“They’re coming for us, Pol,” Tommy said, his voice a low rasp as he gathered the family at Small Heath. The glamour of their country estates was gone, replaced by the grit of the streets where they first bled for their crown.
The fog over Birmingham wasn’t just coal smoke and rain anymore; it tasted like copper and old grudges. “They’re coming for us, Pol,” Tommy said, his
Thomas Shelby sat in his study, the glow of a single amber lamp illuminating the letter on his desk. It was a Christmas card, festive and bright, but the black hand stamped inside turned the holiday cheer into a death warrant. The Vendetta had arrived. Luca Changretta was no longer a name whispered in the docks of New York; he was a ghost haunting the Midlands, and he wanted every Shelby soul for the sins of the past. Thomas Shelby sat in his study, the glow
The war for the soul of the Shelby Company Limited had begun, and by the time the snow fell, the blood on the ground would never truly wash away. Luca Changretta was no longer a name whispered