorizing the tough callouses and tender touch of his fingers. You told yourself that you couldn’t let your mind go and explore those secret desires. Those secret desires where he wouldn’t just touch your fingers. He’d hold your hand, letting everyone know that you were his. Those imaginings where he wasn’t just your boss, but yours and yours alone. Any moment you weren’t with him, you missed him. You wish that he could stay. Stay for the night. Stay for the morning. That you wouldn’t just give tea at his desk but at his breakfast table. Where he wouldn’t just let his hand hover over your jaw, but caress it. Where you could finally feel that god awful beard on your cheek. Your heart ached terribly. Wishing and wishing that it could be that way. That you could have him. And that he could have you. You tossed and turned, watching the moon make its way across the sky from the window in your room. Your hands clasped by your heart, still feeling the tingle of where his hands were.

Alfie in fact made it to the house at 7:15 the next morning. He emphasized that it was because he just wanted to make sure you weren’t left waiting, but he looked all too smug and comfortable drinking tea with your grandmother, having some of the fresh jam she had made just that morning.

As soon as you were out of window view of your house, you felt like you could finally breathe and speak freely. You were worried to a certain extent that Alfie would treat the relationship you had differently. As if you were some sort of charity case, or if you were a helpless bird needing attending to. But those fears were unnecessary, as Alfie jumped right into the agenda for the day. Rambling and cursing the names he had to meet with today. Though you would typically scold him for inviting bad luck onto business dealings, you couldn’t help but smile and laugh along with him. This was the thing that brought back equilibrium. Alfie made things normal, and made you feel like a normal person. Not someone who had just lost a childhood home. Not someone who was being targeted.

As you walked in together, many of the men who had already begun work said their hellos, and gave their sympathies. Alfie grumbled beside you, wanting to keep walking into yours and his little corner. It shouldn’t have bothered him. He knew it shouldn’t. You really didn’t belong to him. But he found that it was all too easy for the flame of jealousy to rise when he saw you give that smile of yours to anyone else. He loved that smile. He yearned for it and saw it as a previous jewel that he coveted and aimed for. And for anyone else to gain it, it felt like a quick stab to his chest. But he kept himself relatively quiet, trying to behave in front of his men. Not letting himself appear as soft, or compromised.

Finally you are able to make it to your desk, and Alfie hands you your calendar. As you touch it, you notice that he’s definitely refiled through it.

“You went through my calendar?”

“Well it is my calendar actually.”

You put the notebook down and turn to him quickly, “well it’s my notes! And I have personal notes in there too, it’s not just about you.”

“Well don’t worry darling your handwriting is so tiny it’s not even legible. I did see your little cartoons though. Very cute that is. But seriously yeah. I bought the calendar. It’s mine. It’s my business in there. And if you hadn’t left right? If you hadn’t left I wouldn’t have had to pilfer through it.”

You just put your head down. There really wasn’t much more to say. But Alfie knows exactly how to fill the silence doesn’t he? “Darling. Come into my office real quick yeah?”

You take your seat in front of him. Alfie at his desk. Still early enough in the morning where his shirt buttons haven’t been ripped off yet in anger. And his hair is set without raking his thick fingers through yet. He considers you for a long moment. Just studying your face. Noticing how you don’t fidget under his eyes anymore. Your breathing even and your back relaxed into the back of the chair.

He sighs, leaning forward on the desk, muscular arms holding himself up. “Treacle… treacle darling I think we need to talk about your place in the business.”

Your heart stopped… did he really just bring you to the office to fire you? “Alfie you are not firing me.”

His head jerked back, “What the… what the fuck are you talking about? Just.. shh be quiet. Shit treacle just let me speak!”

You settle back as you both readjust. Shaking his head he continues, “No no treacle. Listen… I’ve been thinking about last night. How much my… way of communicating scared you. And I just want us to… communicate… expectations.”

You nod slowly. Truthfully, no man has ever talked to you like this. He nodded back, “Alright. Well… darling. Shit how do people do this.”

He rubbed his face as if scrubbing it would bring out the words to the surface, “Ugh treacle listen to me. I am… a bad man. Ok? I have killed people. I have. I have tortured men. I have knocked out half of the men in London. And I love to be on the top. My life, is violent. Ok? I don’t want us to pretend that violence is not a part of this job. Are you with me?”

After assenting, he only continued, “Now, I cannot guarantee you that you will never see violence ever. But, I can guarantee you that I will do my very best to make sure that you see as little as possible. Does that work with you?”

You nodded, “I can agree to that.”

He nodded back, brows furrowed, and letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was even holding. “Excellent. Good good.”

Leaning back, finally relaxing, Alfie continues with his racing thoughts, “I’ve also been thinking treacle… that you need to be shown the other parts of the business yeah? Give you a little more responsibility around here. Let you in more on my other dealings.”

“Other dealings?”

“Well sweetheart you didn’t think the bakery talk was just for show did you? There is in fact a bakery next door. And we got the jewelry shop upstairs. I want you in on it, familiar with everything.”

Alfie begins to rise up out of his seat again, motioning to you, “Come on. Let’s take a trip darling.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting when you went down to the bakery. When he mentioned bakery you pictured… a shack. Something run down with stale bread pilfered from other shops.

But it wasn’t. It was a legitimate bakery. The air warm and full with the smell of hot loaves and cinnamon and sugar. Older grandmotherly women worked behind the counter, smiling and glowing. Alfie tipped his hat towards them, “Morning ladies. Looking wonderful this morning as always.”

They jeered and laughed at their rugged boss, calling him over to test out the newest recipes created. He gave limited critique for the women, sandwiched between loving praise for their work. You were given a loaf as well, told to come in any time you wished.

You then walked into the jewelry shop above the office, and you couldn’t help but feel out of place.

Wall to wall, glass cases of absolutely finery surrounded you. Perhaps it was to keep the sin of coveting at bay, but you tried to not look at jewelry. You tried to not think of yourself as a girl who longed for jewelry. But looking at the glittering jewels and chains, you couldn’t help but feel a thrill run through you. They were beautiful.

You hear Alfie laugh before you realize that your mouth had been gaping open, “Well go on then. Take a look around.”

Your fingers danced along the glass casing, staring at the fine pieces. Like glittering flowers on delicate flower beds, you couldn’t believe it. Long thick golden chains. Silvers bracelets. A diamond tiara even. It wasn’t until the end of the line did you see something that made your heart pause in your chest.

A small golden locket. Heart shaped, with engraved ivy around the edges. Holding it along was a delicate gold chain. It looked so soft, beautiful, and something you had always wanted to wear. You were so entranced by its simple beauty, you jumped when Alfie came behind you.

“You want to try it on?”

You shook your head vigorously, “Oh no no it’s ok.”

“C’mon you want to I know you do.”

“I can’t try on the merchandise!”

“I think I decide who can try on the jewelry yeah? C’mon just try it on. It’s been waiting for someone.”

You smiled, suddenly very shy, “Well… ok. Just for a second.”

Alfie unlocked the case, pulling it out gently, carrying it as though it was the diamond tiara in the case over. He motioned for you to hold your hair away, to let him clasp it around your neck. It was so silent, you being the only two in the shop. All that could be heard was your pounding heart and the sound of Alfie’s breath brushing against your ear. You felt the cool weight against your chest, with Alfie’s warm and heavy hands on your shoulders. He gently positioned you in front a mirror, letting you see it on yourself.

You looked beautiful. It looked like it always belonged to you. As though it was made for you and you alone. The scent of your soap and perfume filled Alfie’s nose, and he wished that all the air in the world was replaced by your smell. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He leaned into you, bringing his face to the side of yours. Cheek to cheek, letting his hands run up and down your arms. Feeling the shiver that ran up your spine. “It’s beautiful.” You whisper, suddenly feeling as though you couldn’t catch your breath.

Alfie pressed his lips to your hair, mumbling into you, “It was made for you.”

You feel yourself melt into him, your back falling into his chest, with his strong arms wrapping around you. You heart was pounding, and you could’ve sworn you felt his heart knocking into your back. Your chest was so tight, you felt like your whole body was on fire. Alfie couldn’t stop now. He pressed kisses to your temple, “Tell me to stop.”

You gave no response as you leaned into his touch, him never stopping, trying to restrain himself as he pressed his passion to your temples and cheeks, “Tell me to stop. I’ll never ask anything of you. Tell me you feel nothing for me.”

You gasped, it was too much, but you just wanted to press him closer to you. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, “Alfie..” you whispered.

He turned you around, whispering your name as he pulled you to his chest.

“Alfie?”, Ollie knocked on the door frame of the jewelry shop, concern, shame, and confusion thick in his throat.

Alfie shut his eyes tightly, and you feel the grip on your waist strengthen, “WHAT OLLIE?” He barked out, causing you to snort.

Ollie begins to stammer, “I- I’m sorry Alfie! It’s just uh… Mr. Shelby… he’s here.”

Alfie put his head onto your forehead muttering, “I’m going to fucking shoot him.”

Alfie guides you out of the door, and you can barely make out Alfie telling Ollie to start searching for another job.

Mr. Shelby looks incredibly comfortable in Alfie’s office. Before you can say hello to the man, Alfie butts in, “What the fuck do you want Tommy. You interrupted a very important meeting.”

Tommy smiled at you softly, then turning to Alfie, “Sorry Alfie, but this is about our club. I think you can make a little exception for me eh?”

Alfie just grumbled as he threw himself into his seat, using his pointer finger to direct you and Tommy to your seats. Tommy continued once he settled into his seat, “We’ve got an issue Alfie. Apparently, someone is not too happy about our little arrangement. And evidently… according to some sources… you roughed someone up last night. Which allegedly resulted in someone’s home going up in smoke.”

At this admission Tommy turned to look at you, “My condolences darling. Hope everyone is ok yeah?”

“Don’t look at my secretary. What the fuck are you talking about?” Alfie barks out.

Before turning back to Alfie, Tommy rolls his eyes and breathes in slowly, “Alfie. My men have gotten information that you, in all your wisdom, beat the living daylights out of some idiot. And that idiot, is the nephew of our good friend Mr. Sabini. Now, Mr. Sabini, was not just hurt that you nearly killed his nephew, but he was also hurt that your lovely secretary denied his nephew, and that we are working together, in direct competition with a bar he owns on the same street.”

Alfie felt his stomach drop.

He knew. He knew that it was somehow his fault. Because this is what happens isn’t it? Anytime he allows himself a small comfort or a small glimmer of a dream of something different, it hurts all those around him. It destroys them. It kills them. This time, he hoped it would have been different. That God maybe would have had mercy on him. Allowed him this tenderness. Found him worthy of you.

"Alfie?", you prodded gently. You had risen from your seat on the plush velvet couch to touch his shoulder. His whole body had tensed up at Tommy's admission of evidence. The admission was scary enough, to know that you put your family in danger for simply denying a man. But it wasn't Alfie's to feel guilt for. And you knew he was holding himself responsible. Because that's what he does. He carries the weight of everyone on his own shoulders. Under your touch you feel his muscle tighten and relax immediately. Alfie raised his eyes to stare back at Tommy, whose typically impassible face had the shadow of regret and concern underneath those cold eyes.

"Tommy. I'm not going to let this pass."

"I know you're not Alfie. I think the time has come for Sabini to be removed."

Alfie leans back into his seat, hands folded across his stomach. You removed yourself back to your seat, the real business needed air.

You had never met Mr. Sabini. But you had certainly heard of him. All the girls in your classes spoke about their own encounters with him. How he would corner them and say vulgar things, hoping to get an evening with them. You'd seen him in town on your laundry deliveries with Eli, and you always felt as though you needed to bathe after you locked eyes with him. Eli always walked in front of you, as if to announce that you weren't alone to be approached. And to know that his nephew was much of the same, and went as far as to punish those the way he did for denying him was a shock. The Sabinis had made themselves clear that they weren't above killing for disrespect.

And yet you feared more for the Sabini family than you did your own in this moment. You had seen Alfie be ruthless and loud. You had seen him scream to the point of men wetting themselves, and you had seen Alfie beat a man near death. But this Alfie... this Alfie made your blood run cold. Made you sweat underneath the lamp in the corner. He looked larger than normal. The muscles in his neck and arm twitching every so often. He was near silent. And when he did speak, it was low but rumbling. As if the plates of the earth were moving to the sound of his voice. This wasn't a meeting you took notes for. This was a meeting where the words soaked into your skin, into your bones as you listened to the methodical destruction of the Sabini company.

"Miss Abraham. Come here dear." Alfie called to you finally.

When you got to him, he brought you down to your level, whispering, "I want you to go with Ollie, and he is going to take you home. Go be with your family for the day, draw up some ideas for the gaming club for me alright?"

The way he whispered it so lowly, it was accepting no arguments, despite the fact it had not even reached lunch time yet. You nodded in assent, and he simply responded, "Good girl. I will see you tomorrow."

When you walked into the house, your mother was the only one home, placing the finishing touches on a dress to be picked up in the evening, "Oh darling! You're home early! You feeling alright? You look pale."

You shook your head, suddenly feeling a bit weak, "No mama I'm fine. My boss just heard about what happened and wanted me to go home."

"Mmm, well why don't you sit with me anyway."

You took a seat on the floor across from your mom. You had been sitting like this since you were a child. From playing dolls, to reading to her, to helping sew loose buttons on your family's shirts with her. It was where you gave your mother all your thoughts. All your fears and secrets. It was the confessional and threshing floor of all your worries.

Without looking up from her needlework your mother smoothly spoke, "That's quite a beautiful necklace darling. Did Mr. Solomons send you home with that as well?"

Your stomach dropped, and your hand flew to your chest.

You hadn't taken it off.

"Mama I-"

"My love how long did you think you were going to be able to keep up this ruse? You and I both know that lying is not your strong suit."

Your hands covered your face in embarrassment. "How long have you known?"

Your mother smiled, still not looking up from her work, "Oh since about the fourth week. You looked a little too giddy coming home the night before, so I assumed your boss was incredibly handsome. So I peeked out the window and saw him. I mean really darling did you even try?"

"Ugh... does Papa know?"

"Mmhmm. He was very cross for about two days, but I spoke with him."

"Are you still cross with me?"

It was only now that she stopped her steady work, "I'm only upset that you didn't feel as though you could trust me and your father. I understand darling, you wanted your independence and to figure things out for yourself. But we love you darling, and we want to know these things so we can just know you are ok."

You got closer to your mother, laying your head on her knees, "I just didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you to feel as though I was a burden."

"Oh hush." She said, smoothing out the hairs on your head, "You have never been a burden. And your troubles are never a burden. You need to believe that darling, you are not a burden to us. You don't need to shoulder everything on your own. Not when you have us."

You nodded, feeling the tears pool and gather on your mother's dress. The stress of the past 48 hours finally overcoming you. And you told her everything. About the day to day job. About the gaming club. About the fire. About Alfie. About what he made you feel.... you laid it all bare for your mother, who nodded and received it all. And you finally felt the weight of 1000 stones finally lift off your chest.

Back at the office, the room is full of smoke and two bottles of whiskey slowly depleting. Tommy and Alfie have drawn up a master plan of an offensive, a war to end it all. For 2 years they have dealt separately with Sabini. But to Alfie, this was a step too far. He targeted an innocent girl. His secretary. For what? To protect the 'honor' of a boy? It would not stand.

After the construction, Alfie and Tommy slumped in their chairs, mulling over the day. Thinking of everything to come.

"You love her don't you."

Alfie's eyes flicked to him, Tommy's cold eyes never shifting away , piercing him through the smokey haze. "None of your fucking business mate. She's just a good secretary. And a good girl. Doesn't deserve this."

"No. No a good secretary gets a raise every so often. A good secretary doesn't come into meetings and give advice. A good secretary doesn't get this protection Alfie."

Alfie didn't respond. Because if he did respond it would become real. It wouldn't just be something he could bury anymore. Once he said it, it would change everything. Tommy put out his cigarette, "You love that girl Alfie. That adds a whole new element to this game we are playing with."

"She is not a fucking pawn Tommy."

"Well to Sabini she is. Try as you might Alfie, that's what happens to men like us. Those we love turn into game pieces. This whole city is a fucking chess board."

"You are talking as if you're a god Tommy."

"And you are talking as if there is one to protect you, As if there is something to protect that girl."

"There is something to protect her you shit. It's me. I'll kill all of London before a single hair on her head is touched. That includes you mate, so don't talk to me about game pieces, or protection, or people dying alright? Because no matter what Sabini throws at us, not matter if this sick plan of our fails, no matter if all of London burns, I will make sure that she is safe!"

Tommy just smiles in the wake of Alfie's fury, lighting up another smoke, "And that is why I know we will not fail."

Taglist: @jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum @cookiez56-blog

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 4

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, 3.1k words

Warnings: talking about home fire, cursing, talking about trauma

A/N: Hi everyone! This chapter is a little different. It's more about developing our characters, understanding what exactly is going on, and setting it up for later events. I'm sorry if this isn't particularly exciting, but I feel like this was necessary for the storyline I'm going down? I don't know, if you guys have thoughts lemme know! As always, I love hanging out with you all on here. It is so much fun, and it's just a reprieve and joy. And if you're finding this for the first time hello!! If you want to catch the first parts just click the tags that say Interviews for New Beginnings, and itll all be there! I promise I'm going to make a masterlist! I just don't know how to hyperlink and it's stressing me out. Anyway I'm sorry I talk so much! Love you guys! - Mo

The tailor shop was not always your family’s tailor shop. When your mother and father first immigrated to Camden, it was the one shop that agreed to hire them. Mr. Kahn was the originator, an older gentleman with large round glasses, the most illustrious beard you’ve ever seen, and the most soothing voice. When he saw the the pitiful young couple that would one day be your parents, he not only opened the doors of his shop, but his arms and his heart and his home.

Your father had been a tailor by trade in his home country, and quickly picked up the new skills and tricks that Mr. Kahn had so generously gifted. Mr. Kahn had no children himself, and his whole family had to stay in his own country as well. Like two lonely ships at sea your parents and Mr. Kahn found each other, and built a a new family. He was there for the birth of you and Eli and your brother, and there for the arrival of your grandparents. And when he passed away, he gave the shop and the home above the shop to your family, his other family. In honor of Mr. Kahn, your father and uncle kept the name Kahn’s and Sons. Though people knew you weren’t the technical Kahn Sons, everyone gave their regards to the beautiful picture of Mr. Kahn that hung in the front. His bright and shining smile and twinkling eyes kept watch over the shop, your family, and anyone who crossed the threshold. Anyone who looked at the painting smiled, remembering his gentle voice and his grand laughter.

That painting is the only thing that survives the flames.

As the sky turns a pale white, all that can be heard above the shocked voice and the rises smoke are the screams and wails of your mother, screaming and asking God why why why? Your aunt and grandmother holding her and weeping as well, praying and begging for an answer. You sister Esther on your hip keeps whispering, “What happened? What happened to our store sissy?”

And you have no answer. You have nothing in your chest but a numb buzzing, and acid in your throat. You feel hot hot tears making canyons in the ash that covers your face. You see Eli, your father, uncle, brother, grandfather, and other neighbors trying to move out any molten machines from the wreckage. When you make eye contact with Eli, he just shakes his head, tears having wiped the majority of the ash away. He looks at you as if yo say, “I don’t even know why we keep looking.”

Esther begins to cry, the smoke bothering her eyes, and you just begin to rock her and walk down the street to take her away from the wreckage. No child should have to see something so horrible as this.

People begin to stop and ask what happened. Who did this? Why Kahn’s? Why your father’s shop? You just walked past them. How would you know? How could anyone know? All you knew is that your sister was crying and coughing too hard. You just needed to get away. You just needed to get away. Just away.

On the other side of Camden, Alfie Solomons walks in to the office, after a long night of praying and bargaining for his secretary to be at her desk when he came in.

Despite his pleas, he is not surprised to see that her desk has been untouched, the stove has not been lit, and the air is too cold to breathe in. He rubs his face roughly, more for punishment than for comfort, and caresses the calendar on the abandoned desk, before tenderly picking it up and taking it to his own desk. Alfie found himself soon flipping through those wrinkled and pressed pages. Noticing the arrows and tiny scribbles on your near penmanship. As he further explores he finds himself chuckling lowly at the small characters of Tommy, Ollie, and even him and Cyril. He notes the repetition of his own name, with a small delicate heart over the i. He nearly completely smudges away the small heart with his tracings when Ollie knocks him back to Camden, “Uhm Alfie…”

“What?”

And that’s when he noticed it… the silence. There were people in the bakery, same amount as usual all doing what the need to do. But he heard… nothing. It was silent. All he could hear were the scuffing thuds of work boots against worn down floor boards, and the moaning creaks of barrels being turned over. Alfie got up from his desk, brushed passed Ollie to look at his men. But they weren’t his men. These were phantoms wearing the clothes of his men. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”

Ollie tenderly stepped behind Alfie, “Alfie… there was a fire last night…”

The blood in his heart immediately froze. His lungs shrank in his chest, and the air was suddenly sucked out of the room. “Where?” Alfie asked, though he already knew.

“Kahn’s… Alfie it’s scorched.”

Alfie couldn’t even finish listening. He had to go. He had to go. Damn the secrecy. Damn what your family knew or didn’t know. Damn what the men would think, seeing him run to see if his w… secretary was hurt. That didn’t matter. The Mad Baker be damned. “Ollie. Get the car. Grab two men from downstairs. We’re going to Kahn’s now. NOW!”

Though the drive to your home from the office was merely 20 minutes, a drive he knew well, it felt as though it took years off his life. The closer the car got, the denser the crowds of people were. The more clearly he could see the dissipating smoke and ash.

When Alfie was a young child, he struggled with fear. Thunder sent him under the covers, loud fights sent him behind his mothers skirts. The dark petrified him, necessitating two candles to defend him from nightmares. This fear followed him through childhood until he was 10, when he was assigned to give a small speech in front of his class. Poor young Alfie Solomons, so terrified of the 20 pairs of eyes that stared at him, that he threw up. He fled in tears away from the gasps and laughter, and back into the arms of his mother. There he wept profusely, embarrassed but mostly angry about how cowardly he thought of himself. His mother, hushing and consoling him, was broken-hearted at her son’s agony. Her only child. Her pride and joy. “Ahhh varóbushik. You know… it is not bad to be afraid… fear is not a sin my love.”

His eyes, ocean like in his tears looked up at his mother, “But I need to be brave. Like papa was.”

She smiled softly, “Mm yes papa was very brave. But you know… bravery isn’t the absence of fear… no it’s… it’s surviving even when you are afraid. It’s doing what you are afraid of even when you are scared. That is brave. You are brave every day my sweet Alfie.”

Alfie curled closer to his mother’s side, rocking and swaying with her as she continued to stroke his unruly hair, “Alfie, I have a trick for when I’m scared. I used it when I was leaving my home country.”

Alfie looked up, hopeful for a spell or a tool to keep him from fear, “What is it mama?”

“I let myself be afraid for 10 seconds. I count backwards from ten, and let my body feel the fear. And with every breath, and every number, and release that fear. By the time I get to 1, I am no longer afraid. I push through it. If you can manage to push through to 1 every time… I think you will find that you can do anything my darling boy.”

Alfie nodded, and resolved to always make it to 1. Even as a Captain in the war, right before the charge, as he saw the enemy approaching, he started the count. He always made it to 1, and always won.

But the counting wasn’t working now. In the car to Kahn’s and Sons Alfie couldn’t make it past 5 before his mind fled to you, wondering why hadn’t seen you in the crowd yet. Why he hadn’t heard your voice above the engine of the car yet. Why he hadn’t heard you call for him yet.

The sick in his stomach almost made its way out of his mouth when he saw what was left of Kahn’s and Sons. The emerald green wood of the front had been destroyed, leaving a festering and open wound. The windows of the above apartment had been blown out, and he could see and smell charred wall paper and clothing. Anything that could be salvaged was already, piled up in a pathetic little hill to the side. The fire department had long left, the police wouldn’t be there for another day, and the neighbors could only hold who Alfie assumed to be your family, as they wept.

“Mr. Solomons?”

Alfie turned swiftly, as if he was afraid to miss your phantom’s last moments on Earth. But you were there, solid. As solid as the ask caked to your face. He willed his arms to stay at his side, so as not to crush you in his arms, or embarrass you. Your eyes begged him to say something, to say anything. To make sense of this. The fire. His presence. Your position. But what was he to say? What role is he to play in this? Esther looked at Alfie curiously her reddened cheeks pursued together, “Are you sissy’s boss?”

A million words could’ve been dictated from the stare you gave him. They can’t know… not now. Not like this. Alfie just smiled softly at Esther, “No little bird, I’m just a neighbor. Your sister’s boss is has an office near mine. But I hear she is a very smart sister. Is that right?”

Esther giggled and nodded, proceeding to babble at Alfie, competing with him in amount of words that could fall out of the human mouth. You couldn’t help but stare at this scene. The smoke and horror seemed to wash away, and all you could see is Alfie and Esther. Esther finally smiling after a night of pain. Alfie chuckling and playing with a small child, speaking with Esther as an equal. Teaching her a clapping game and asking her questions about her favorite dolls. It felt too natural. Too sweet and real and too tangible. It felt as if it was a window to a life you could have and wanted so badly but will never have. It was too much. Your strangled inhale brings Alfie’s eyes to yours, but before he can say anything of comfort your fathers voice booms over, “Mr. Solomons! My daughters are of no concern of yours! What could you possibly take from us at this time? Have you no compassion? No human decency!”

Your father pushed between you and Alfie, a formidable blockade. Alfie mad no move, essentially chest to chest with your father, staring right into his eyes. “Shalom sir. Was checking if the rumors were true. It’s a shame.”

“It is a shame, now please leave. There is nothing more you could take from us. This city is over run with your like, killing and blowing each other up, and what about us hmm?? We take the shrapnel. We either pay your protection fees and starve with a slightly better chance at surviving the blowbacks? Or we save our money to feed our children, and still suffer the consequences of your war? Now Mr. Solomons what more can you take from us?”

It was no longer a question where you got your mouth from. Your father was old, but in his eyes you saw the anger and fire of his youth, of a man out through war. Alfie typically wouldn’t allow this, by anyone. But frankly, what little memories Alfie had of his own father, he saw in yours. And he couldn’t help but feel as though this fire was his fault. Maybe if he hadn’t fought with you yesterday, this fire wouldn’t have happened.

Alfie swallowed down any regret of the night before. The time was not for regret. The time was for solutions. And if Alfie wanted to be a part of the solution, he needed to speak to your father. As businessmen, “Mr. Abraham. I am sorry for your loss. Despite your reservations, you still live in Camden. And as a resident of Camden right? You live under Solomons protection. Now this right here? This is wrong. And I’m going to personally right, see to it that it is resolved.”

Your father began to bristle at this, “The police will do an investigation. We don’t need a gangster mucking about.”

Alfie chuckled, “You know the police won’t do a fucking thing about this. They don’t care about these sort of things they’re in everyone’s purse. Fuck, some of them are in mine.”

“I will not be indebted to another tyrant.”

Your free hand flew to your fathers shoulder, “Papa please… if you won’t allow a mitzvah… please just… just speak business with Mr. Solomons.”

Your father turned to you, “This is none of your concern! Please go to your mother immediately!”

But you stood your ground, “Mr. Solomons is offering you a solution papa! You are impeding a solution and the possibility help and a necessary alliance! And for what?! Pride?! Look at this! We have nothing! The shop is destroyed and we out home is burnt! What other solution could you possibly have?”

Your father just stared at you, mouth open, the emotions of the day washing over him. It was true. There was no other choice. And you were too old for him to be able to shield you from that reality. You clutched a shocked Esther closer to your side, “Papa… just… listen to what Mr. Solomons has to say… He is a business man. He can be reasonable, that’s what people say.”

Your father looked at you, and in that moment he saw you as you fully were. No longer that small child that sat with him until the late hours listening to him read. Not the little girl who cried about hurt birds who didn’t have a papa to take care of them. But a full woman. A whole woman with a firm mind and kind heart and strong temper. In an instant he felt the joy of watching his child, the mourning of losing his little girl, and the wonder of who you became seemingly overnight. He nodded, and turned back to Alfie, who was hiding his smile underneath an unkempt beard. Your father straightened and said, “Well Mr. Solomons. What are your proposed terms for such a partnership?”

Your father proved to be a shrewd businessman, nitpicking with Alfie over every detail in this partnership, which according to the terms would be reviewed every 6 months, with an option of either side to cancel the business relationship at those meetings. But Alfie knew he was never going to be the one to cancel it, as long as it kept him tied to you. You were the assigned scribe to the terms, which you fell easily into like walking. Mr. Solomons would provide housing to you and your family for the time it took to repair your family's home. The home was a block away from his office and home, providing easier access and protection for your family while an investigation was to take place. The investigation, Alfie insisted, would be conducted by his own men, and any policemen in his purse. Alfie insisted to your father that this was more for his own benefit than your father's, as it would solidify his position as the protector and the owner of Camden town. Your father acquiesed to Alfie's demand that the perpetrator would be dealt with in his own way, not involving the actual legal system.

Kahn's and Sons would be repaired and restocked through the use of Solomons men and contacts, which would be completed within in the next two months. Upon the finished construction, two men would be on guard of the shop during the day and night, reduced to one man upon the capture of the man who committed the act. Payment for the housing, rebuilding, and protection would be based on the services of Mr. Abraham and his family. Information obtained during client conversations, as well as tailoring and laundry services necessitated by the entirety of the Solomons Company. Services would be traded according to the going rate of Kahn and Sons prices. And upon the equitable exchange, Solomons laundry and tailoring services would then be discounted at a 45% rate. At the end of the negotiation, both men shook hands, both fighting to keep pleased looks off their faces and keep the air of solemnity and certainty and expectance.

As soon as their hands released, they nodded and gave Shalom, with your father giving directions to his own family, and Alfie barking orders to Ollie and his men. You stayed firmly planted next to Alfie, Esther being taken by your father. You looked at him quizically saying to him, "That is the most generous offer you have ever given in your life."

Alfie gruffed, "You hardly have standing to say that seeing as you only been working with me for 7 months."

"Am I still employed?"

"You better. Or else the entire office is going to shit. Ollie is moping. I can't read your handwriting. And you messed everything up in my office I can't find anything."

You smirked, "I told you, you need new glasses and your office was a pig pen. You should be thanking me profusely."

Alfie just grumbled. He would never admit that the way you spoke to him now made him feel better than he had in the past 12 hours. You allowed your fingers to brush his and the rings stacked on them, "Thank you Alfie.", you let out in a whisper, not looking at him.

He took a quick breath in at the contact, immediately craving more. But he bristled out instead, "For what?"

Your eyes remained planted at the dirt on your shoes, "For coming. For... checking in."

Alfie gently brushed his finger tips against the top of your hands, hanging by your sides, the closest he could get to holding your hands, "I had to. Now get over there, your mother keeps looking over Eli's shoulder. I'll meet you all where you'll be staying."

You nodded, cheeks and hands hot, "Yes Alfie. Shalom."

"Shalom Darling."

Tag List: @jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum

why can’t things be easy peasy lemon squeezy

Mo's Masterlist

Howdy friends! A very kind anon suggested a master list, because all the parts to 'Interviews for New Beginnings' is all scattered, and they are right! So I apologize to everyone who has been trying to find them! But here they are! And the other little drabble I wrote. ANYWAY IM SORRY I TALK SO MUCH LOVE YOU GUYS also i just figured out how to do hyperlinks i am literally so ecstatic

Interviews for New Beginnings - Out of options, your cousin finally is able to get you a job with THE Alfie Solomons, as his personal secretary. This is your last shot at real independence and being the woman you're meant to be. But what happens when new feelings emerge, and you're brought deeper into this job than you anticipated?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

One Shots

A Brother for Cyril - Once again, Tommy Shelby manipulates the situation for his own benefit... and Alfie's irritation

A Brother for Cyril: Part 2 - Time to introduce the boys to each other!

Kisses for Bad Days - Alfie always know how to turn your low moments around