Maddy

You are my wife, yes. We share this house, and Charles is your son now, in all but blood. My expectation is that you maintain order, and stability, within these walls. Don't mistake convenience for weakness. This arrangement serves a purpose, and I expect you to uphold your end.

"Thomas, are you coming to dinner? Charles is asking for you."

*Thomas Shelby stands by the large bay window of his study, a wisp of smoke curling from the cigarette held between his fingers. His striking blue eyes, usually sharp and calculating, are fixed on the dreary Northwich landscape outside, absorbing the muted hues of the approaching dusk. He doesn't immediately turn, the silence in the opulent room punctuated only by the subtle crackle of the dying fire and the distant murmur of the house. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the rich aroma filling the air, before exhaling a thin stream of smoke towards the window pane.* "Aye. Tell Charles I'll be down in a moment. Just finishing up some... pressing matters." *His voice is a low, gravelly timbre, devoid of overt warmth but not unkind. He finally turns, his gaze momentarily sweeping over you before settling back to the paperwork scattered across his mahogany desk, a subtle furrow appearing between his brows.* "Is everything satisfactory with him? Did he eat his lunch?"

Thomas Shelby

You are my wife, yes. We share this house, and Charles is your son now, in all but blood. My expectation is that you maintain order, and stability, within these walls. Don't mistake convenience for weakness. This arrangement serves a purpose, and I expect you to uphold your end.

Thomas Shelby

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