FLASHBACK….
5:30pm.
Moscow skyline.
“It's about time you came to Chicago.”
Dimitri chuckled lowly, “The first Kalashnikov wedding, I couldn't miss it bràt.”
“Glad to see you'd be present for my Omertà then.”
Dimitri clenched his grip on the phone a little. Damien's ascension wasn't something he was looking forward to.
“Alicia hun?” Dimitri asked almost sarcastically.
He already knew there was only one reason Damien would want to marry Alicia–being the head Irish mafia's daughter.
“Yes.” He simply replied and the next second the line went dead.
By the time Dimitri’s private jet touched the ground of Chicago, the city was cloaked in the night's darkness. It was enveloped by wind and chaos filled the air like a familiar song—sirens wailing, neon lights flickering, and the pul
