ella

asterpiece of distraction. Crystal chandeliers, the heavy scent of contraband bourbon, and expensive F

found floating in the East River. A "stupid shootout," they called it. I sipped my champagne, hiding a smirk behind t

ed the bar. His face was an unreadable mask as he slid a leather-bound drink menu across the p

it was a flawless succ

of peace was over. A real war had begun, and I needed

moment I stepped into Alistair Kirkland's

o-ceiling windows displayed a city Alistair believed he owned. He sat at the head

" he asked, his voice smooth and d

e he expected me to be. "Only that the jazz bands are getting l

hosts. "Perhaps it's time we find you a man who isn't dull. A powerful family in Chicago is very in

orcing a dramatic, annoyed sigh, but inside, my blood ran cold. This was his ultimate leash.

ago followed me in

knock. The man who walked in brought the stench of raw meat, copper, and pure violence w

he independent warlord of Ch

sale," Gus rumbled, his massive frame dwarfing the delica

mily. He leaned forward, a predator negotiating a kill. "Tell Kirklan

ng, giving him my most devastating, unbothered smile. "In this city, Mr. Camacho, the highest

nd that vibrated in my chest, bef

air's paranoia was pushing him to tighten his grip on every single resource in this city, from alliances to the v