Deals

Arell found himself at Pharrell's studio, Pharrell was at the mixing board, his eyes focused on the screen in front of him as he made adjustments to a track. Arell sat back on the couch, sipping on a bottle of water and letting the music wash over him. The beat was infectious, and he could already tell it was going to be a hit. Pharrell had a way of bringing out the best in everyone he worked with, and Arell was no exception.

"So, how you feeling about the project?" Pharrell asked, glancing over his shoulder at Arell.

Arell shrugged, his mind still preoccupied with the lyrics he'd written earlier. "It's coming together, but I think we could do more. The track list is solid, but I'm wondering if we need to add a few more features, you know, to give it that extra push."

Pharrell nodded thoughtfully, turning back to the board and playing with the levels. "Features can definitely elevate a project, but it's all about finding the right balance. You don't want it to feel overcrowded. Who are you thinking about?"

Arell pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, considering his options. His artist were talented, but not all of them were ready for a project of this magnitude. He needed someone who could bring something unique to the table, someone who could match the energy and vibe of the album.

Jarad, Jahseh, or Stokely are the options. YoungBoy's not ready for this kind of project yet, and Cochise, he's not ready either. And Becalis… nah, not for this one.

"I have a few artist under my label I can choose from." Arell finally said after a moment of contemplation.

Pharrell nodded again, a small smile playing on his lips.

Arell leaned back, thinking about the tracks he had already. "I'm thinking of sending them 'M.O.B.' and seeing what they come up with. It's got that hard-hitting beat, and I think they could really bring something special to it."

Pharrell nodded, already imagining the possibilities. "That's a good call. And what about Post? You could get him on another track if you think it'll fit."

Arell nodded, the idea of bringing in Jarad, Jahseh, and Stokely starting to take shape in his mind. "Yeah, let's do that. I'll send them M.O.B. and see what they can bring to the table. As for Post, I can get him on M.O.B as well. It's got that vibe I know he'll kill."

Pharrell grinned, clearly pleased with the direction things were taking. "That sounds like a solid plan. Just make sure everything flows naturally—you don't want it to feel forced."

Arell leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression on his face. Pharrell's advice had been echoing in his mind since their last conversation. The idea of actually taking time to enjoy his life, to celebrate his successes, had begun to resonate with him more and more.

"You know," Arell began, breaking the comfortable silence, "I've been thinking about what you said the other day—about celebrating."

Pharrell turned in his chair, giving Arell his full attention. "That's good to hear, man. You've been grinding so hard, but you need to take time for yourself, too. You've earned it."

Arell nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I've decided I'm going to head out to L.A. again for a few days. Spend some time with India, just relax and get my mind right."

Pharrell's smile widened, his approval evident. "That's the right move, Arell. You need that balance, especially with everything you've got going on. It's important to recharge, to connect with the people who matter most."

"Yeah," Arell agreed, his mind already drifting to the thought of being with India, away from the stress and chaos that had been consuming him. "I haven't spent enough time... living ."

Pharrell nodded knowingly. "And when you come back, you'll be ready to finish this project with a clear mind. Trust me, that's going to make all the difference."

With the decision made, Arell felt a sense of relief wash over him. He knew he needed this time away, and it felt good to have something to look forward to beyond the constant hustle. But for now, he had work to do.

He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright, man, I'm going to head out and get to practice. I've got dance and vocal lessons lined up, and I can't slack on that."

Pharrell chuckled, standing up to give Arell a quick dap. "Go handle your business. You're doing the right thing by putting in the work. Just remember to balance it out with some downtime."

"Will do," Arell said with a grin as he grabbed his water bottle and headed for the door. "I'll hit you up later and let you know how it goes with the features."

Pharrell nodded. "Looking forward to it. And remember, enjoy L.A. You deserve it."

The drive to the dance studio was quick, the traffic lighter than usual. Arell pulled up to the building and stepped inside, greeted by the familiar sounds of music and the sight of dancers warming up.

And after a productive session at the studio, Arell felt the familiar post-practice ache in his muscles, but it was the good kind—the kind that told him he was pushing himself, getting better every day. The drive back to the mansion was quiet, the evening sun casting long shadows over the road as he made his way home.

When he arrived at the mansion, he found Geoffrey already there, seated in the living room with a glass of whiskey in hand and a pile of folders on the coffee table. The faint sound of jazz played from the speakers, filling the room with a mellow vibe. Geoffrey looked up as Arell entered, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Back from practice?" Geoffrey asked, raising his glass in a casual greeting.

"Yeah," Arell replied, dropping his gym bag by the door and making his way over to the couch. He grabbed a bottle of water from the coffee table and took a long drink before sitting down. "It was a good session. I'm starting to feel more comfortable with the choreography."

"Good to hear," Geoffrey said, his tone warm. "You're putting in the work, and it's showing. How's the vocal training coming along?"

"It's going well," Arell replied, leaning back against the couch. "Mia's been pushing me hard, but I can tell it's making a difference."

Geoffrey nodded, pleased. "That's what I like to hear. You've got a lot riding on this project, but you're handling it well."

Arell paused for a moment, his mind drifting back to the car chase earlier. He hadn't had a chance to ask Geoffrey about what happened, and the question had been nagging at him all day. "By the way, what happened to those people who were following me earlier?"

Geoffrey's expression darkened slightly, but his voice remained calm. "They've been taken care of. You don't have to worry about them anymore."

Arell studied Geoffrey's face, searching for any hint of what "taken care of" might mean. But Geoffrey was a master at keeping his emotions in check, and Arell didn't need to press further. Geoffrey had always handled the more dangerous aspects of their lives with a certain level of efficiency, and Arell trusted him to do what needed to be done.

"Alright," Arell said finally, nodding. "Thanks for that."

Geoffrey waved off the gratitude, as if it were nothing. "It's what I'm here for. We can't have distractions getting in the way of your work."

Arell shifted gears, deciding to share his plans with Geoffrey. "I'm thinking of heading out to L.A. soon. Spend some time with India, take a break from everything for a few days."

Geoffrey nodded, his expression softening. "That's a good idea. You've been pushing yourself hard, and you need to recharge."

"Yeah, I think it'll help clear my head," Arell agreed. "And when I get back, I'll be ready to dive back into the project. Speaking of which, the mixtape is coming along really well. Pharrell and I were talking about adding a few more features, I'm definitely getting the Florida boys on."

Geoffrey's eyes lit up with interest. "That's great to hear. And with the progress we're making on Infinity, everything's coming together nicely."

"Yeah," Arell said, excitement creeping into his voice. "Now that we can ramp up production early, i'm really excited about it."

Geoffrey nodded approvingly. "I saw the designs you sent in. They're impressive. The one you called 'Crayon'—that really stood out to me. I like how you manipulated the colors with that old-school leather vibe. It's unique, and I think it's going to take off."

Arell smiled, pleased that Geoffrey had noticed the details. "Thanks, man. I put a lot of thought into that one. I wanted it to have a nostalgic feel but still be modern and fresh."

"You nailed it," Geoffrey said with a grin. "We're going to mass-produce it, and I'm confident it'll do well. Also, with the momentum we've got, a lot more money will start coming in. We can go ahead and start setting up with the real estate investments— the loan as well, this is all on you."

Arell's smile widened as he nodded in agreement with Geoffrey.

"Alright, I'm going to grab something from the kitchen," Arell said, standing up and stretching. "I'll catch up with you in a bit."

Geoffrey nodded, returning to the documents spread out before him. "Take your time."

Arell walked through the mansion, the hardwood floors creaking softly under his feet as he made his way to the kitchen. As soon as he entered, his eyes were drawn to Ares, who was already bounding toward him with unbridled energy.

"Hey, buddy," Arell greeted warmly, crouching down to scratch Ares behind the ears. The puppy responded with a happy wiggle, his tail wagging furiously. Arell chuckled as he reached into a nearby cabinet and pulled out a small bag of treats.

"Let's see if you've been paying attention to those training sessions," Arell said, holding up a treat.

Ares immediately sat down, his ears perked up in anticipation. Arell smiled, pleased with the pup's progress. "Good boy," he praised, handing Ares the treat. The puppy devoured it eagerly, his tail wagging even faster.

"Okay, let's try something else," Arell said, standing up and taking a few steps back. "Ares, lay down."

Ares hesitated for a moment, his large paws shifting slightly as he tried to remember the command. After a few seconds, he lowered himself onto the floor, his eyes never leaving Arell.

"That's my boy," Arell said, tossing another treat to Ares, who caught it mid-air with surprising agility for a puppy his size. Arell spent a few more minutes running through basic commands, rewarding Ares each time he followed correctly.

After playing with Ares for a while longer, Arell grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge and made his way to the home theater. The room was dimly lit, with plush leather seats arranged in front of a massive screen. Arell settled into one of the seats, picking up the remote and scrolling through the options before settling on a movie he'd been meaning to watch.

Meanwhile, Geoffrey remained in the living room, the smooth sounds of jazz playing softly in the background as he focused on the financial documents spread out before him.

The people he had taken care of earlier were a loose end, a threat to the empire.

Removing them was necessary. To protect Arell and their growing enterprise, he would have to make more decisions like that in the future—decisions that required a certain detachment, a willingness to do whatever it took.

While Arell was focused on the music and the business ventures they were establishing, Geoffrey had been quietly expanding their influence in a different direction—one that Arell might not fully approve of, but one that was essential for their survival and growth.

Weapons trade. It was a dangerous game, but the potential profits were enormous. Geoffrey had seen the demand firsthand, particularly in regions where conflict and instability were rife. While drugs were a lucrative business, they came with significant risks, not least of which was the constant threat of law enforcement, not to mention, Arell's disapprovement. Weapons, on the other hand, offered a different kind of opportunity—one that was both more profitable and less traceable if handled correctly.

Geoffrey had begun laying the groundwork months ago. Using their contacts within the scrap and welding industries, they had started to produce makeshift weapons—small arms, improvised explosives, and other tools of violence that could be sold to those willing to pay. It was a way to diversify their operations, to ensure they weren't putting all their eggs in one basket.

He had also been reaching out to certain military contacts, those who dealt in the gray areas of arms procurement and disposal. The plan was to acquire military-grade weapons—guns, ammunition, even vehicles that were slated for destruction or decommissioning—and repurpose them for sale on the black market.

It was a risky move, one that required careful planning and the right connections. But Geoffrey was confident in his ability to navigate the complexities of the arms trade. He had already made inroads with a few key players, establishing relationships that would be crucial when the time came to expand their operations.

The real challenge would be managing Arell's reaction. Geoffrey knew him well enough to know that Arell would have reservations about getting involved in weapons. While Arell was no stranger to the darker side of their business, this was a step beyond anything they had done before. Geoffrey would need to present the idea in a way that emphasized the benefits—how it would secure their empire, provide them with the resources they needed to grow, and protect them from external threats.

For now, though, Geoffrey kept those thoughts to himself. There was no need to burden Arell with the details just yet. The time would come when they would need to have that conversation, but until then, Geoffrey would continue to handle the logistics, ensuring that everything was in place when the time came to make their move. Everything served a purpose, and it was far more than just weapons.