Devil | A Solomons

THREE - THE EDEN CLUB

Irina Zakharov didn't do things by halves. That included the amount of alcohol in her glass, the type of car she drove, the linen she slept on, as well as the clothes she wore every day.

Upon deciding to accept Thomas Shelby's invitation to his party at The Eden Club, Irina made a visit to the lavish tailor across the other side of London, in need of a new dress for her event.

It was rare she wore something more than once, an occasion outfit that was. Day to day, slim fitted trousers and a crisp Japanese silk shirt hung from her frame, her hair always pin straight down her back and her skin bare of any makeup besides a pale red lip stain.

Irina embraced her natural beauty, of which she was fruitful. Deep olive skin and dark sultry eyes with hollow cheekbones and a sharp jawline made the need for any foreign product on her skin unnecessary, her most vulnerable state being all she needed most days.

It was early morning on the day of the party when Irina arrived at the tailors to pick up her dress. She'd requested a slim fitting red satin dress with black gloves to match the lace detail on the plunge neckline.

"Good morning Miss Zakharov, how are you?" The seamstress greeted her with a warm smile as she moved a basket of old thread underneath the counter.

"I'm well thank you, it's a lovely morning, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, meant to be a clear night too, you'll be able to see the stars."

"How darling," Irina flashed a smile, placing her black leather handbag down on the counter, "How much do I owe you?"

The seamstress wavered over the price, glossing over a hefty discount they'd given Irina for her repeat custom. She was grateful, of course, but there was practically nothing Irina couldn't afford, though a discount here meant more to spend elsewhere.

After paying for her dress, she headed back out into the mild morning sunshine. It appeared as though the seamstress was right in her prediction, the sky clear of any clouds as far as Irina's eyes could see, a sign for a starry night.

It wasn't often that Irina was invited to parties, or invited anywhere, truthfully. Since moving to England, her social life had been put on somewhat of a back burner, becoming far less important to her than earning a living and building a successful business.

To her, speaking to Kristian and her staff all day was more than enough socialising. She would sometimes visit the cocktail lounge not far from her neighbourhood if she'd had an especially draining day that a drink could help, but the attempts at conversation from trying gentleman in three piece suits cheaper than her underwear soon ruined her attempt at a tranquil evening.

Irina wasn't even remotely interested in the idea of falling in love. She was far too busy working and quite frankly the idea of having a busy day in the office and returning home to a man needing love and affection was enough to almost repulse her. She had her needs satisfied when she felt like it, knowing men would fall at her feet without her even having to try, but a long term affair wasn't in her plans.

As a little girl, she had liked the idea of being in love. The fairytale romance and endless dream of being adored by a man, protected and taken care of without having to lift a finger used to seem like the only thing she ever wanted to achieve, though now, her ideas couldn't have been more different. Indulging into the boss lifestyle she lived was far more rewarding to her than being loved by a man. It wasn't that Irina had completely disregarded love, but it certainly wasn't something she could envision being a part of her life any time soon.

Dressed like the wife of a rich, retired Mafia boss, Irina locked the door to her home and jumped into the back of the car once her driver pulled up outside. As she gazed up at the sky, she saw the stars shimmering against the black, sparkling much like the large diamond that sat on a silver band on her finger.