Chapter Text
"Darling," He murmured, not looking up from his papers, "I can hear you sighing. I know you fucking want my attention. Give me ten minutes, pet, so we don't go fucking destitute, yeah?"
"Alfie," she whined as she sat on the papers on his desk, earning a groan, "I'm bored. You promised weeks ago we could go out. I want to dance. I want to drink. I want to fuck."
"We can do all that here, pet," Alfie said as he looked over his glasses at her. "Why do we need to go out?"
"Do you remember when we first married, Alfie?" She asked sweetly as she slid into his lap. "Do you remember how we barely left the bed for days?"
Alfie inhaled as she leaned in and nibbled his ear, placing her hand upon his chest. Her smell surrounded him as he closed his eyes.
"Of course I do," he chuckled. "Ollie nearly had a fit for how behind on paperwork I got. We were half starved. Barely took time for more than water and sleep."
"And when we finally returned to public," she giggled into his ear, stirring things in him, "it was a new challenge. How to find every dark corner and never get caught."
Alfie's hand moved up her thigh as his smile widened. A growl reverberated in his chest. She murmured as her hands traveled up his neck to cup his face.
"Let's go find another dark corner, King Solomon."
–
She hummed, hugging herself to Alfie's side as he guided her into King's Tavern. The place buzzed with men, but they quieted as they realized who was moving past them. Ollie tagged along behind them, a nervous puppy in a sea of men. Alfie was quiet while guiding her to the booth in the very back, a dark corner that the men – his men – couldn't see.
King's Tavern was Alfie's. He bought it for the unmarried cooks he employed. A place for them to be rowdy without spilling bakery secrets. Most of them took the offer, drinking through the night on cheap rum they had spent all day making. Alfie barely charged them; he called it an investment.
"As long as it covers the electricity and rent in the place, I'm of no thoughts of charging the boys more," Alfie chuckled, "Drunk men share their troubles, and if they have work troubles, I'd rather they share them with their own. Less bribes to make."
The right wall was a line of booths, with tables in the center of the area and the bar on the left. A room was built at the end of the bar to house the rum, making the back ten feet of booths more of a corridor with a dart board on the back wall. Those booths were dark and easily hidden.
Her green a-line dress was as good as canary yellow around the men in their grays and browns. She caught the eyes of every man before they dipped their heads with recognition. She smiled brightly at them all. She was out. She was free.
Alfie guided her to the booth and then sat in the back corner with his face to the crowd. She sat next to him as Ollie took the seat opposite, all but vibrating with unease.
"Do relax, Ollie," she laughed as she took his hand. "It's just a drink. One night of fun. You do know what fun is, right?"
Ollie looked cautiously from their hands to Alfie, searching his face for an ounce of distaste. She grinned as Ollie jumped as the bartender came over, putting rum in front of all three of them. The bartender quirked his eyebrow as he eyed the trio but said nothing of Alfie looking out into the crowd as Ollie held hands with the girl by his boss's side.
"Dance with me, Ollie," she challenged, grin spreading ear to ear as she went to pull him out of the booth.
"Uh, boss–" Ollie looked pleadingly.
"You know why she's toying with you, mate," Alfie responded flatly, not taking his eyes off something in the distance.
"There's no music," Ollie insisted as she pulled him to his feet.
So she sang. And the men around them began clapping along to the beat and singing, too, until she had dragged Ollie into a circle to dance for the men singing. She laughed as he went white and she spun herself in his arms.
As the song ended, a man began another. Ollie groaned, earning an eye roll as she let him go and made her way to the bar. She didn't look back to see if Ollie disappeared back into the corner. If he did, she would just drag him back to dance when she was ready.
She stood at the bar top, leaning herself over it and then backwards idly as she waited for service. A tall man with a mustache stood beside her in a black coat, watching her from the corner of his eye with a smirk.
The bartender nodded to her, bringing three drinks without a word before disappearing to the other side of the bar again. The tall man beside her cussed under his breath as his fist curled on the bar.
"You can have these," she said as she slid the drinks to him. "Is three enough?"
"Three's perfect," he said as he perked up, "my brothers 'n I make three. That's kind of you, bird. Although, don't they make whiskey?"
She swatted his thanks away.
"It'll be easy to get more," she smiled. "I'll just wave my hand again and they appear. And no, they only offer house rum here. No whiskey. It's pences a glass, though."
She hung herself over the bar again, and the bartender nodded before heading that way to make her drinks.
"If only everyone were so lucky," he joked, "what do they call you, pet?"
"Aphrodite," she smiled wide. "You and your brothers enjoy your night."
"I'm Arthur," he said, his lips moving as if to add more, but he didn't.
She nodded his way as she picked up her drinks and turned to make it back through the crowd. Ollie had indeed returned to her husband. Alfie continued locking eyes with someone behind her.
She placed the drinks on the table before sliding into her seat beside Alfie. She took her shot in one gulp before wrapping her arm around Alfie's stiff arms that were crossed atop the table.
"Dear," she said as she put her mouth to his ear. "A girl could get jealous of the attention you're paying to God knows what right now. I suggest you give a little of it to me."
Her arm dipped down to his lap as she laid her head upon his shoulder, doing her best to find what had Alfie's attention. She frowned as her eyes fell on Arthur and two other men at a table.
"Who are the brothers, Alfie?" She asked, causing him to finally stir.
Alfie frowned.
"How do'ye know they're brothers, pet?"
"Met the tall one, Arthur, at the bar while you were eye-fucking the brother watching us right now," she said as she idly ran her fingers along his thigh. "They trouble?"
"Possible business partners," he said, finally looking down at her. "But trouble enough. Birmingham boys looking to expand."
She carefully memorized the cold, chiseled jaw and piercing blue eyes that were locked on her. His features were marble, giving nothing away. There was no warmth to him. She shivered.
"The brother seemed nice enough," she said as she sipped Alfie's shot. "Bit easy to anger. And the third?"
"They say he's good with explosives if he's not busy chasing skirts," Alfie grunted.
A smile slowly spread across her face. Ollie went pale.
"I don't think it's wise to –"
"Can I play, Alfie?" She asked, cutting Ollie off.
She looked at her husband, who broke eye contact with the brothers long enough to look down at her and frown. He searched her face for a moment before he brushed his thumb against her cheek.
"Don't make me kill them, pet," Alfie said. "I've not made money off 'em yet."
"Bet I could get you more money," she smiled. "I'm quite charming."
"Are you wild, pet, or are you mine?" Alfie asked as he lifted her chin and kissed her.
When they finally pulled away, she let out a giggle.
"I can be both, darling."
–
She watched the skirt-chasing brother get up from the table to make his way to the bar, his posture and face brimming with frustration. Her eyebrow quirked upward before she turned to her husband to peck him on the cheek.
"I'll be back, love," she hummed before taking off toward the bar.
She did her best to slide between patrons without the brother noticing she was aiming at him. Shortly as he arrived at the bar top, she slid in beside him, rubbing shoulders.
He moved to face her, eyes flashing anger as he raised his fist, only to immediately melt into a lazy grin as his eyes traveled her body and his arm dropped.
"Best watch who you rub up against, love," he said as his eyes traveled back to her face, "The wrong drunk will deck you before he realizes you aren't a man."
"Is that what you were going to do?" She asked, intentionally bumping into him again as he resumed facing the bar. "Looking for trouble tonight, then?"
He smiled, watching her from the corner of his eye as he chewed his lip.
"Love," he said finally. "I am trouble. There's no looking required. But you should know, you're trouble, too, aren't you? Trouble finds itself."
She giggled, nodding to the bartender as he brought three drinks her way before turning around, completely ignoring the brother beside her.
"What's your name, trouble?" She asked, handing him a shot. "A rum for a name seems fitting."
"John," he smiled before taking the shot in a gulp. "But I prefer whiskey."
"Whiskey is for business, John," she winked at him before taking her shot. "Rum is for fun and for fucking. Wouldn't you rather have rum with me?"
John chuckled before taking her third glass and shooting it down.
"Trouble if ever I met one," he said as he sat the glass on the bar and leaned into her. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"I'll tell you, if you play a game of darts with me," she said as she leaned closer to his ear. "No one else will play with me."
"Well isn't that a shame."
She took his hand and pulled him toward the back of the room, where a small dart board was against the wall maybe 6 feet from the booths that Alfie and Ollie sat at. To the left was a closed off room that stored the rum and bartender area, making the area more like a corridor. Men had already disappeared from that area after Alfie sat back there, so although still loud, it was much more intimate.
She grabbed the darts from the board, and as she turned to face John again, she found herself pinned to the wall with John's arm leaning beside her head.
"Bit dark to see the game, sweetheart," John said, his eyes half closed as he leaned into her.
She placed a hand on his chest as she ducked under his arm and around him, her hand feeling the muscles of his chest and then his back.
"You'll just have to feel your way to the darts, then, sweetheart," she mocked him as she made her way back to the throwing point.
She watched John deflate a little before turning around to join her. He motioned for her to go first.
"So, how are you here alone?" John asked as she threw. "Your daddy rich and well known?"
"Who said I was alone?" She smiled at him briefly before she turned her focus back to darts. "Daddy is indeed rich, but he doesn't know I'm here. I doubt he would be pleased."
She threw her last dart and made her way to the board to count her score. John followed her, leaning on the wall beside the board as she pulled the darts out. John bit his lip again as he watched her.
"So you're out to prove a point, then?" He asked as she handed him the darts. "Sow some wild oats before marrying into boring high society?"
She smiled, rolling her eyes as they walked back to the throwing mark.
"And if I were to tell you that you're with a really bad man," John said as he aimed at the board and threw. "What then, love? Does that scare you, or make you weak in the knees? How much trouble are you looking for?"
"How bad could you be, John," she laughed as she leaned into him, making him shift uncomfortably before continuing his turn. "When you're too busy being bothered by a girl to win a dart game?"
His last dart flew but hit the wall beside the board as John let out a low growl of frustration. He turned to face her, their noses nearly touching.
"Guess I'll keep calling you Trouble, then," he muttered. "Double or nothing. I win, I get your name and your company for the night."
Her eyebrow rose.
"And if I win?"
John smiled an easy smile.
"What do you want, sweetheart?"
"Everything, of course."
"Spoken like a true woman," he joked as he went to retrieve the darts.
"I'll start with your wife's name," she said as he came back. "And you start this time."
John looked sheepishly at her, shuffling in place to regain his focus before throwing a dart. She tapped his wedding band.
"Might remove the ring before you go courting next time," she said as he threw a dart and it took a slight dive.
"Most women either don't notice or care," John said. "You've got an eye on you, Trouble."
He grew still and focused hard on the board before tossing another dart, making a bullseye. And another.
"Look what you can do when you're determined," she teased, running her hand across his shoulders before leaning into his ear. "Must want something real bad."
"Something like that," John muttered as he threw his last dart.
They both counted, and then it was her turn to throw. She stepped up, but couldn't help but feel John close beside her.
"What sort of company are you expecting if you win, John?" She asked with a smile as she barely hit the board.
"Oh, sweetheart," John purred in her ear. "I don't need to bargain for sex. You'll take your clothes off willingly before the night is through."
Her dart never made it to the board. And the next one fell flat, too. It was hard to concentrate with him in her space. When did her heart start pounding? Was it always warm in here?
She felt his eyes on her as she threw her last dart and immediately knew she lost. John's arm snaked around her waist as his lips pressed against her temple.
"Looks like your mind for the night…" John hesitated, waiting for her name.
"Aphrodite," she said. "But you could have just asked your brother Arthur."
John frowned but didn't lose his grip on her.
"There's that eye again," John murmured before speaking up. "Then let's have you meet our brother in charge. Tommy's never seen a puzzle he can't solve."
"Am I a puzzle now?" She smiled as he led her back to the front of the bar.
"All women are fucking puzzles," John laughed. "Puzzles and trouble."
It doesn't take long to part the crowd and return to his brothers hand in hand.
"Ey, Tommy, meet Aphrodite," he smirked, twirling her to the table. "Lost a game of darts and owes me her company for the night."
"You're not Aphrodite," Tommy said simply. "You're Persephone."
"What?" John said, looking back at his brother. "What's that even mean?"
What was once hand holding quickly became John gripping her wrist.
"Let go of me, John," she said loudly.
The tables around them became silent, and the bar followed suit. Suddenly, all eyes were focused on their table. She smirked as the boys raised their hackles.
"One of you is educated," she smiled as she tugged her arm in a weak attempt to be loose from John.
"Who are you?" John asked, squinting back at her as he looked her over more closely.
She twisted her arm in his grip until her thumb was facing up, revealing a tattoo of a crown just below it. She leaned in as her smile widened.
"I'm the queen."