A STORM APPROACHES

SMOKE'S POV

The weeks after the war with the Black Talon gang were surprisingly peaceful. For the first time in months, there were no shootouts, no betrayals, and no unexpected visits from rivals. Business was booming, and the crew was running things smoothly. The weed store was thriving, the casino was pulling in solid cash, and the laundromat was cleaning more than just clothes.

It felt good to breathe again. But deep down, I knew it wouldn’t last. In this line of work, peace is just the calm before the storm.

I decided to expand while we had the chance. Relying solely on the weed store and casino wasn’t enough anymore. We needed more ways to clean the kind of money we were bringing in. That’s when I had the idea to open a car dealership.

“Cars are the perfect front,” I told Charles and Jimmy one afternoon at the store. “We move cars in, money comes out clean. Nobody asks questions.”

Jimmy nodded, clearly impressed. “You’ve got a knack for this, boss.”

“You don’t get far in this game without thinking a few steps ahead,” I replied.

The dealership opened within weeks, and it was everything I’d hoped for. Sleek cars lined the lot, salesmen smiled and shook hands with customers, and cash flowed steadily into our accounts. On paper, it was a legitimate business. In reality, it was another way to launder the drug money.

With everything running smoothly, I decided it was time for a break.

“Lena’s been talking about Paris,” I told Charles and Jimmy during a meeting. “I think it’s time I made it happen.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “You? A vacation? That doesn’t sound like you, boss.”

“Even I need to step back sometimes,” I said with a smirk. “But don’t get any ideas while I’m gone. I want everything running exactly as I left it.”

Charles nodded. “We’ve got it covered, boss. Go enjoy yourself.”

Paris was everything Lena had dreamed it would be. From the Eiffel Tower to the Seine, she wanted to see it all. For the first time in years, I allowed myself to relax.

“You’re always so tense,” she told me one evening as we strolled along the river. “It’s like you’re expecting someone to pull a gun on you at any moment.”

“Occupational hazard,” I replied with a shrug.

Still, her smile made it easier to forget about the dangers waiting back home.

While Lena and I were enjoying Paris, trouble was brewing in Oklahoma City.

Miguel had arrived, and he wasn’t happy. Santos’ cousin was a tall, imposing figure with a sharp gaze that seemed to pierce through anyone who dared to challenge him.

Santos had built an empire, and now it was mine. But Miguel saw it differently.

“This city should’ve been mine the moment Santos died,” he growled to one of his men as he studied a file on me. “This Smoke character thinks he can just take what’s rightfully ours? He’s got another thing coming.”

Miguel’s men had been gathering intel for weeks. They knew about the weed store, the casino, the laundromat, and now the dealership.

“What’s the plan, boss?” one of his men asked.

Miguel’s lips curled into a sinister smile. “First, we figure out his weaknesses. Then, we hit him where it hurts.”

When Lena and I returned from Paris, I went straight to the weed store to check in.

“Everything’s running smoothly,” Charles assured me as we sat in the office.

“No issues while I was gone?” I asked.

“None,” Jimmy replied, lounging in a chair. “The new dealership is already pulling in good money.”

I nodded, but something felt off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I had a nagging feeling that trouble was brewing.

Later that evening, I got a call from one of the guys stationed at the casino.

“Boss, we’ve got a problem,” he said, his voice tense.

“What kind of problem?”

“There’s a guy asking questions about you—says he’s family of Santos.”

I clenched my jaw. “Did he give a name?”

“Miguel.”

The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Santos had mentioned him once before, but I never thought I’d have to deal with him.

“Keep an eye on him,” I said. “Don’t engage. Just watch.”

I hung up, my mind racing. Miguel wasn’t just a threat—he was a declaration of war.

That evening, I called Charles and Jimmy into the office.

“We’ve got a new problem,” I said, leaning forward.

After explaining who Miguel was and what he wanted, Charles asked, “So what’s the plan?”

“We prepare,” I said. “This guy thinks he can scare us into giving up what’s ours, but he’s got another thing coming. He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.”

Jimmy nodded. “We’ve got your back, boss.”

I looked at them both, my expression serious. “Good. Because this isn’t going to end without blood. And when it starts, we’re going to show Miguel why this city belongs to us.”

Miguel wasn’t wasting time. By the end of the week, he’d already started staking claims on what he believed was his. Small businesses that had been paying us protection money suddenly stopped calling.

“He’s testing us,” Charles said after one of the shop owners reported being threatened.

“Then it’s time we remind him who’s in charge,” I replied.

The storm was coming, and I could feel it in my bones. Miguel wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted—or until we stopped him for good.