Sal Rossi had never been a man to sit around waiting for opportunity to knock twice. When life gave him a door, he kicked the damn thing open and walked through it with a cigarette hanging from his lips and a plan already forming in his head. But lately, something had changed. For the first time in a long while, Sal wasn't just working for himself. He was working for something bigger.

Valhalla.

Since crossing paths with Odin and being offered a place among his ranks, Sal had made it his mission to prove that the opportunity hadn't been wasted. He understood that a name wasn't built overnight and respect certainly wasn't handed out like free drinks at a bar. It was earned through loyalty, hard work and showing up when it mattered.

And Sal had been doing plenty of showing up.

Two successful raids on the Truck Depot had already put money in the right pockets and given Sal a taste of what could be accomplished when the right people worked together. The jobs weren't without their risks, but that was part of the business. Every successful operation brought him one step closer to establishing himself as someone the family could count on.

Then there were the dealings in the dark alleys, where handshakes were quick, conversations were quieter and certain packages changed hands without anyone asking too many questions. Several successful drug sales had added to the growing pile of cash, each transaction another small victory in Sal's ongoing effort to make himself useful.

Of course, a man couldn't make his fortune entirely through the respectable side of criminal enterprise.

More than a hundred successful jailbreaks had seen Sal helping people escape the iron grip of the law, sometimes for a handsome fee and sometimes because the opportunity was simply too good to pass up. Add to that a healthy collection of petty crimes, purse snatchings, and the occasional con pulled on unsuspecting poor schlubs, and it was fair to say Sal hadn't exactly been spending his days polishing his shoes.

He was building a reputation.

Still, beneath the confidence, the sharp suits and the crooked grin was a man who understood just how much this opportunity meant to him.

Odin had opened a door that Sal hadn't been certain would ever open. A chance to belong to something with purpose. A chance to build wealth alongside people who understood the value of loyalty. A chance to prove that he was more than just another face looking to make a quick buck on the streets.

And Sal hadn't forgotten it.

Every successful job left him wondering whether Odin had heard about it. Whether the results had reached the right ears. Whether the man who had taken a chance on him was pleased with what he saw.

Sal wasn't looking for a pat on the back every time he brought something to the table. He wasn't that kind of man. But he'd be lying if he said earning Odin's respect didn't matter to him.

One evening, after another long day navigating the city's backstreets, Sal found himself nursing a drink and reflecting on how far he'd come. The money was beginning to stack up, opportunities were appearing more frequently and the faces around him were becoming familiar.

His brothers and sisters of Valhalla were no longer simply people he worked alongside. They were becoming his people.

And that meant something.

Perhaps Odin would cross his path soon. Perhaps there would be another job, another conversation, another opportunity to prove himself. Sal intended to be ready for all of it.

He raised his glass slightly, a quiet toast to the family that had given him a chance.

"Here's to Valhalla," he muttered with a smirk. "And here's hoping the old man thinks I'm earning my keep."

He took a long drink, set the glass down and straightened his jacket.

There was still a name to make, a fortune to build, and a whole lot of city left to work.

Sal Rossi was just getting started.

And if Odin had plans for him, Sal intended to make damn sure he was worth every bit of the faith the man had placed in him.