Lawsuit
Chapter 134: Lawsuit
SMITH COLE
I had underestimated Greg Evans. That was my first mistake. I thought he’d come at me like a street thug, swinging wildly, making it easy for me to shut him down. But no—he was playing smart. Legal. And that was the kind of fight I wasn’t prepared for.
One of my boys came running into my room interrupting my thoughts. “Boss, another club’s been shut down.”
I glared at Marco, my patience wearing thin. “Which one?”
“The one on the east side. The cops raided it last night, they said on suspicion of trafficking, illegal gambling, the whole damn list.”
I exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of my desk. “And you’re telling me this now?”
He hesitated. “Didn’t want to bring bad news first thing in the morning.”
“Marco, you’re about to bring me bad news at your funeral if you don’t fix this.” I growled, staring daggers at him.
I waved him off, already feeling the headache creeping in. My businesses were crumbling one after another. First, the cops hit my warehouse, then my clubs, and now, even my own men were slipping through my fingers.
Loyalty was thin when the money dried up and I couldn't have that, I needed to fix this mess.
"Boss," Marco said again, shifting nervously. "Some of the Tiger Gang boys... they’re leaving. Moving to other gangs."
I froze, then turned to face him slowly. "Who?"
"A few of the newer guys. Some of the old ones, too. Word is, they don’t wanna go down with the ship." He responded.
My jaw clenched, fucking cowards, spineless traitors. I built this empire, and they were abandoning it, fleeing like cowards.
I needed to send a message. I picked up my phone and dialed a number. A deep voice answered.
"Need something handled?"
"Yeah," I said coldly. "Find out who’s switching sides. Make an example out of one of them. Publicly."
A low chuckle. "Got it, boss."
I hung up, feeling a small sense of satisfaction. If they thought they could walk away from me without consequences, they had another thing coming.
As I was reeling in my satisfaction, a knock on my door brought me back. It was my lawyer, Mark, he walked in, holding an envelope. His face was grim.
“You’re not gonna like this.”
I snatched the envelope from his hand, ripping it open. My eyes scanned the contents, my pulse pounding.
It was a lawsuit from Greg Evans, something about conspiracy and racketeering.
A slow, bitter laugh left my lips. “That bastard. He really thinks he can take me down like this? He thinks he can crash everything I've built over the years?”
Mark sighed. “Smith, this isn’t just some petty accusation. He’s got evidence, witnesses.”
I slammed my fist on the desk. "What evidence? He doesn't have a damn thing! My boys took their so-called evidence when they killed John Evans and Ethan Blake."
"Enough for a judge to consider it."
I leaned back in my chair, running a hand down my face. Greg was coming at me from angles I didn’t expect. He wasn't trying to kill me. He was trying to bury me in court and I couldn't just bribe my way out of this one.
“When’s the pre-trial?” I asked.
“A week from now.”
I grinned. “Good. I’ll show up and make a joke out of it.”
Mark didn’t look convinced. “Smith, this is judge Harding, he’s got a reputation for being tough on guys like us. If he sees even a hint of truth in Greg’s claims, this case won’t get dismissed. It’ll go to a full trial.”
I scoffed. “Then I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”
But I knew the truth. This wasn’t just about the trial. It was about perception. My business partners were already distancing themselves. My police friends weren’t answering my calls as quickly as they used to. They no longer feared or respected me.
Greg was winning, and that pissed me off more than anything.
A week later, I walked into the judge’s chambers with confidence, dressed in my best suit. Mark was beside me, whispering last-minute instructions, but I wasn’t listening.
Greg Evans sat across from me, his expression unreadable. I smirked. “You really think this is gonna work?”
He didn’t respond. The judge entered, and everyone straightened.
“Mr. Evans,” Judge Harding began, “you’re claiming that Mr. Cole was involved in the murder of your brother. Present your reasoning.”
Greg’s lawyer stood. “Your Honor, we have reason to believe that John Evans uncovered criminal activities tied to Mr. Cole. Shortly after, he was ambushed and killed. The timeline aligns, and we have witness statements from individuals who saw Mr. Cole’s men near the crime scene that night.”
I rolled my eyes. “Witness statements? From who? Drunks? Junkies?”
The judge gave me a sharp look. “You’ll have your turn to speak, Mr. Cole.”
I clenched my jaw, staying silent.
Greg’s lawyer continued. “Furthermore, we have financial records showing Mr. Cole’s connections to the Tiger Gang, a known criminal organization. Given these circumstances, we believe there is enough evidence to warrant a full trial.”
Judge Harding turned to me. “Mr. Cole, your response?”
I leaned forward, putting on my most charming smile. “Your Honor, this is nothing but a personal vendetta. Greg Evans is scrambling for a solution because he needs someone to blame for his brother’s death. I run a legitimate business. If I were a criminal, do you think I’d still be sitting here?”
The judge didn’t look impressed. “Mr. Cole, your record suggests otherwise.”
I stiffened. “There’s no proof I had anything to do with John Evans' death.”
The judge was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed.
“I’ve reviewed the presented evidence. While it’s not enough for a conviction, it raises substantial questions. I’m ruling in Mr. Evans’ favor. This case will proceed to full trial.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut and I stood abruptly. “This is bullshit.”
“Careful, Mr. Cole,” the judge warned. “You’re already in enough trouble.”
Greg stood too, giving me a satisfied look. “See you in court, Smith.”
I wanted to wipe that smug expression off his face.
I stormed out of the chambers, Mark trailing behind me. “What now?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. My hands were shaking and my face was red. Greg had won this round but the game wasn’t over yet. I would find a way to bounce back, I always do.