Yellowstone: Wind in the Smoke

Lee Dutton entered the house when he heard all the commotion. He looked at his father, John, and asked in a serious tone, "What happened?"

"Your sister Beth happened. You know how she gets around this time of year." John stood up to clean up the mess his daughter had made, but Lee stopped him and took over.

Everyone in the family would let these outbursts slide to avoid adding fuel to the fire—at least they were smart about that.

"She seemed happy to see Dante again."

"Yes, she was happy, but we all know how blunt Dante can be at times, and your sister isn't in the right mindset to handle something like that." John hadn't even had the chance to hug his son.

Things get ruined easily in this house.

But at least they were good at pretending—only on certain occasions, though.

…

Dante, on the other hand, had returned to his room. He looked around briefly before taking off his jacket, revealing traces of blood still on his shirt.

The blood from the previous day hadn't been cleaned thoroughly. There were still marks of blood on his back that had stained parts of his clothes, so they would need to be burned later.

"What a damn mess," he muttered, tossing his clothes aside as he walked toward the bathroom, hoping everything worked.

All he had done without his father noticing was something memorable, but the bad things he had to do weren't so much.

Sighing in frustration, Dante stopped thinking about it for the moment and walked straight to the bathroom. He reached for a bucket of water, holding it with both hands, and splashed his face directly. The cold water hit his cheeks, instantly sobering him up and pulling him out of the exhaustion that had been building from the lack of sleep.

Then he stepped into the shower, where cold water quickly cascaded over his body. Despite the chill, he didn't move, savoring every moment in this place.

The feeling of being home was truly comforting, but he knew that if he wanted to protect what was here, he couldn't stay long.

Just minutes after stepping into the shower, he came out, walking toward the things he needed for personal care.

After wiping the remaining water from his face, he lifted his head and looked at himself in the mirror in front of him. In the reflection stood a twenty-one-year-old man with messy hair and an expression devoid of any good emotions.

Over time, somehow, the lives he had taken—no matter how little he felt about it—had caused subtle but noticeable changes in his personality and dreams. Dante lowered his gaze, looking at the water, and its reflection showed his face with a very different expression.

His tattoos became visible as he looked down, both on his back and his right hand. A large tattoo on his back read "Sons of Anarchy," beneath which there was a detailed skull holding a scythe.

He grabbed a towel and began drying his body. There were several scars across his muscles, many of which were caused by the fights he had been in—memories and marks that reminded him where he came from and what he wanted.

After finishing up, he left the bathroom, got dressed, and picked up the clothes he had arrived in, planning to burn them.

When he finished changing, he received a call: "Zz... Sir, we've completed all the paperwork to open the pub in Montana, just as you requested. It's close to the Yellowstone Ranch."

"What about the land for sale around there?" Dante walked over to his backpack, where he kept his laptop.

"Zz… We've been buying everything at a good price. We're focusing on the ranches that are up for sale, but maintaining them will be a major challenge."

"You know the plan. We'll open farms in those areas discreetly, so we'll stop relying on others to supply us." Dante had his plans. He knew that if he was going to get involved in the drug trade, he had to do it right and become the largest exporter of cannabis.

He would only focus on that drug. Getting involved with those who dealt with white powder was stepping into a world he wasn't ready for yet, and even if he were, that substance really killed people.

"Yes, that's what we agreed on."

Dante walked toward the window to catch some sunlight.

"Zz… By the way, she's looking for you."

"I thought we were good with them. I made everything clear when I mentioned I was stepping away from New York." Dante immediately thought of that woman, his cannabis distributor, who provided him with enough of the drug to have an entire city under control in that field.

"Zz… She seems interested in talking to you. She mentioned she might need your help."

Dante closed his eyes for a moment, then said, "Send her the location of the pub once it's built. I'll meet her there."

"Zz… Understood, sir."

"This is a damn nightmare." Dante set his phone aside, checked the time, and laid down for a moment.

He immediately thought of the woman—Susie Glass. She belonged to a group that handled large-scale cannabis distribution.

She was a high-class woman. Normally, Dante wouldn't have gotten involved in this kind of business unless he had some assurance that the people they worked with were trustworthy.

But when he found out she was reliable, he took the entire city of New York in his hands. He had killed many gang groups for that, but now it was all settled.

"Did that viper fall for my charm?" Dante would have to talk to his sister; he wasn't someone who understood women much.

But he needed to be very careful. Jokes aside, that woman was extremely dangerous, and the last thing he wanted was to have a falling out with his supplier before setting up his own farms.

And now that he thought about it, could she have figured something out?

If it's the latter, then maybe she's looking for him to give him a little warning, fearing their stable deal might fall apart.

Dante smiled slightly at the thought and began sending messages with his disposable phone, giving precise orders on how to prepare to avoid being caught off guard.

"Yes, this is Dante. We need to make some quick changes."