Chairman of the Montana Liquor Board

At the crack of dawn, Dante, unbothered by the possibility of being scrutinized, got into a black truck driven by Crocodile and headed to the building where the man who had previously denied him a liquor license for his pub awaited.

He knew perfectly well that without this license, he couldn't open the pub, which was critical for solving many of his problems and supporting his family.

If he couldn't resolve this through formal channels, he'd have to resort to darker methods—a scenario he was determined to avoid to maintain his clean record.

"Is this the place?" Dante asked, studying the building in front of him with curiosity.

Crocodile nodded slightly, confirming they'd arrived at the right location.

Wearing a sharp black suit, Dante slid a ring with a concealed blade onto his right knuckle. As they approached the entrance, he asked, "Are they in position?"

"The guys will move if things get ugly, boss," Crocodile assured. A towering man with bulging muscles, Crocodile had been working for Dante for five months.

All of Dante's associates shared a common thread: they owed him. Whether it was for saving sick siblings, aiding parents with complicated medical conditions, or ensuring their children received care, Dante had handled their worries. In return, they worked for him with unwavering loyalty.

"Stay close."

Dante walked into the reception area and addressed the woman at the desk. "I have a meeting with Malcolm Beck."

The receptionist glanced at Dante suspiciously before replying, "Mr. Beck is currently in another meeting."

Dante smiled faintly and said, "Miss, I'm a very impatient man. If Mr. Beck doesn't see me in the next few minutes, the next meeting will be on my terms."

"Let me make a call," the visibly nervous receptionist stammered.

She had been instructed to stall Dante as long as possible, but his direct threat unnerved her.

Dante, however, didn't care whether the Beck brothers considered him arrogant or rude. His frustration was mounting—especially since he had guests at home—and he wasn't going to let anyone toy with him like they were trying to do.

"Crocodile, bring the car," Dante commanded, applying more pressure.

Before he could leave, the receptionist called out, "Please wait, sir! Just one moment."

"Is he in a meeting or not?" Dante asked, confused.

"He can see you now."

"Finally." Dante smirked and gestured for her to lead the way.

...

Inside the Office

The Beck brothers were waiting for Dante, keeping a careful eye on the time.

"Only two minutes," one brother noted.

"I know," Malcolm Beck replied.

"We barely stalled him for two minutes, and now we're doing what he wants," one remarked.

Malcolm frowned at his brother. "I'm aware, but we need this connection if we want what his family has."

"I'm just saying..."

"Patience, brother," Malcolm said firmly.

When the office door opened, Malcolm was surprised to see a man who exuded authority, not the young upstart he had imagined.

Dante entered the room, accompanied by his towering bodyguard, and took the empty seat in front of Malcolm's desk. "I heard from my assistant that you wanted to meet with me. While I don't see the reason, I must admit, I'm intrigued."

"I simply wanted to clarify some details with you," Malcolm began, spinning a web of vague statements about the future of Montana.

Dante wasn't interested. He knew there was a much bigger motive behind this pointless chatter.

"Let me tell you, I know your father!" Malcolm exclaimed, pouring himself a drink.

"We know him quite well," his brother chimed in from a nearby desk.

Dante smiled faintly. "Everyone knows my father. There isn't a man in this country who doesn't covet his land, perhaps as much as you do."

"What are you implying?"

"I don't like games, Mr. Beck. I've looked into you, just as you've looked into me. You think—or rather, you're convinced—that I'm the weak link in my family simply because I'm the youngest. But people often make mistakes when they judge me."

"Now then, I plan to open my pub this weekend. If I can't, I'll lose a significant amount of money I hadn't planned to lose. So, unless you have a legitimate reason to deny me the liquor license, I'll see you in court."

Malcolm hesitated. Dante's calm demeanor and blunt honesty were unsettling. He couldn't decide if it was arrogance or pure confidence driving this man.