Chapter 9: Wolves and Rats
The room smelled of damp wood and stale smoke, the sort of scent Birmingham seemed to wear like a second skin. Alexander sat alone in the upstairs boarding house,
his chair tilted back on two legs, a cigar balanced at the corner of his mouth. Before him, a map of the city sprawled across the table, its streets traced in pencil, marked with Xs and circles — a battlefield in waiting.
The lamp hissed faintly, its light barely keeping back the dark.
Then came the familiar chime.
[Ding! System Analysis Activated]
Warning: Subject "Larson" has initiated manipulation protocol.
Target: Thomisia Shelby.
Objective: Secure Shelby Family intelligence through emotional compromise.
Alexander's eyes narrowed, though his face stayed calm. "So the rat finally makes his move."
[Correction: He's nibbling at the cheese. Your cheese.]
Alexander snorted smoke. "Bloody cheeky system."
[Would you like to witness a possible betrayal scenario?]
The system didn't wait for an answer. The map blurred into a smoky vision: Thomisia, jaw clenched but eyes uncertain, met Larson in a narrow back alley. His hand brushed hers lightly. His voice was a whisper, dripping poison, promises of power, of safety, of recognition beyond Alexander's shadow. Thomisia's lips parted, not in refusal — but silence.
Then, the sound of a gunshot. Alexander collapsed in the vision, crimson blooming across his shirt, Thomisia frozen between grief and guilt. Larson vanished into the smoke.
The vision snapped shut.
[Likelihood of Event: 42% and rising.]
Alexander exhaled through his nose. "Dramatic. Almost had me fooled."
[You think this is a joke?]
"Everything's a joke until the last laugh," he said, flicking ash onto the table.
The system went quiet for a beat, then:
[Side Quest Unlocked: "Cage the Rat." Objective: Secure Thomisia Shelby's loyalty before Larson poisons her heart. Reward: 2,000kg of prime white-gold cocaine stock.]
Alexander raised a brow. "You're bribing me with cocaine now?"
[Correction: motivating you with financial opportunity.]
He chuckled, low and sharp. "Fine. If the rat wants a game, I'll give him one. But first—let's see how the family plays their hand."
The Shelby Family Meeting
The Garrison pub smelled of beer and dust, though tonight it was quieter than usual. The heavy oak table in the back room was crowded. Arthur leaned against the wall, glass in hand, his eyes bloodshot. John sat opposite, restless as ever, tapping his fingers against the wood. Polly, sharp as broken glass, sat with her cigarette perched between her lips. Ada leaned back, unimpressed as always.
And then there was Thomisia. Center seat. Shoulders straight, chin lifted, her sharp gaze flickering like a blade.
When Alexander entered, silence rolled through the room like smoke. He didn't say a word, just pulled up a chair and sat, his dark coat heavy across his shoulders, eyes calm but unreadable.
"About time," Arthur muttered, though his tone lacked heat.
Thomisia's gaze fixed on Alexander. "We're deciding whether to trust you, Romano. Whether you're a partner… or a problem."
Alexander leaned back, cigar still lit. He said nothing. Just met her eyes.
That silence — it pressed on the room until John muttered, "Bloody hell, man, say something."
Polly cut in. "No. Let him sit. A man's silence tells more than his words."
Thomisia's lips curved slightly, though not in amusement. "You're a quiet one, aren't you? Always watching. Always judging. But quiet men are the hardest to read. And the hardest to trust."
Alexander exhaled smoke, finally speaking, his voice calm and low. "Trust isn't given, Shelby. It's taken. Or it's broken."
Arthur gave a grunt of approval. John raised a brow. Ada rolled her eyes.
But Thomisia leaned forward, elbows on the table. "And which do you plan to do with us? Take… or break?"
The room went tense. Alexander let the silence stretch until the system whispered in his head:
[Careful. She's probing you. This is the rat's window.]
Alexander smirked faintly. "Neither. I plan to build. You've got fire, Shelby. But fire burns out if there's nothing to feed it. I'll bring the fuel."
Arthur squinted. "Fuel?"
Alexander tapped the table map he'd brought, sliding it across. "Money. Men. Markets you can't even spell yet. White-gold so pure it makes diamonds look like gravel. That's my fuel. You want to rule Birmingham? I'll make sure the world knows your name while you do it."
Thomisia's eyes flickered, just for a second. That was all Alexander needed to see. Doubt. Conflict.
Polly leaned forward. "And what do you want in return?"
Alexander smiled thinly. "What every man wants. A seat at the table. And loyalty. Real loyalty. Not to a name, but to results."
The words lingered.
John finally chuckled. "Bloody hell, I like him."
Arthur grunted, "He's mad, but he's right."
Thomisia, though, wasn't swayed so easily. She stood, circling the table, heels clicking on the wood floor. She stopped behind Alexander, voice low but sharp. "And what if your results cost us? What if your silence hides knives? What if you're just another man who thinks he can use us?"
Alexander didn't move, didn't look back. "Then you'll kill me."
The bluntness of it stole the room's air. Even Polly blinked.
Alexander leaned forward, finally setting his cigar down. "But before you try, you'll ask yourself if you'd rather have me dead, or the rat in your bed whispering in your ear. And by then, it'll be too late."
The silence that followed was heavier than gunfire.
Thomisia froze — just for a breath. His words had cut close. Too close.
The system chimed softly.
[Nice. Direct hit. Rat probability dropping to 31%.]
Alexander finally stood, coat flaring behind him. He gave a short nod to Arthur, John, Polly, Ada — and then one last look at Thomisia. No smile, no threat. Just silence.
Then he left.
Thomisia's Thoughts
Back in the smoky quiet of the pub, Thomisia sat alone long after the others had left. Larson's voice still lingered in her memory, soft and insidious, promising her control, power without shadows.
But Alexander's words… "the rat in your bed whispering in your ear"… burned like fire.
For the first time in years, she felt herself hesitate.
And that, more than anything, frightened her.