Yellowstone: Wind in the Smoke

"Are you sure you don't need me there?" Dante made a last-minute call at the airport before boarding the plane to London.

"You can work in London if you love business administration as much as you claim during meals. I remember you used to skip classes and hide in the kitchen to avoid being caught. Enjoy the trip, appreciate your youth, and stop calling me," John ended the call, hoping his son wouldn't bother him further.

Dante shook his head with a calm expression and murmured, "Always so hard to understand, Dad. I just hope you don't call me mid-flight..."

Taking his seat in first class, Dante focused on the online news, soon stumbling upon a program titled, "What the World Hides from Us."

Clicking on the video, Dante watched the screen intently, captivated by what he was seeing.

The trip had been sudden, but he hoped there wouldn't be any misunderstandings. Explaining the reason for his journey was simple enough.

What worried Dante least in life were the enemies seeking his family's land. That place was meaningless to him.

For Dante, family mattered most—not land that no one could take to their grave.

While the Yellowstone Ranch might hold significant value to others, Dante saw it as something that could easily be sold. He knew both Beth and Jamie felt the same; the ranch was indifferent to them.

If they fought over their family's land now, it was only because they all loved their father. Each of them wanted to make John proud, even though he had rarely given a compliment without a reason.

Of course, this dynamic was something everyone was familiar with.

Dante, on the other hand, was more concerned about whether there were people out there plotting to kill him.

Montana was his sanctuary, but outside that territory, anyone could easily reach him.

"I hope coming to London was a good idea…"

…

The Continental Hotel, London

Having landed some time ago, Dante headed straight to this hotel, reserved exclusively for professional assassins.

No one unrelated to this world could stay here, making it a unique place that catered only to a specific clientele.

For this reason, nobody at the hotel was someone you'd want to cross. Every guest here knew how to kill and had done so countless times, each special in their own way.

But Dante, as a mafia boss and a weapons supplier to many of these hotels, had the privilege of staying here. Additionally, many of his agents were trained assassins.

"We've arrived at the Continental. Have a pleasant trip, sir," the driver said, glancing at Dante through the rearview mirror after parking outside the hotel.

Dante nodded, stepped out of the car, and walked toward the stunningly modern building—one of the most impressive hotels he'd visited in a long time.

The people in the lobby were mostly dressed in suits. Some wore colorful attire, others long dresses, and a few kept their outfits simple yet equally striking.

The hotel's atmosphere was distinct. While everyone acted normal, they were more alert than ever, surrounded by potential enemies.

It was well known that one rule at the Continental must never be broken: no killing, no weapons, no fighting. Violating this rule meant death for the offenders.

Dante felt many eyes evaluating him. He wore a simple black suit with built-in armor, standard for professional assassins, and carried a special suit in his bag for more chaotic situations.

Walking up to the reception desk, Dante looked at the woman who seemed to be the hotel's concierge and his point of contact.

"Welcome to the Continental. How may I assist you?" she asked pleasantly, glancing at some documents.

"The best room you have, please." Dante placed a few coins on the counter—currency used exclusively in places like this.

The woman looked up, assessed Dante's appearance, and gave a slight nod. "Room 455. Have a pleasant stay."

Dante nodded faintly and headed toward the elevator, unaware of the many eyes watching him with a different intensity than they had for others.

One man in particular read a message on his device with a special request: "Eliminate the contact of Susie Glass, who will meet with her twelve hours after her flight. Proceed with caution—target is extremely dangerous."

No one knew Dante's identity, but they did know Susie Glass. She had met Felipe Lobos on the day Dante became part of the Lobos family, rising as one of the most significant distributors in the Mexican drug cartel.

What the assassins knew was that their target would meet Susie Glass at the Continental. Beyond that, their motivations were indifferent.

Now that Dante had arrived in London, trouble had followed him—and it wasn't going to be easy to resolve.