The Sun Will Rise | T Shelby

two

Angelina had received a stern lecture from her older brother the whole way home. She was under no circumstances allowed to talk to 'The Shelby Brothers'.

She asked why, continuing to pry as they picked up her belongings from the hotel she had been staying at before heading back to the house Lorenzo and Stefano shared, only Angelina got no answers.

She wanted to know why the gentleman with the ocean eyes wanted Angelina and her brother out of his pub so badly. None of this made any sense to her, not from the first day her father left Rome to live here, right up till that second she entered her brothers' home.

It was a deceivingly large end of terrace house a few streets away from The Garrison pub where they had met. It was homely, photographs of the twins and their father hung on the walls, knitted blankets across the chairs in the sitting room, and pots stacked on shelves in the kitchen.

The home smelled like their house back in Rome. Angelina smiled.

"Stef, I've missed you."

Angelina embraced her other brother tightly, grabbing his face with both hands and placing kisses on both of his cheeks.

"Enzo tells me you have already made trouble here, it's only been a couple of days."

Angelina laughed, a grin on her brother's face as he took her things up the stairs and showed her to her room.

"I didn't know. I promised Enzo I wouldn't speak to them again, you don't have to worry."

"I know," Stefano smiled, sitting down on the bed beside his sister and pulling her in for another warm hug, "But you are my little sister, I will always worry."

She spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking her things and catching up with her brothers. She met their 'friends', and became acquainted with the men who her brothers told her would be round the house more often than not.

This didn't bother her, though, she was used to being in the company of men.

The twins had arranged a small gathering that evening, inviting the rest of their friends round to the house. Before the clock turned seven, more than twenty men were crammed into the sitting room, kitchen, and some even spilling into the small courtyard around the back of the house.

"Lina! Come!" Angelina put down her glass, a small helping of white wine inside after her brother had persuaded her to loosen up.

She walked over to Stefano who was stood alongside another gentleman whom she was yet to meet. He was tall with wide shoulders, arms bigger than any she'd seen on any man in Italy before. His hair was dark blond and his eyes a deep brown. He wore a grey tweed suit, his blazer thrown over one shoulder.

"I want you to meet Jude. He's a good friend of mine."

Angelina smiled, holding out her hand for Jude to take, pressing his lips against it gently.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Santoro."

"Please," Angelina flashed a smile, "Call me Angelina."

"Angelina it is. Tell me, how was your journey across from Rome?"

The pair stood and spoke for a while, Stefano leaving them alone. Angelina knew her brother was trying to find her a partner, she knew that they would want somebody to be there to take care of her and make sure she was safe when they were off doing whatever it was that they did.

Angelina hadn't had been single for just over two years, splitting up with her childhood sweetheart when the spark between them eventually went out. Since then, she had been perfectly happy on her own.

She wasn't shy to male attention, but in Italy, many women were just as beautiful as Angelina. Her deep olive skin beautifully complemented her thick ebony hair and pale green eyes. She was the beauty standard in Rome, nothing out of the ordinary. However arriving in Birmingham, she was shocked to see many of the women looking nothing like her. She had never been exposed to the paler skin, the lighter hair, or men like Jude.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me, Jude? I'd like to see more of the area around here."

"Sure," Jude smiled, looking slightly taken aback at the Italian's proposal, "I'll catch up to you, I just need to speak to a few people before I go. Why don't you make your way to the docks?"

Angelina nodded. She finished the rest of her wine and pulled on the same shawl she had been wearing earlier, making her way out of the house.

She followed the roads for a while, ending up at the docks like Jude had said. Birmingham was loud for this time in the evening, people sailing up and down on canal boats, men shouting, some still working. It felt much more alive than her view from her balcony in Rome, overlooking the quiet streets that were dimly lit by people's bedside lamps through open windows.

It was different, but she didn't mind it too much.

Wrapping her shawl tighter around her, Angelina shivered as a gust of wind rippled across the water, breezing through the leaves of the trees that lined the canal.

"What might you be doing out here by yourself at this time of night?"

Angelina turned to see a familiar face, though one who's name she didn't have.

"Let me guess, you're waiting for someone?"

She thought he'd stop walking closer to her, but she was mistaken. He continued to approach her, stopping a short distance away, close enough for her to get the scent that cling to his clothes. Whiskey and cigar smoke.

"I am. And I'm not supposed to talk to you."

He was wearing a long wool coat now, black like the water that reflected the crescent moon above them.

"You don't look like the type of girl do listen to what other people tell you."

He pulled out a cigarette from inside his jacket, holding one out to Angelina who just shook her head. He held it between his lips, his shoulder raised as he lit it, taking a long drag before speaking again.

"I didn't get your name?"

"Angelina," She said, turning to face him in the dark, "Angelina Santoro."

The gentleman chuckled, throwing his head back slightly as he laughed to himself.

"Santoro," he said, pointing at her with the cigarette between his finger and thumb, a grin on his face, "Of course, Santoro."

"And your name?" She replied.

"Angelina!"

The pair of them turned to see Jude walking towards them in the distance.

The gentleman stood before Angelina threw his cigarette on the floor, stamping on it with the heel of his shoe.

"Shelby," He said, turning his back to walk away, "Thomas Shelby."