On the way to the city, Dante observed many of the things that had changed in the area. Undoubtedly, the era of modernity was slowly consuming them.
There was no doubt that people in this place would benefit from the changes, but they were also at risk of losing their hos as prices rose or more people arrived, hoping to take advantage of the lower costs compared to a big city.
Dante’s pub would also only be accessible to those who had the money or, in special cases, won who fit the appearance standards.
"This is a good place, but if we let these people in as if we were forced to adapt to their lifestyle before they ca here, we wouldn’t be protecting what rightfully belongs to us," Dante repeated his father’s words, but as a businessman, he knew he could also take advantage of these opportunities.
William understood what his boss was saying. He also enjoyed this lifestyle without caras on every corner.
They had to adapt. One way or another, if they could establish themselves here, they could be sure they’d never get caught.
"By the way, we have the suit center in developnt to establish our central domain in the city," William reminded, ntioning so things he had been working on since arriving in Montana.
The tailoring business was just a cover to stash weapons for Dante’s agents, many of whom were retired veterans involved in the business.
It was one of many operations Dante had devised to conceal his criminal enterprises.
"Drop off at the shop. I think I’ll need a few things," Dante said, knowing things could get a bit hectic.
But at that mont, he received an important call from one of the logistics branches handling the drug couriers for his organization.
"What’s the problem?" Dante knew they wouldn’t call unless there was an issue.
"One of our girls was attacked."
Dante glanced in the rearview mirror at William and asked, "Are we the only ones who were attacked?"
"No, Ghost’s organization was also hit, and they’re asking if we had anything to do with it."
"Anything to do with the attacks? Ghost knows perfectly well I’m not interested in his cocaine field. White powder is too risky to organize." Dante more or less understood where things were heading now.
If his structured organization was attacked, followed by Ghost’s, it was only natural they’d wonder if Dante was behind it, wrongly assuming he was framing them as the culprits.
That’s why Dante ended the call and, without hesitation, dialed Ghost’s contact number.
"Zz... Hello?" A deep voice ca through the intercom.
Dante, watching the road ho grow shorter, said, "I’m the leader of Sons of Anarchy. I got your ssage a little late, which is why I’m calling now."
"Zz... Do you know who’s attacking us?" Ghost’s voice didn’t sound accusatory toward Dante. Both knew their businesses were more about leadership than gangsters wielding guns.
"Believe , if I knew, they’d be dead by now. But whoever is attacking us must know our business structure well." Dante paused briefly and added, "They killed one of my girls, and they stole money from you. I think they got lucky with , but with you, it was personal."
"Zz... Are you saying the main attack is targeting my organization?"
"Think of it this way—who would love for us to fight? We’ve made it clear we don’t interfere with each other’s business, but soone’s planting the idea that might not be true."
Ghost remained silent for a few monts before saying, "Zz... I’ll look into it more deeply."
"If you need toys, support, or soone to do the job, just tell where to point them. You know how I operate. We’d be doing each other a huge favor by focusing on what we do best." Dante said before ending the call.
William, at the wheel, asked, "Do you want to dig deeper?"
"Just focus on people around Ghost. It could be that the one who attacked us ca from their side, not ours," Dante replied, putting his phone away.
These problems were no small matter. If soone touched what belonged to him, it was like he himself was being attacked, and they definitely had to retaliate.
For now, he would pull all his dancers from the market until he knew what was happening. After all, he didn’t earn much from selling weed to high-ranking buyers anyway.
...
In an undisclosed location in New York, a heavy silence filled the room.
"What did that psycho say?" A white man sitting in front of Ghost asked with a cold expression.
Ghost, better known as Jas St. Patrick, looked at his best friend and business partner, then said, "He said it wasn’t him, but that if we find out, he could handle it."
"The Sons of Anarchy, those sons of bitches would kill a cat if it bit their boss. Why believe those bastards?" Tommy didn’t understand why they believed Dante’s words when his actions had always been offensive, even at the slightest disruption to his business.
If they were attacked, they should respond the sa way and with force.
Jas looked at his impulsive friend and said in a asured tone, "Dan is also soone who wouldn’t look for trouble, especially not with us, considering we move Felipe Lobos’ product. He wouldn’t want to start a war that big if he knows what peace is worth."
"That son of a bitch is crazy, Ghost. He’d kill Felipe Lobos himself if he stood in his way," Tommy said, desperate to find the bastard who had stolen their money with his own hands.
But knowing that wasn’t the way to go, he cald down and thought things through.
"We need to shut down business and wait. If Dan makes a move and the Trinity Sons start searching, they’ll find the culprit before it becos a bigger problem," Jas said, fully aware of what the Trinity Sons could do.
"Do you know how much that would cost us per night?"
"We have no choice. We can’t put anyone out there until we know who hit us," Jas replied, as he made the most rational decisions.
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