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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."

"Who?"

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."

"Understood."

"Good."

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?"

"Yeah."

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."

"Good."

"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.



The night had arrived and everyone was talking about the murder that took place inside Michael's restaurant. Many people were shocked to find out that the Albanian mob boss had been killed, especially in his own restaurant. The news covered the murder and everyone knew that Belle had her brother take out Michael, as a sign to not mess with kilos.

Drew sat in a booth inside of his pub, wearing a green suit jacket, a white long sleeve buttoned shirt, navy blue jeans and black shoes. He puffed away on a cigarette, while watching the news on a television that hung on a wall. "Can't believe that the Albanian got clipped."

"You can say that again." Biggs said as he sat to the left of the Irish mob, wearing a red short sleeve collared shirt, black jeans and a pair of red & black Air Jordan Fourteen sneakers. He picked up a glass of Hennessy and took a sip. "Belle, isn't one to shy away from her ruthlessness. She's someone that we need on our side."

Vibora walked out from a brown door hat was the entryway to the restroom. He wore a brown v-neck tee shirt, navy blue jeans and a pair of brown & tan Louis Vuitton sneakers. The Hispanic drug boss made his way over to the table while drying his hands on the sides of his jeans. "Michael was supposed to be meeting us here tonight, to see if he'd except our offer. Guess the 'black widow' had other plans."

"You can say that again." Biggs said and quickly finished his glass.

Drew put his hands together as he stared at the television, his mind running circles. "Robbie Smoke is about to come home. He may feel inclined to start a war on the north side. He was a heavy player back before he got locked up."

Biggs ran a thumb across his chin, grinning at Drew. "We could talk him into possibly joining us. His right hand man is my cousin in law."

Vibora scratched his chin while raising an eyebrow. "He won't join us. Robbie Smoke is a pure thoroughbred, and will reject our offer. He may be going to war with Belle, when he comes home."

The Major Crimes Task Force sat inside a black van across the street from the pub, and watched the venue very carefully. They took photos of the Organization bosses, and was building a case as they now had pictures of the four bosses exiting together while sharing laughs.

Lieutenant Riley shook his head in disbelief and chuckled. "Anthony 'Tiger' Acosta is with this 'Organization'. I'm utterly surprised. He doesn't like anyone that isn't Spanish."

Detective Lansing chuckled as she kept taking photos of the four drug bosses. "Damn, they don't even know that we are going to nail their asses."



The Triangle were still sitting inside of the van that they had been in all day. They looked at the black colored house and watched four Spanish men exit the house with nothing in their possession. They knew it was time to get this robbery started. They wore matching outfits: white v-neck tee shirts, tan cargo pants and wheat Nike ACG boots. The Triangle was about to make an impact.

The trio exited the van and rushed over to the front of the house, carrying their respective firearms. Titus and Blockz then kicked down the black colored door and made their way inside the white colored living room with their weapons ready.

The living room had a black couch and a black table with a glass center. Three Spanish men sitting on the couch had heir hands raised up as they saw the brothers with assault rifles.

Titus licked his lips while pointing his weapon at one of the Hispanic men. "Where's the stash at?"

The Spanish man began speaking in Spanish, as he kept his eyes on Titus.

"I'm not trying to hear none of that shit. You niggas speak English." Titus said while cocking back his assault rifle, letting a bullet hit the floor as a sign that said he wasn't playing.

The other two Hispanic men were deathly afraid and were in shock. They spoke in Spanish, clearly communicating with the man that was on the couch with them.

Titus didn't waist anymore time and fired a shot through the man chest, killing him instantly with his AK-47. "I'm not playing. I don't repeat myself."

The two remaining Spanish men had their mouths wide open as they started trembling in fear. "The money is in the kitchen inside the refrigerator. The stash is inside the oven." One of the Puerto Rican men said.

Shiva stepped inside with her weapon drawn and headed for the kitchen with Blockz, as Titus kept his assault rifle pointed between the two men on the couch.

Shiva walked out of the kitchen with a black garbage bag. "Jackpot. Everything is good."

Blockz walked out of the kitchen carrying a black garbage bag, smiling like a kid in a candy store. "Niggas had twenty bricks up in this motherfucker. Let's go."

Titus walked backwards with his weapon still being aimed at the two men. "Let's get the fuck up out of here."




Queen City


Chapter 4


Two days later


A dark skinned African American man walked out of tan prison and made his way passed the chain like fence that had barbwires on top. The place was Saber Correctional Institute, one of the most notorious prisons in Western New York. The dark skinned man had his hair cut low and rocked a full beard as he wore a navy blue prison shirt with tan prison pants and white prison sneakers. The man rubbed his hands together as he looked up at the sky. "Hell of a morning to be out."

A black Toyota Land Cruiser SUV pulled up and a brown skinned African American man with short hair and a goatee walked out from the driver side. He wore a navy blue suit, white shirt and brown shoes. The man looked at the released convict and clapped his hands. "My big fucking bro, Robbie Smoke."

Robbie Smoke had a slight smirk on his face as he watched the man approach him. They engaged in a hug and with both men patting the other one back. Robbie rubbed his hands together with a serious expression on his face. "Take me to see my P.O. Then we gotta get to the money, after I get some pussy."

"No doubt. I got you. I handled shit for you. We on some different shit. I'm a pull you in and out you on to how shit be working out here."

"No doubt my nigga. But you been letting things slip, Benny."

Benny was Robbie's right hand man. He was the second in command of Robbie's crew, the 'Smoke Out Crew'. Benny was always the businessman, and preferred peace over violence. Robbie preferred money, and understood that you had to be violent at times in the game.

Benny tilted his head to the side and placed his hands inside his pants pockets. "It's not slipping bro. A nigga been making some moves for us. You'll see. Trust me, Robbie. I got things clicking. We clicking in a different way. Under the radar. Away from the police and the Feds."



Vibora walked down the stairs inside of his apartment in the River Shore section. He entered the living room and saw two of his men sitting on the couch. "So... what the fuck happened?"

"Motherfuckers came up in here. They robbed us. Motherfuckers took everything. They was on some 'Call Of Duty' shit. Coming out with big ass rifles and shit." One of the Hispanic men said with a voice laced with fear.

Vibora ran a thumb under his chin, while staring at the two men. "How many?"

"Two niggas and a bitch. The bitch had a gun that was bigger than her!" The other Spanish man said while having a look of anger on his face.

"Why didn't you shoot them? Why is one of my men dead, and we don't have any bodies to rack up on my side? When the fuck did you get robbed?" Vibora asked as he crossed his arms over his chest, giving off a menacing vibe.

"Two days ago. We didn't know how to come to you, Vibora. We just didn't know what the fuck to say." One of the Spanish men said as he lowered his head. "We were shocked when our cousin got killed. The niggas straight up bodied his ass right in front of us. But we definitely gonna ride out. Believe that shit, Vibora."

The Puerto Rican drug boss flared his nose up. He didn't like the fact that his stash spot had been robbed. "I want you to find out whoever did this shit. I want their heads on my living room table."



The afternoon had came and Biggs walked inside a pizzeria on the west side of town, approaching a table in the back. He ran a hand over his hair and took a seat next to The Triangle. "How that lick work out for you?"

Titus placed a brown paper bag on the table and slid it over to Biggs. "Shit worked out well. I'm digging the shit. Shit was a nice lick. What's next on the menu?"

Biggs grabbed the brown paper bag and slightly opened it, looking at the dollar bills that were heavily stacked together with rubber bands. "I got some shit on the menu. Y'all know that Spanish nigga Tiger?"

Shiva took a sip threw the straw of her soft drink and grinned at Biggs. "We know that nigga. What's good with the boy?"

"I got some information on one of his stash spots." Biggs said while placing a folded piece of paper on the table. "We talking about twenty keys, and $200,000 up in the spot. Light security. He got one nigga up in that shit, but the goon keeps that tool on his hip at all times. You gotta drop him, soon as you step inside."

Blockz took a bite out of his cheese pizza and nodded his head. "We can handle that shit in our sleep. This boy gonna be out of here quicker then a fifteen second booty call."

Biggs shook his head while laughing. He then stood up and walked out of the pizzeria with the brown paper bag in hand.



Vance sat inside a Jamaican restaurant located on the east side of town, digging into a plate of curry goat. He chomped away at his meal as he looked up, seeing Benny stepping inside if the venue. Vance picked up a napkin off the table and wiped his mouth as he looked around to make sure that he hadn't been set up. He knew that Robbie Smoke had cake home from prison. Vance wasn't sure what to expect from the newly released man, and was prepared for war.

Benny walked over to a table in the back of the restaurant and nodded his head at Vance, signaling that he had no issue with the man. "What's good, Vance?"

"Same shit, different day. What's good with you?"

"I can't call it. Trying to stay out the way."

"I hear that my G."

"Heard ya man is home."

"Yeah, he out. You know how shit go, when you fresh out of the can."

Vance chuckled and took a bite out of his food. "I feel you."

Benny stood up and walked over to Vance's table, motioning with his hand towards a seat.

"Go ahead."

Benny sat across the table from Vance, looking down at the plate of curry goat. "That shit any good? Never had it before."

"Yeah, shit jive good. So what's good?" Vance asked as he knew that Benny wanted to speak with him about something.

Benny rubbed his hands over his head while exhaling. "I'm not trying to have any war break out. You already know I beat my fed case, and I'm not trying to go back to having the Feds breathing down my neck. So I'm trying to offer something to keep the peace."

"Yeah? What you offering my nigga?"

"We front you whatever you need, you push the shit out and give us our money back. We keep the peace, and nobody has to prepare for funerals. Police know people sell drugs. They don't give a fuck about that. They don't like the bodies popping up."

Vance picked up his glass of juice and took a sip. "I'll have to run things by my sister. But if she declines for us to work for you, then what?"

"My man won't be too thrilled. I'm just trying to keep the peace."

Vance bit his inner gum while staring at Benny. "I'll deliver the message."




Queen City


Chapter 5


The night has arrived and The Triangle sat inside a black van, staring at a sky blue & burgundy house located on the north side of town. They all wore black v-neck tee shirts, black jeans and black Timberland boots. The trio each pulled it black pistols and grinned at one another. The collective then exited the van and rushed over to the side of the house, stopping at a white colored door. "Take the front, Shiva. We got the side." Titus ordered.

Shiva walked around to the front of the house and tapped on the front door that was colored burgundy with the pistol she held.

"Who is it?" A voice asked from behind the door.

"Let me in. I gotta bust some moves down for Tiger." Shiva said while raising her pistol at the door.

"Tiger?!" The door opened revealing a short and slim Puerto Rican man wearing a white v-neck tee shirt, blue basketball shorts and black flip flops made by Adidas. He froze at the sight of the woman before him and raised his hands up in fear. "I don't got no issues with-"

The man got cut off as Shiva slapped him across the face with her pistol, causing his head to jerk sideways as he stumbled back.

The side door got kicked in and Titus came rushing inside the house with Blockz rift behind him. The brothers stepped inside the living room and saw the Puerto Rican man laying flat on his face as Shiva stood over him. "Grab the stash." Titus ordered and nodded his head at Shiva.

Shiva put a bullet in the back of the man head and placed her gun in the back of her waist.

Blockz searched through the house and walked into the living room carrying two black duffel bags. He slid the bags across the floor towards Shiva, and had a smirk on his face. "We just came up big with this shit. They had like thirty bricks up in this bitch and mad loot. Let's go."



Vance stood by a black bar counter located inside an office inside of 'Belle's Pleasure'. The office had a black colored desk, a white colored ceiling, peach colored walls and a black tiled floor with black leather chairs. Vance held a glass of Ciroc in one hand and a glass of Hennessy Black in the other hand. He held the glass out and smiled.

Belle approached her brother, wearing a red lace inset sleeveless top with black solace detail wide leg pants and a pair of red strappy heels. She grabbed the glass of Hennessy Black and clinked hers with Vance's glass. "Brother." She took a sip out the glass and exhaled. "So?"

Vance rubbed a hand over his dreadlocks and lowered his head. "We got a war knocking on our door. Benny approached me inside the Jamaican spot. He said that Robbie Smoke wants us to push coke and dope out for him. I don't think it's actually Robbie Smoke that wants us to work for him. I think Benny said that, so that a war doesn't break out. I can tell that Benny doesn't want a war. He's never been-"

"Built for war. My husband always said that." Belle said cutting off her younger brother. She then finished her glass and held it out, wanting another drink.

Vance picked up a bottle and poured his sister another drink. "Maybe it's best that we work with Robbie Smoke, find out everything we can and strike later. We take his shit over, just like we took the Albanians shit over earlier."

"They don't want a war because Robbie Smoke isn't carrying that same kind of clip he used to. Even if he did, I've been the one holding down the throne. It's mine!"

"No doubt you holding it down, Belle. Nobody will argue that. But what if we decide to share the crown?"

Belle rubbed her brother face with an evil smile. "I paid my dues. There's no sharing of the throne, Vance. Tell our people to tool up. We going to war. I got $60,000 on Robbie Smoke head, $50,000 for Benny. I want you to make the first move, come tomorrow morning. Did Benny give you a number?"

"No. But you know that they only meet up with others inside of that mechanic shop they own, or inside of that corner store that they own too."

"Good. Hit both spots tomorrow. Make it quick come tomorrow morning."

Vance exhaled and nodded at Belle. "I got this."

"Good. Come downstairs and look at the women." Belle said while placing her arm on the lower back of her brother. She then scoffed him out to the main area.

The main area had multi colored lights that were hanging from the ceiling, black colored walls, an enlarged brown colored stage that had multiple female strippers dancing. The strip club had a black tiled floor and thirty black circular tables with black chairs and a black bar along with six black colored booths. The place was packed with several patrons drinking and throwing money away as the music blasted throughout the entertainment system.

Vance looked around at the women that were dancing on the stage and grinned. "I'd fuck the shit out of them."

"Never mix business with pleasure, my dear brother." Belle said as she massaged the back of her brother shoulders. "Never do that. Bitches will fuck shit up. And men can be bitches too."

"True shit."

"Never forget that, baby brother."

"I won't."

Gunshots rung through the building, causing chaos. Several customers and dancers ran out of the club, causing some people to get trampled over. Others hid in the back of the club or behind the bar and several employees began running towards the dressing rooms.

Vance held Belle in his arms as he was on his knees. Blood poured out of his sister body as Vance began shedding tears. "I NEED AN AMBULANCE! SOMEONE FUCKING HELP!"



It was near midnight and Robbie Smoke sat on a black stool behind a counter inside of a corner store that he owned and used as a way to launder his money in the north side of town. He had a smirk on his face as he looked up at seeing Benny storm inside the place. "What's up?"

"You had them hit Belle, didn't you?" Benny asked while approaching the counter.

"You already know how this game is played, Benny. You already know how this shit goes."

"I was trying to prevent a war. I've been building all kinds of shit for us. I made a fucking offer. She might've accepted the shit."

Robbie Smoke stood up off the stool with a look of venom on display. "Bitch was going to deny the offer you made and have someone come after us, first chance she got."

"You don't know that, Robbie."

Robbie Smoke chuckled at his best friend and walked from behind the counter. "What you been building for us? What you been doing the last four years I been incarcerated? You been focusing on what? Building barbershops and nail salons?"

"We don't need a war, bro. We don't need that shit. We got some high grade products, that's moving itself. Fuck we beefing over? Over some territories? Who gives a fuck who is selling to who, when we got products that's doing the selling for us?"

Robbie Smoke pointed a finger into Benny's chest, staring his childhood best friend directly in the eyes with a stern look. "This ain't the business side of things, motherfucker. This the streets. This the game. You either kill or be killed, motherfucker. This that part where you gotta get your hands dirty. Police always gon be around. Ya ass needs to get ya mind right homie. We in war. Bitch not gon make a move on me first. You either in, or ya punk ass is out. You decide now, Benny."

Benny rubbed his hands together while twisting his face up at his best friend. "I've always been by ya side, Robbie. I'm in, my man."

"Good. Put the word out that I got $50,000 for Vance head. I want his punk ass hit. Understood?"

"Yeah... I get the message." Benny said with a look of disdain as he then proceeded to walk out of the store.




Queen City


Chapter 6


The next day


The news covered the incident pertaining to 'Belle's Pleasure'. Four victims were shot, two were dead, and the other two were in critical condition, one of which was Belle. The streets of Queen City were talking and the war was now in full effect between Belle's crew and the Smoke Out Crew.

Vance sat in a peach colored chair inside of the hospital hallway, running his hands over his dreadlocks. He couldn't believe that his sister had been shot multiple times. Vance always looked up to his sister and knew what had to be done. He couldn't let others think that his team was weak. He had to make a statement, and lead his sister's crew into battle.

A short and athletically built Caucasian man with short brown hair and a goatee approached Vance. The man wore a black short sleeve collared shirt, navy blue jeans and black shoes. He cleared his throat and exhaled. "I'm Detective Angelo McGee, Queen City Police Department."

"I told the officers last night that I didn't see anything." Vance said trying to shrug off the detective.

"Mr Witherspoon, let's be honest for a second, shall we? Your sister is lay my up in a hospital bed on this morning because of the lifestyle you two are in. Your sister was the intended target due to a drug war. Three customers at her club were shot, two are dead, the other is fighting for their life. Do you really want this bloodshed to further?"

Vance stood up while placing his hands behind his back. "I don't know anything about a 'drug war'. My sister is a legitimate business professional."

"Nice. Nice lie. One of these days you two are going to get caught, and when that happens... let's see if others that are aligned with you, remain silent. Here's my card. Call me when you've had a change of heart, and you want to discuss something." The detective held his hand out with his card. "Take it."


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