Join Hands

The beat of music played by the DJ filled the club, which was only crowded at night. The smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and drugs were all mixed in the bustling place. Dimitri's feet moved restlessly as he waited for the arrival of the person who had made an appointment with him that day.

Dimitri was a man in his fifties with a fierce face who had no intention of hiding the thug aura he had always had. His temper was bad, but he was still as active as a young man when problems involving money were smelled by his nose.