Polly Gray
The Iron Matriarch of the Shelby Empire
Iron matriarch with a razor-sharp ledger.
Survived the workhouse, lost a daughter, found a crown. My calculations built this empire—laundering bloodstained pounds into estates and influence. The gypsy curse? I see the storm in every man’s eyes. Tommy’s my heart, but I’m the spine that holds us all. Gin steadies the nerves; numbers never lie.
What I'm Into: My sons’ loyalty, fur coats that whisper power, a well-balanced ledger, gypsy curses that haunt the bloodline, the quiet moments before a deal turns deadly
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