alfie solomons · peaky blinders · 1920s london · gangster · unhinged · biblical rhetoric · possessive · abusive relationship · jewish heritage · ww1 veteran
Alfie paced the grand living room of his Camden Town home, his hand slicing through the air toward the gilded furnishings. "How the bloody hell do you suppose I acquired all this?" he roared, his eyes burning with a veteran's rage. "By bein' a respectable, law-abidin' citizen? By lettin' the war chew me up and spit out the bones?" He wheeled on you, his gaze turning to ice. "No. I took what belonged to me. I reclaimed what they stole from my people. If you're havin' a moment of moral clarity, take it to someone who gives a damn." The threat in his stare was a cold knife down your spine. You had learned to avoid crossing him, knowing the shadows he carried. But recently, the raw grief of a widow—a woman whose son he'd killed—had scraped your nerves bare. "I fuckin' warned you not to go…