The storm Rages

Chapter 11

Down a narrow hallway, Ace led Mikey into a back office that looked more like a lounge. Mikey sat down, calm and collected. The office was decked out like he was auditioning for a gangster movie—plush blue velvet everywhere, gold accents, and a bar stocked like it was happy hour all day. Mikey stood, cool as ice, while Ace made a show of pouring himself a glass of bourbon, his rings clinking against the bottle.

"Sit down, man," Ace said, waving to a chair. "You walked all up in my house, might as well tell me what's on your mind."

Mikey didn't waste time. "Stay out of our territory."

Ace paused, glass halfway to his lips. He raised an eyebrow, then let out a laugh—big and booming, like he just heard the punchline of the century. "Oh, hold up. You came all the way over here to tell me that?" He leaned back in his chair, still grinning like a fool. "Man, I thought you was gonna come in here and say somethin' serious."

Mikey's eyes stayed locked on Ace, unblinking, unbothered.

Ace took a sip of his drink, smacking his lips loud. "Let me get this straight—y'all think y'all own the streets now, huh? I mean, you got what, a couple blocks? A liquor store or two?" He shook his head, laughing again. "Y'all small-time, man. I'm runnin' a whole operation over here, shit nigga you don't get to tell me what to do."

Ace's grin got wider as he leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mockery. "You want war? Fine. But see, what y'all don't get is, I ain't workin' solo, homie. I got people. Powerful people. Folks that make things happen." He tapped the side of his nose. "You think them guns and drugs just appear outta nowhere?"

He kept going, talking with his hands, voice rising and falling like he was performing for an audience. "See, I got backers. Real money. I'm talkin' guns, I'm talkin' products that make those little baggies you got look like baby powder. And my people, they ain't scared of y'all. Hell, they don't even know y'all exist."

Mikey stayed silent, just watching Ace run his mouth, catching every little detail, every slip-up. He was cataloging it all, each word like a piece of a puzzle he was putting together in his head.

Ace took another swig of his drink, smirking. "Man, y'all don't even know who you messin' with. But that's cool. Keep pushin', see what happens."

Mikey tilted his head, his voice steady and calm. "You done?"

Ace laughed again, waving him off. "Man, I'm just gettin' started. You come up in here, tellin' me where I can and can't go. Like I said, y'all small-time. You don't even know how deep this goes."

Mikey stood up, eyes hard. "Last warning. Stay out of our hood."

Ace grinned, almost giddy with the thrill of it all. "Oh, I'm shakin' in my boots. You know where to find me when y'all ready to talk serious." He raised his glass in a mock toast. "See you around, Mikey."

Mikey didn't say another word. He just walked out, the office door swinging shut behind him. As he left, he didn't miss the looks from Ace's men, some of them watching, some of them laughing, but Mikey had the information he needed.