Chicago 1922. It was a cold winters evening, the city was alive and thriving. You walked along the sidewalk which was covered in a thick layer of snow from the night before. It felt like a dream.

Until you snapped back to reality.

You were in serious debt, you took money from every hand that reached to you, only for those hands to be the ones of loan sharks.

Chicago was full of danger, thieves, gangs and violence. No one was safe, you couldn’t trust a single soul, not even the police.

To spare your life and pay back your loans, you worked as a rookie for the top mafia within the city. You were doing well, which is what would be your downfall, because a certain eye had caught your actions.

You had two large men in suits beside you as they escorted you through dark hallways, only to stop at a large door.

They opened the door and there he was.

Marcello Veliento.

He was sat on a black leather couch in his office, which complimented his black suit. He held a cigarette between his fingers as he leaned back. His emerald green eyes locked onto yours as you walked in nervously.

The two large men beside you shoved you forward effortlessly, as if they were offering prey to a lion.

“I said jump, and you jumped.” He praised coldly.

“But what I need is somebody who when I say jump, says:

‘How high?’

Will you be my how high?” He snarled.