Irina thought the last thing on Earth she wanted to do was approach Thomas Shelby asking for his help, but since their phone call, she came to realise than the actual last thing on Earth she wanted to do was ask Alfie Solomons for help.

She was alone in London, and she always had been. It had never been a problem for Irina, who thrived off of her independent nature and felt most comfortable in her own company, and up until then, she had never needed anybody's help for anything.

However, the day had come. After checking with the head of her offices in Liverpool, she had discovered that over thirty-thousand pounds had been stolen from the vaults, but the factory had been left untouched.

Irina had taken a day to mull over the advice Tommy had given her. She didn't want to ask Alfie for his help, she didn't even want to see his face, but the worry that perhaps the robbery of the vault in Liverpool was just the beginning was eating away at her viciously. Irina's pride and joy was her business, her entire life was her business and it's success, so the idea of having her empire torn down was simply terrifying to her.

It was midday when Irina ventured out of her office, following the length of the canal a short distance down from her building. It was still sunny for early September, but dark clouds over the horizon in the distance gave Irina an ominous feeling as she walked alone.

She approached Alfie's offices, removing her sunglasses and sliding them into her handbag as she waited by the door, peering inside into what looked like an endless, black corridor.

"Can I help you?"

"Ollie, isn't it?" Irina smiled at the dark haired young man that appeared out of what seemed like thin air.

"Yes," he nodded, a shyness in his voice and stature that reminded Irina of Kristian, "Is there something you need?"

"I need to speak with Mr Solomons, is he available?"

"He's a very busy man, he usually only takes meetings that have been arranged in advanced. I can take a look at his diary and see if I can fit you in later this week?"

Irina smiled at him, knowing he was shaking in his boots at having to use authority towards a woman like herself. His eye contact was scattered and he repeatedly scratched the back of his neck or twisted the collar of his shirt, but Irina didn't mind, in fact, she found it quite adorable.

"Could you ask him, please? Tell him it's Irina Zakharov, and it's rather urgent."

"I'll see what I can do."

Ollie nodded and disappeared with his head down into the black corridor, walking so fast it seemed like his feet were moving quicker than the rest his body could keep up with.

Irina stood alone for a while, picking at the skin around her nails and eavesdropping on what turned out to be incredibly dull conversations between men loading crates of stock onto canal boats behind her.

"What's a gorgeous woman like you doing hanging around Camden?"

Irina turned around to find a sweaty gentleman dressed in trousers that were rolled up at the legs and an open white dress shirt, oil staining the front of it and red suspenders hanging down from his waist. He was handsome, dark black hair slicked back with strands falling across his face, deep brown eyes that made him look dangerous, but in an intriguing way.

"I'm here to see Alfie." She replied, looking him up and down as he did the same to her.

"Yeah? What about?"

She scoffed, crossing her arms, "None of your business."

"None of my business," he mused, a confident smirk on his lips, "Can you at least tell me your name?"

"Her name is 'fuck off'," a thudding of heavy boots came from the corridor and a surge of electricity illuminated it dimly, lights casting an orange shadow down the hallway as Alfie strode towards them, "Leave her alone and get back to work before I fucking sack you, alright?"

The gentleman rolled his eyes, giving Irina a sly wink before jogging back over to the men by the canal boats, leaving Alfie stood glaring with daggers going into his back.

"Fucking prick," Alfie mumbled, shaking his head, "You alright? You look a lot better."

Irina wasn't sure how she'd expected Alfie to act when they saw each other for the first time again. It had been over a month and although she found herself not thinking about him as often as she once had, the paper bag of groceries on her doorstep once a week had made it harder for her to forget him completely.

She had half expected Alfie to fall to his knees and beg one last time for them to rekindle things, but then she realised that there was more chance of him going to Heaven when he died than that happening.

"Yeah," she said after taking a second to compose herself, "I'm doing better. Thank you for the food, I probably wouldn't have gone to the shop myself that first week, so that means a lot."

"I know you wouldn't have gone," he said bluntly, looking at her with empty eyes, "That's why I went for you. Come on, I've just boiled the kettle."

Irina followed Alfie down the hallway, feeling confused at how his words were kind but his body language and eyes were cold. She wasn't used to seeing him like this, not recently anyway. He reminded her of how he was when they first met, unfiltered and raw, she had almost forgotten that his bluntness was one of the things that had made her fall for him in the first place.

Sat with one leg crossed over the other, Irina gazed around Alfie's office as she heard him crashing around with cups and saucers in a room to the side. He had never been an elegant man, his large hands making anything he did seem clumsy, but she did feel as though when he touched her, it was the only time he was ever poetic.

"Probably fucking cold now it took me that long to find a cup, here you go."

Irina thanked Alfie as he handed her the cup of tea, giving him a small smile before he sat down opposite her, the leather of his weathered chair creaking as he leant back, clasping his hands together with his elbows on the desk.

"I hear your vault in Liverpool has been broken into, that right?"

Alfie was glad to see Irina looking healthier. The last time he laid eyes on her, he struggled to remember how she looked before losing the concerning amount of weight, but now, seeing her eyes look that little bit brighter and her cheeks with a healthy, rosy glow, he remembered exactly how she used to look.

It had taken every ounce of strength Alfie had to stay away from Irina after he walked out of her home. The first day was the hardest, feeling a writhing pain burning inside him constantly after telling her he loved her. The second day, he got drunk in his office and ended up crying himself to sleep on the sofa in the corner, being woken up by Ollie in the morning without a clue as to what had happened. It was then on the third day that Alfie decided enough was enough. He knew that he and Irina were over, and so like everything in life, he had to get over it. Unable to dismiss how much he cared and worried still for her, the guilt of what he'd done to her feeling suffocating, Alfie decided he'd leave a bag of groceries for her on her doorstep once a week. It put his mind at ease knowing she was eating something if he left the food for her, since he was almost certain that without his help, even if only from afar, she'd only continue to spiral out of control.

"How did you know that?" Irina said, drinking some of her tea.

Alfie shrugged, "Word travels fast in our community."

"You know him?" She asked.

"Know who?"

Irina rolled her eyes and placed her cup down on his desk, folding her arms in irritation.

"What do you mean who? You said word travels fast in your community."

Alfie narrowed his eyes at her, "I said our community. The fucking alcohol distillery industry. Why, who are you talking about?"

Irina kissed her teeth and looked to the side, frustrated at Alfie but also trying hard to hold back a smile as she felt like she'd suddenly been transported back in time to when they first met, his tongue being in competition to be sharper than hers, both of them with a temper and wit like fire.

"One of my men found a business card with the name Joseph Levy on. Do you know him?"

"Know him?" Alfie let out a laugh, stretching his arms high above his head, "I fucking despise the bastard, tried to do my business over a few years ago so I stabbed his fucking brother in the neck and he left me alone after that."

"Did he die?"

Alfie looked at Irina, brows furrowed together and his shoulders raised, "Of course he fuckin' died, I don't stab someone to keep 'em alive."

Alfie could tell Irina was biting the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling. She had always been just as good as him at keeping a straight, intimidating face, in fact she was probably better at it than him, but it warmed his heart to see the tiny twitch at the corners of her mouth, knowing that he had made her smile, even if it was only on the inside.

She sighed loudly and scratched the back of her neck, pulling her hair around one shoulder, "As humiliating as this is, I need to ask for your help. I need that £30,000 back."

Alfie pursed his lips in thought, "Yeah? And what do I get out of this? £10,000?"

Irina laughed loudly in disbelief, "No chance."

Alfie observed the way her eyes lit up and her cheeks lifted when she laughed, admiring the way she shook her head with a grin, finding himself getting lost in his imagination for a tender, treasurable moment that felt like one they'd shared when they were happy.

"How about this," he cleared his throat and leant forward on the desk, his head tilted down so their eyes met, "Once you gain back the weight you lost, you give me a call and I will take you out to the fanciest restaurant in London where they do a tiramisu you'd go absolutely feral for. As friends, of course."

He wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence had come from, but he found himself hearing the words he was speaking before he could give it another moment of thought. There was a twang of possible regret that echoed in his chest for a split second, but as he looked into her eyes that once felt like home to him, he saw the way she narrowed them in the same playful way she used to do, and he knew then that he was safe.

"Do we have a deal, Miss Zakharov?" Alfie said, a smirk on his lips as he extended his hand to her.

She looked down at his hand before looking back up to his eyes, her heart fluttering at the way he gazed at her so intently. Irina had panicked initially, feeling herself tracing back over old memories that resurfaced one at a time with each word Alfie said to her, scared that she was dancing with a past that should've been buried, but the glint in his eyes and the roughness of his mischievous smile reassured her that whatever she felt, he felt too.

Clasping his hand with her own, Irina squeezed it, shaking it with a firm, professional smile on her face.

"We have a deal, Mr Solomons."

an;;
hii!! I hope you're still enjoying this story, I know it's kinda all over the place but I absolutely love writing it and I'm so grateful for all the support! thank u so much🧡