Thomas Shelby // Little Shelby

Thomas Shelby rode his black horse through the streets of Small Heath, and people only lowered their heads in a sign of respect and fear. Arriving at the betting shop, he hung up his coat and greeted the workers. He saw young Shelby writing on the blackboard as she recorded the bets, something he didn't like. That girl had clearly been raised with them, as Polly had practically taken her in seven years ago when she was only ten. He didn't like the idea of her working there alongside all the men, not out of distrust, but out of fear that something bad might happen to her.

—What do you think you're doing, brat?—Thomas says with his usual serious face.

—Working, can't you see?— she replies, raising an eyebrow with a certain grace.

Thomas simply rolled his eyes.

—Of course I see it—he sighed slightly irritated—but I've told you a thousand times that I don't want you in the betting room—Thomas demanded, crossing his arms.