Through The Smoke
Dean Russo sipped at his whiskey, cigar in between his fingers. There was so much smoke, he could hardly even see the men in front of him. He had to wave his hand in front of his face to clear his vision. It was midnight by then and he hadn’t moved an in in about a half hour. He needed times like these. Just to relax. no matter how noisy and aggravating his men may be, playing pool and choosing shit music on the back room’s jukebox. He sighed, disregarding the woman next to him, who had been leaning on his arm, just for show.
He put his mouth on his cigar and inhaled, the flavor satisfied him to the fullest. He shooed away most people who tried to talk to him, or he just didn’t listen to a word they said, until he got a tap on his shoulder.
“Someone is here to see you.”
















