Chapter 7 - The Purge of Chicago
"Papa!" Misha shrieked, running past Dimitri's fallen body and hurling himself into his father's arms.
Mikhail caught his son, holding him close with his uninjured arm, his dark gaze lifting to meet mine over the boy's shoulder.
"Are you hurt, Maya?" Mikhail asked, his voice rough and breathless.
"I'm... I'm okay," I stammered, sinking to my knees in sheer relief. "He said you were dead..."
"It takes more than a traitor to kill me," Mikhail said coldly, glancing down at his brother, who was still breathing weakly on the floor. "Nikolai!"
Nikolai stepped into the doorway, his arm in a sling but his expression grim. "Boss?"
"Remove Dimitri," Mikhail ordered without a shred of pity. "Strip him of his name, his assets, and hand him over to the federal authorities with every piece of evidence we have on his illegal operations. Let him spend the rest of his miserable life in a maximum-security cell."
"Right away, sir."
That night, Mikhail launched a swift and absolute purge across Chicago. Every captain who had aligned with Dimitri was arrested, stripped of power, or forced to flee the country. Within forty-eight hours, the internal war was over.
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The Volkov Syndicate was reorganized entirely. Mikhail systematically dismantled the illegal branches of his organization, transitioning his vast fortune into legitimate global shipping, real estate, and philanthropy.
The city of Chicago learned once and for all: Mikhail Volkov was untouchable, not because of fear alone, but because he possessed a loyalty that could never be broken.
