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Queen City

Chapter 1

Queen City, New York... a promising city in Western New York, known for its harsh winters. A city that was once infamous for its venues being packed with multiple celebrities. But now it became famous for its barbaric criminal underworld. Plenty of players had their hands in the criminal underworld, much like law enforcement did.

Everyone was outside trying to enjoy the summer weather on this particular morning. The summer didn't last long in Queen City, as its climate was dominated by the cold weather, much of the year. Traffic was like rush hour and several people were trying to get their way to work or others were trying to make it out towards the Harbor Side, which was located in the downtown area.

A penthouse located inside of an apartment building in the downtown area was about to get messy. A woman that was yellow skinned, with long curly black hair stood inside of the penthouse living room, with a scar that ran down her cheek. She wore a sky blue spaghetti strap dress that did nothing to hide her C-cup breasts and killer thighs. Her ass looked as if the dress had been painted on it, with the rear end looking as if it would make Jennifer Lopez and Nicki Minaj both jealous. She wore a pair of red open toe heels. Custom jewelry laid on her wrists, fingers and ears. The woman was half African American & half Italian. She was Isabella 'Belle' Tessio, a high level narcotics queen pin that held a significant stake in the drug market of Queen City's north side and downtown area.

The living room had a white carpet, tan walls, a white ceiling with a beige couch and matching love seats. Expensive black colored lamps were on oak stands in each corner and a black television was built inside one of the walls. A shark tank was built inside one of the other walls and had piranhas swimming inside.

Belle calmly approached the center of her living room and placed her hands on her hips. A menacing look came over her face as she looked down at a man that had been tortured for a couple of hours that was tied up to a chair. "You stole from me. Why? Why did you think that you could steal behind my back, and think that I wouldn't find out?"

The individual that was held captive was a Puerto Rican man in his late teens, and was shirtless with blood stains on his chiseled chest. He wore black cargo pants that were ripped and was shoeless, cigarette burns had been placed on each of his toes. His face was bloody, he had cut marks on his shoulders and chest with salt on his body, clearly his wounds had been inflicted with salt to add to his list of injuries. The man looked up at Belle, giving her a look that said he was nonverbally begging for her to show mercy.

Belle stuck a hand out and received a golf club by a middle aged Italian man that wore a black suit. Belle ran the club across the captive cheek and began smiling like the devil. "I don't like repeating myself." She then swung the golf club and hit the man across the face with the object, turning his face in the process as blood flew out of the man mouth while he yelled out in pain.

"PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE JUST STOP! I'M BEGGING YOU! I'M BEGGING YOU! I WON'T DO IT AGAIN! I GIVE YOU MY WORD!" The man shouted as tears flowed down his bloody face. He didn't want to suffer anymore. He couldn't take anymore pain.

Belle twirled the golf club above her head while smirking at the man. "I learned many things from my husband. He always said that you must cut the cancer out quickly, or everything becomes infected and will go to shit." She then unleashed a fury of an attack on the man, clobbering him to the death with the golf club as he laid on his side, his arms still tied to the back of the chair.

The man blood was all over the carpet as his lifeless body laid still. Three Italian men wearing black suits then rolled out a long sheet of plastic and began to untie the deceased man.

Belle approached one of the men and wiped the golf club on his suit, smearing the blood of the man she had just killed on her soldier shirt. "Clean my place. Get Vance on the phone. Tell him to meet me at my club tonight. We have to talk. This fucking snake stole from us. He stole our re-up and sold it off."

The man that Belle had just killed was Hector 'Two-Gun' Salazar, one of Belle's most trusted lieutenants that was in charge of handling her re-ups. He was also Vance's best friend, which made his treachery even more messed up.

In the south side of town was a meeting happening inside of a pub. The place had brown floors, white ceiling and its ceiling was colored in the design of an Irish flag. Brown chairs were around black circular tables and a pool table was in the back of the pub. The bar counter was black and had brown colored stools as lights were up in the ceiling of the place.

A middle aged Irish man wearing a blue short sleeve buttoned shirt, navy blue jeans and brown shoes, stood behind the bar. His hair was short and red, his face was cleanly shaven. The man was Drew Balor, an Irish mob boss that held a signifying stake in the south side, central area and downtown drug market. He picked up a glass of whiskey and downed it with one gulp, slamming the glass down while grimacing from the burning sensation. "Are we all in?"

A brown skinned African American man appearing to be in his early twenties, sat on a stool across from the Irish mob boss. He wore a white v-neck tee shirt, light blue denim jeans and a pair of white Gucci sneakers. Customer jewelry rested on his wrists and ears and a thick gold chain rested around the man neck. His hair was cut low and his facial hair was in a stubble in the form of a goatee. The man was Henry 'Biggs' Watkins, the head of an African American drug gang that held a significant stake in the east side and Black Stone section of Queen City. Biggs picked up a glass of Hennessy and downed his shot glass followed by slamming the glass on the counter. "Yeah, I'm in motherfucker."

A Puerto Rican man in his mid thirties sat to the left of Biggs. He had a bald head with a full beard and a scar that ran across the side of his neck with tattoos on his hands, lower arms and front of his neck. He wore a burgundy v-neck tee shirt, black jeans and black Timberland boots. The man was Cristobal 'Vibora' Ruiz, the head of a Puerto Rican drug gang that held a decent sized stake in the drug market in the west side and River Shore section of Queen City. He wasn't one to drink, but decided he would on this morning. Vibora picked up a shot glass of rum and quickly swallowed the alcohol. He put a fist up to his mouth as he coughed and looked at the two men. "I'm game. I'm in with everybody."

"Good." Drew said as he picked up a bottle of whiskey off the bar and poured himself another drink. "It's good to see that we can all agree to share together. We can all receive the same products under the same connect, and the violence can end with us all being partners together."

"I agree. It's a lot of money to be made with all of us on the same side." Biggs said while rubbing his hands together.

"My only concern is that Tiger, and Michael, didn't show up. Seems as if not everybody is on board with the proposal." Vibora said with a look of concern.

"Maybe we should wipe them the fuck out, and take their spots over." Biggs said with a voice that was laced with venom. He was known for going to war and making major money moves in the drug game. But Biggs also wanted more, he wanted to gain more territories.

Drew put the shot glass to his mouth and looked at Biggs. "No. We don't need to remove them. We can't go to war every time someone rejects our offer. We prosper and move forward. Besides, why should we move into their parts of town, when we can wholesale to their underlings once the heads have either been killed or arrested?"

Inside a cream colored room in the downtown area were several officers in the Queen City Police Department. They sat around a long rectangular table that was oak. A average height and slim brown skinned man with a bald head wearing a brown suit white shirt and black shoes, stood at the head of the table. "I'm switching things up pertaining to our investigation into Drew Balor. I want the 'Major Crimes Task Force' to handle surveillance."

A medium height and obese Caucasian man wearing a short sleeve white collared shirt, navy blue jeans and brown shoes looked up at the table and ran a hand over his shirt red hair. "We can have officers following them, and catch them in the middle of performing a transaction. Then we can have one of them flip and we can get numbers to use for a wiretap. Does that work for you, Commander Hicks?"

"It does, Lieutenant Riley. I want this investigation to bring down Drew Galor."

"There's been some rumblings about him creating an alliance with others. It could be a chance for us to make some headlines, and bust this collective as a whole."

Commander Hicks smiled and placed his hands on the table. "That's why I decided to switch things up, from how we were operating previously. Our last two undercover officers didn't get anywhere. They were kept at bay, and now we need to survey Balor, and see if we can get him through surveillance."

The afternoon was shining as everyone was enjoying the summer. The weather had a cool summer breeze to it. The central area of Queen City was about to get shaken up, come this afternoon. Inside of a white apartment complex building, someone was about to make an impact.

A light skinned and slim African American man in his mid twenties with black braids that were died blonde at the end, sat by a brown table inside of the living room. The apartment was all white and the man had wore a white v-neck tee shirt, tan cargo shorts and white socks. He was counting money that was on the table and had a toothpick in his mouth. The man would then wrap the money up in a couple of rubber bands and toss the money inside of black duffel bag that was laying on the floor to the right of him. The man smirked as he looked at the money inside of the duffel bag.

A Puerto Rican man appearing to be the same age as the light skinned man stepped inside the living room wearing a black sleeveless tee shirt, navy blue jeans and a pair of black, white & navy blue Air Jordan Eleven sneakers. He rubbed his hands together and approached the man at the table. "I'm about to head out and make some moves. You can handle the re-up with the connect?"

"Yeah, I got them covered."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I got this. Besides, I gotta make some moves around that area anyways. I can drop off the last two bricks of coke over to my people out there. I'm a toss my college bitch the last brick of heroin, and we good."

"You trust them enough to give them shit off the arm?"

"I do. I jive fucks with them."

A knock on the door caused the two men to look over. The Puerto Rican man approached the door and looked through the peephole. He saw a dark skinned delivery girl wearing a red uniform with a red hat and looked back at the man at the table. "You ordered some food?"

"Yeah. Been waiting on that shit. Let them in."

The Puerto Rican man opened the door and saw the delivery girl brandishing a chrome revolver in front of his face. "Back the fuck up." The delivery girl said as she stepped inside the apartment while the Hispanic man walked backwards.

Two light skinned men that were half African American and half French, stepped inside the the apartment after the delivery woman. One of the men had a scar down his cheek with long hair that was in a ponytail. The other has his hair cut short with a goatee. The two men were clearly related and wore black tee shirts, black jeans and black Louis Vuitton sneakers, with each of them carrying a black pistol.

The man at the table saw what was happening and lunged down to grab the duffel bag. He then went to run away, only to stop as he felt the barrel of a gun being pressed against the back of his head.

"Don't move." The man with the scar said as he reached around the man waist, grabbing the duffel bag.

The delivery woman kept her revolver pointed at the other man face, licking her lips in the process. "Where's the stash at?"

The man put his hands up and swallowed a lump in his throat. He had a look of fear and didn't want to die. "It's in the air conditioner in the in the window. Three bricks."

"And the money? The shit in the bag isn't all you got here." The man with the goatee said as he cocked back his gun and had an evil look on his face.

"It's in a backpack in the room closet." The Spanish man said while looking down. He exhaled and watched the man with the goatee head over to the air conditioner.

"Three bricks!" The man with the goatee said while dumping the narcotics inside the duffel bag. Then he went inside the room and came back with a black backpack and held it up. "I got the bread. I found some guns up under the mattress. Let's get the fuck up out of here."

The trio left out of the apartment and got away with robbing the two men.

The night had arrived and the weather was feeling like a cool summer night. A dark skinned African American man appearing to be in his late twenties stepped out of a black Yukon Denali. He had long black dreadlocks that were wrapped up in a bun and had a beard. He wore a pink collared short sleeve shirt, light blue denim jeans and wheat Timberland boots. Custom made jewelry rested on his wrists and ears as he looked around at the parking lot he was in that was located in the downtown area. The man was Vance Witherspoon, the younger brother of Belle. He was also the number two person in her organization and was known for being extremely calculate in his decision making. Vance built a reputation for himself as a killer.

Belle stepped out the back of a brick colored venue that was used for a strip club named 'Belle's Pleasure'. She wore a black ruffle detail long dress with a pair of tan high heels strappy sandals. Her hair flowed down her back as she had the perfect amount of red eyeshadow. Belle walked across the parking lot with two dark skinned men that wore grey suits with white shirts. She stopped in front of her brother and gave him a smile. "Dear brother, how're you tonight?"

"I'm doing good. I found out who our re-up got sold to."


Vance cleared his throat while looking around the parking lot. "It got sold to some Albanians in the Black Stone area."

Belle had a ferocious look as she wondered what to do. She took a step and was an inch away from her brother face. She saw how uncomfortable he was and reveled in her power. "Set up a meeting. I'd like to meet with them, and find a 'corporate language' between us and them."

Vance knew his sister could be a homicidal maniac and hoped she wasn't going to wipe out the whole Albanian crew. He knew her reputation was one that was made up of being one of the deadliest, and his was made off being one of the smartest. "I'll arrange it. I happened to find out from a girl that I mess with, that her cousin is one of the Albanians. She told me about how her cousins spoke about Two-Gun selling them out re-up."

"Good. I heard about this 'Organization' starting up."

"Same here. How do you want me to go about them?"

"We aren't joining forces with them. Fuck them."

"It could lead to more power sis."

"Vance, we have everything we need and we have everything we could ever want. We run Queen City. Call our connect. Arrange a new re-up and remove Two-Gun's soldiers."

"I'm on it sis."

Queen City

Chapter 2

The next day

Vibora wore a purple collared short sleeve shirt, navy blue jeans and wheat Timberland boots, as he sat on a brown park bench in the Black Stone section. He ate a bagel while looking around the area with four of his soldiers standing around the bench, covering each side.

A medium height and slender Puerto Rican man with short black hair and a clean shaven face walked down a field of grass wearing a black collared short sleeve shirt, black jeans and a pair of black Gucci sneakers. He rubbed his hands together while approaching Vibora, and gave the Spanish drug boss a fist bump. "Morning."

"Morning. Sun is shining bright today. Nice breeze we have in the air."

"What's good?"

"You tell me, Tiger."

Tiger was a heavy player in the drug market in the Black Shore and north side of town. His crew were known for handling things in brutal fashion. They preferred to cut their victims up, and send the body parts to a family member house of the victim.

"I'm in with the Organization. I'm down with everyone." Tiger said with a look of skepticism as he looked around at the men that were providing security for Vibora. "But I don't trust the Irish or the niggers. I have a long history with you, amigo. But if these niggers or red headed cocksuckers try anything... I'm wiping them out."

Lieutenant Riley stood inside of a black colored basement located at a police precinct in the central area. He wore a short sleeve pink collared shirt, black jeans and a pair of black shoes. He looked at the officers that were sitting around a white circular table, and a huge smile flashed across his face. "I handpicked you three to help with this investigation. You three will be doing surveillance on an Irish mob family that is ran by a man named Drew Galor."

A light skinned African American woman wearing a white blouse and tan cargo pants with a pair of white Nike Air Force One sneakers sat up straight in her chair. She ran her tongue across her lips, looking around at everyone. "Let's get this shit on the road."

"That's what I like to hear, Detective Lansing."

The female detective picked up a tan folder off the table and read the contents inside, raising an eyebrow. "Seems as if Balor runs a nice ship. But I believe this alliance he's forming will cause us to have the break we need."

The afternoon was filled with dark clouds as it looked as if the sky would start to rain. Biggs pulled up alongside a curb in a white Range Rover. He was parked behind the Collegiate Station, which was a train station that was used for the underground train. It was in front of Queen City University, which was a top tier university and was infamous for its medical program and was in Queen City's central area. Biggs wore a green v-neck tee shirt, black jeans and a pair of black Gucci sneakers. He rubbed his hands together while watching the trio that performed the robbery approach his vehicle. He unlocked the doors and watched them all climb in.

The trio wore matching outfits: white v-neck tee shirts, tan cargo shorts and white Reebok Pump sneakers. The trio all slapped hands with Biggs, and the female tossed a black backpack in the passenger seat.

"What we got here?" Biggs asked as he reached over to grab the backpack.

"Some money from those bricks we sold from that spot we stuck up." The man with the scar said while rubbing his hands. "Trying to get our hands up on some more tools. We need them shits."

"I can dig it." Biggs said as he looked inside the backpack. "I'm a break y'all off with some tools. What y'all trying to grab?"

"We trying to grab some heavy shit. Some big boy shit. I'm talking about laying a nigga crew down type of shit." The man with the goatee said with a voice that was filled with seriousness.

"I'm a send my people at y'all. I got you niggas." Biggs said while turning his head back to look at the trio. "I got something that you three might be interested in."

"Yeah? I'm all ears my nigga." The female said as her eyes began lighting up. She knew that Biggs always had something up his sleeve.

Biggs rubbed his hands together while licking his lips. "I got a mean lick. Some big boy shit. I'm talking about the spot got like a half mil and some bricks. Y'all can keep the cash and sell me the bricks. They got coke and heroin pumping through this spot. They be hitting off mad people up in this shit."

The female rubbed her hands together with a grin on her face. "I'm game. Send us the info, and we'll handle the rest."

The trio were known as 'The Triangle' and were notorious for being a trio of stick up kids. They robbed anyone that was moving drugs, and hung out with a few heavy players in Queen City's drug game. The man with the scar was 'Titus'. He had served time in prison for weapons charges and was still on parole. The man with the goatee was 'Blockz'. He was the younger brother of Titus, and had a case pending for weapons possession and armed robbery. He was set to be sentenced in a couple of weeks. The woman was 'Shiva'. She was Blockz longtime girlfriend and was extremely loyal to her man.

Drew sat behind the bar inside of his pub wearing a black short sleeve buttoned shirt, navy blue jeans and black shoes. He smoked a cigarette while looking over at an Irish woman that was wiping off the bar counter.

The woman had long red hair with blue eyes. She wore a pink blouse, black jeans and a pair of pink open toe heels. The woman was Michelle O'Riley, the head enforcer for the Balor Crime Family. She looked over at her boss, smiling at the middle aged man. "Yes?"

"Some people are set to come by. If things don't plan out as such, I want you to remove them."



The door opened and the two men that had been robbed walked inside. The Spanish man wore a blue tee shirt, navy blue jeans and a pair of white Nike Air Force Ones sneakers. The light skinned African American man wore a purple tee shirt, tan cargo pants and a pair of white & purple Nike Foamposite sneakers. The Puerto Rican man wore a light blue tee shirt, navy blue denim jeans and a pair of wheat colored Timberland boots. The duo approached the bar and shook hands with Drew.

Drew rubbed his chin as he contemplated on what he was going to do, provided what the men had to say. He picked up a shot glass of whisky and raised it in the air. "So, what happened?"

The Puerto Rican man felt a little nervous as his hands started to sweat. "We got robbed. Someone robbed the spot. They took everything."

"Everything?" Drew asked then swallowed the liquor in the shot glass. "Everything?"

"We got hit for everything. They took the last three bricks and the whole bread."

"They took $150,000 out of your spot?"


The light skinned black man shook his head with a look of anger. "A bitch was dressed up as a delivery girl. She rushed the spot with two niggas. Boys laid us down for everything, Drew."

The Irish mob boss exhaled. He looked over at Michelle, giving her a serious look. "Do you two know who did it?"

"No. We never seen them around. But I put the word out." The black man said while noticing the body languages of the two Irish individuals. "Mind fronting us another fifteen bricks, and we pay you back?"

Drew stared at Michele, with a look that said he was considering what was just proposed to him. He let out a small chuckle and looked over at the duo. "I shouldn't have had to wait for you two to arrive, to inform me of such news. Once it leaves my crew hands, you two are responsible for protecting the coke and smack. I'll front you another fifteen bricks. But I'm charging triple the amount. You owe, so you two have to pay back everything plus interest since my crew doesn't have my payment. Don't let it happen again. I expected a certain amount of professionalism from you two, Chillz & Bunny Q."

Chillz was the Puerto Rican man and Bunny Q was the light skinned black man. They had been best friends since the second grade and entered the world of drug dealing their freshman year in high school. They were the distros for Drew, pushing his narcotics throughout the central area of Queen City.

The Major Crimes Task Force Unit was parked inside of a white van located across the street from the pub. They were snapping photos of each man that walked out of the pub. From Chillz, Bunny Q, to Michelle and Drew, they had pictures of them all.

The night had arrived with the streets being covered in rain. Puddles were everywhere and some people enjoyed the rain, since it meant that they didn't have to be out in the hot weather.

Vance stood inside the basement of 'Belle's Pleasure' wearing a black v-neck tee shirt, black jeans and black sneakers all made by Louis Vuitton. He rubbed his hands together inside the black colored basement and looked at the liquor inventory. "Some nice shit you got here."

Belle stood to the right of her brother, wearing a peach colored sly cut-out trapeze choked dress with a pair of open toe black colored heels. She placed her hands on her hips, smirking at how far she had came in the male dominated criminal underworld. "We have some nice shit. 'We' baby brother. Not I, not you. 'We'. We've come far."

"True shit. You know that Robbie Smoke is coming home?"

"Your point?"

"He once ran the north side of town. He may feel inclined to grab what was once his.

"I see."

"How you want us to handle it? He can definitely mount up some soldiers."

"I know. Not sure on how I want us to handle things. Let's wait and see if he makes a move."

"He will. He'll make a move, Belle. Before we took over, Robbie Smoke had everything on lock. Nigga had everyone scared of him on the north side, except for us and a couple people that were over there."

Belle smirked as she looked at her younger brother. She always appreciated his calculate mind, and was glad that he was on her side. But Belle sometimes felt that he could overstep his boundaries. "Dearest brother, I value your mind. But I run things around this way. I run this bitch. So if I say something, just do it."

Vance nodded his head and turned around facing the basement steps. "I'm a go up and have a drink.

Belle turned her brother around facing her. She then kissed him on the cheek and pulled him in for a hug. "Don't be like that. It's out of love, that I'm hard on you. You got the mind for the business. I give you that. You even got a nice little rep as a killer. But there's more to this than you know. I'm looking after you, Vance."

"I know. I know sis."

"When's the meeting with the Albanians?"

"The meeting with the Albanians will happen tomorrow."

Queen City

Chapter 3

The morning was filled with light rain as The Triangle sat inside a white van in the River Shore area. They were looking at a black colored house and wore matching outfits: black v-neck tee shirts, black cargo pants and black Timberland boots. They had been sitting in the van across the street from the house the last six hours, and were intent on taking notes so that they could pull off their next move.

Titus sat in the driver seat holding an AK-47 and cocked it back. "They make runs in and out when they be grabbing the coke and heroin. We about to hit them soon."

"Word up." Shiva said as she pulled out an AR-15 and cocked it back. She was sitting on a blue crate in the back of the van. "When we hitting them? I say we should stick they asses up now."

Blockz sat in the driver seat and was rubbing his chin while staring at the house. "We need to make sure that we hit them for everything. We slipped up last time and only got three bricks. We gotta be more precise."

Titus looked over at his brother with a smirk on his face. "Three bricks? We got out of there with $250,000 and three bricks. We not missing out on anything, come this lick."

Detective Lansing looked over the pictures as she sat inside of the Major Crimes Task Force room, in the basement of the precinct. She wore a blue tee shirt, tan cargo pants and a pair of black combat boots with her hair wrapped up in a bun. She stood up and rubbed her hands over her hair. "Not a bad start. Felipe 'Chillz' Ramirez & Darius 'Bunny Q' Davis, two known drug dealers in the central area. Seems as if they are in bed with Balor. Michelle O'Riley, the ever so trusted enforcer of Mr Balor. Not a bad start."

Lieutenant Riley had his back pressed against a wall as he wore a black tee shirt, navy blue jeans and a pair of black shoes. He sucked on his bottom lip while watching the female detective post the pictures on a surveillance board. "We know whom some of the players are. Best we keep focusing on pictures, to help us persuade someone when the time is right."

"I was thinking the same thing, Lieutenant."


"I have our unit tailing their men. It seems as if Balor has formed an alliance with Henry 'Biggs' Watkins and with Cristobal 'Vibora' Ruiz. This could be the start of a big investigation, and we shouldn't rush anything."

"Good. This could possibly lead us to their supplier, which is what we need."

Belle stepped inside a restaurant located in the Black Stone section. She wore a white & red sleeveless caged dress with multiple slits on the sides of her thighs and a pair of black heels. The ruthless queen pin looked around the restaurant, raising an eyebrow. She was going to send a message on this particular afternoon.

The restaurant had black colored walls, a white tiled floor, a black ceiling with fifteen black circular tables with blue colored chairs. A bar counter colored brown was inside of the restaurant along with ten white colored booths. Lights were built inside the ceiling and the placed was empty, minus the female bartender and a male host.

Belle approached the hostess and ran her hands down her sides. "I need to speak with Michael Gashi."

"He's in the back. I'll get him." The host said in a voice filled with nervousness, as he had a look of curiosity. He knew all about Belle's reputation and was deathly afraid, for good reason.

Vance walked inside the restaurant wearing a red short sleeve collared shirt, navy blue jeans and a pair of red & navy blue Air Jordan Five sneakers. He walked up to the right of his sister and stared the host in the eyes.

Belle had an evil expression on her face as she kept her eyes fixated on the host. She watched him head to a set of black colored double doors that led to the kitchen. Belle looked over at her brother with a look of evil intent. "You know what to do."

Vance nodded his head and exhaled while looking at the bartender. He placed his hands behind his back and watched his sister exit out of the restaurant.

The bartender felt uncomfortable being around Belle and Vance. She hen began rubbing her lower arms and headed to the kitchen, not wanting to be around Vance anymore.

A short and husky Albanian man with short black hair and a clean shaven face walked out from the double doors. He wore a white long sleeve buttoned shirt, navy blue jeans and black shoes. Tattoos were on the man hands and the sides of his neck. He was Michael Gashi, the head of the Albanian mob that held a significant stake in the drug game in the Black Stone area. He walked over to Vance, extending a hand. "My brother informed me that your sister would be coming."

"She wasn't able to make it. Running a strip club and other ventures prevented her from attending this meeting."

"I understand. Let's talk, shall we?" Michael motioned with his hand towards a booth and followed Vance over to the booth.

Vance cleared his throat while placing his hands firmly on the table. "We know that Two-Gun sold you our shipment. But how do we know that you weren't involved?"

A look of confusion came over Michael's face. He was lost and didn't know what to think. "If he sold it to me, how could I be involved?"

"Maybe you made arrangements with him ahead of time to purchase what belongs to us." Vance then took his hands off the table, placing them on his thighs.

Michael scratched his chin while trying to figure out Vance's endgame. "Did I buy your kilos? Of course. But I had nothing to do with your shit getting-"

A gun shot underneath the table to Michael's abdomen cut him off. He leaned back while gasping as his eyes looked as if they were ready to pop out of his head. The Albanian mob boss then fell to the floor, laying on his side as he placed a hand on his wound.

Vance stood up from the booth he was at holding a black pistol. He aimed it down at Michael's face, and clenched his jaw while saliva fell from his mouth. He fired another shot, sending one into Michael's jaw.

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