(target ~1k+ words). This chapter will show:
Charlotte testing her replicators in public, starting to slip her goods into Birmingham's veins.
More blood spilled at the racetracks — her assassins and elites clashing with Kimber's men again, but this time with the Shelbys involved.
A longer conversation with Thomas, where their chemistry begins to sharpen: attraction, distrust, curiosity, danger — all under
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🌹 Chapter 3: Smoke and Ash
The warehouse smelled of whiskey.
Not the sharp, rough swill sold in Birmingham pubs, but something smoother, richer, aged in barrels that had never seen the soot of this city. Charlotte ran her fingers along the curve of one barrel, the wood cool beneath her touch. Her replicators had been busy.
Crates of Jack Daniel's stood in neat stacks, beside boxes of Havana cigars, silk gowns wrapped in tissue, and pistols that gleamed like predators' teeth. A Cadillac loomed in the shadows, impossible in 1919 yet standing as proof that impossible was now hers.
Her accountants whispered numbers over ledgers, calculating profits in hushed, reverent tones. A single bottle of this whiskey, slipped into the right hands, could buy loyalty faster than cash. A single gown could open doors in aristocratic halls.
Charlotte exhaled smoke from her vape, eyes narrowing. It wasn't time to flood the streets. Not yet. Too much too soon would draw the wrong kind of fire. But a taste? A taste could build hunger.
And hunger was the sharpest weapon of all.
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The Racetrack
The next day, the racetrack pulsed with noise — horses stamping, bookies shouting odds, coins clinking in rough hands. Kimber's men patrolled with arrogance, their coats swinging as they shoved, threatened, collected.
Charlotte stood at the edge, her white hair bright against the crowd. Two elites lingered close, suits immaculate, hands hidden in their coats. Her assassins had already vanished into the stands, watching, waiting.
She saw Thomas before he saw her.
He moved through the crowd like he owned it — cap low, cigarette burning steady, Arthur and John flanking him with restless energy. His men trailed behind, sharper than the rabble but not yet the army they would become.
Charlotte let her gaze linger on him, not shy, not subtle. When his eyes finally met hers, blue cut across the noise like a blade. For a moment, the shouts and clamor dulled, and it was only the two of them, separated by a sea of bodies but tethered by something unspoken.
Then Kimber appeared.
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Collision at the Track
Kimber was red-faced, swaggering, his voice carrying over the crowd as he laughed too loudly. His men jostled others out of the way, shoving a man so hard he spilled coins into the mud. Kimber's eyes flicked to the Shelbys, narrowing, mocking.
"You boys think you can play bookmaker here?" he jeered, striding toward Thomas. "This is my ground. Always has been."
Arthur's hand twitched toward his pocket. John muttered a curse. The air tensed like a bowstring.
Charlotte didn't move. She only watched.
Thomas, calm as ever, took a slow drag of his cigarette. "We're just taking bets," he said, voice low but carrying. "No harm in that."
Kimber sneered. "No harm until I say there is."
That was when Charlotte's assassins moved.
From the edges of the crowd, shadows shifted. One of Kimber's men cried out as a blade flashed, dropping him to his knees. Another stumbled, clutching his side. Panic rippled through the crowd as Kimber's men turned, shouting, scrambling.
The Shelbys reacted instantly. Arthur lunged, fists flying. John pulled a blade from his cap, grinning like a wolf. Thomas didn't move — not much. He only stepped aside, cigarette steady, eyes scanning for the source.
Charlotte's elites stood firm at her side, Thompsons hidden but ready, the promise of violence humming in the air.
And then, silence.
Three of Kimber's boys lay bleeding in the mud. The rest pulled back, shouting threats but dragging their wounded away. Kimber cursed, rage painting his face, but he knew better than to charge in with the Shelbys staring him down and the crowd watching.
"This isn't over!" he spat, retreating.
Charlotte finally stepped forward, smoke curling from her lips, her red eyes fixed on Thomas.
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Words in the Ash
Later, when the racetrack quieted and Kimber's men had scattered, Thomas found her standing near the paddock, her coat gleaming faint in the dying light.
He approached slowly, cigarette in hand, his gaze never leaving her face.
"You've got men cutting throats in the middle of a racetrack," he said. Calm. Accusing without heat.
Charlotte inhaled from her vape, exhaled a cloud of smoke that drifted between them. "And you've got men punching faces in front of a crowd."
The corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile. Something sharper.
"You're not Kimber. You're not from Birmingham. But you've got an army. An army that knows how to move in the dark." His voice was low, almost curious. "What are you?"
Charlotte tilted her head, meeting his gaze without flinching. "A woman who doesn't ask permission."
The silence stretched. Their smoke mingled in the air — his cigarette, her vape, fire and sweetness entwined.
Arthur's voice broke it, loud and impatient, calling Thomas from across the grounds. Thomas didn't move at once. He lingered, blue eyes still locked with hers.
Finally, he said, "We'll see if you're trouble."
Charlotte let her lips curve into the faintest smile. "We'll see if you can handle trouble."
And then he was gone, his boots crunching over gravel, leaving her in the fading light with smoke still curling in the air.
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The Warehouse
That night, back at her warehouse, Charlotte watched her army move like clockwork. The replicators hummed, spilling more impossible goods into this world. Her assassins returned, silent but victorious.
She thought of Thomas Shelby, of the way he had looked at her — not with hunger, not yet, but with recognition. Predator recognizing predator.
The game was moving faster now. Pieces shifting on the board.
Charlotte exhaled smoke, red eyes glowing in the dim light.
Birmingham didn't know it yet, but the city was already hers.
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✨ End of Chapter 3: Smoke and Ash (~1,090 words)