Disclaimer: I do not own the Sopranos or any of the characters.

The music pounded hard against my ears as blue and red strobe lights flashed to the beat. I pushed through the wave of sweaty bodies, girls in tight dresses, and people wildly swinging their arms in the air. The Crazy Horse was more crowded than usual. That was good. Things were looking up for the business.

I flicked my head in greeting to a couple of the guys drinking on the red leather couch. Danny was in the middle of telling some story, flinging his arms dramatically with a glass in one hand. When I caught his eye, he immediately stopped his story and stood up to greet me, his mouth stretched in a large grin.

"A.J., my man," Danny boomed, "Where ya been? We've been waiting for ya!"

He pounded my back heartily and shoved a drink into my hand.

"Well, I'm here now," I said as we sank into the leather couch. I threw my head back and gulped the drink down. As I wiped my mouth, my eyes scanned the club once more. The place was crawling with people. People on the dance floor, people in the hallways trying to talk over the pulsing music, and people lounging on the couches ordering drinks.

"How's business today?" I asked, my eyes still searching the place.

"Man, it's a big one tonight," Danny mumbled as he lit a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He handed one to me and lit another for himself. "Lots of orders. The boys are on it, though."

I nodded and took a drag of the cigarette. Sinking further into the couch, I closed my eyes and tried to get the smoke to float out the way my dad does. Inhale, wait, then exhale. The loud pounding rhythm of the music and the sight of the smoke drifting between my eyes calmed me, as usual. The white smoke floated in the air in front of me slowly, like fog kissing the ground on a sharp, cool morning. I lazily pursed my lips and let out a slow, heavy breath, causing the smoke to swirl away from me.

My mind wandered to my dad's Cuban cigars, the ones he was always showing off to his friends and guests. Uncle Paulie, Sil, Pussy, Christopher. Loud relatives who eyed me sharply, as if trying to decide how much of my father I had in me. Aunts with sharp nails that dug into my shoulders when they praised me for having broad, beefy shoulders "just like your father's". Another puff of smoke escaped from my lips as I chuckled grimly to myself.

I knew how proud he was of those damn cigars, how he only saved them for when guests came over. Or those quiet times, once in a while, where he'd sit silently on the couch, sitting so still he looked as though he were made of stone. Well, made of stone except for the big, fat cigar lying between his fingers and swirls of smoke drifting from his mouth in the way that only he can seem to be able to make them drift. In those rare, quiet moments, his eyes would get this glassy look in them, as if he weren't really here. As if nothing else existed but him and the smoke folding around him like a veil separating him from the rest of the world. My dad was always like that. Once in a while, he'd get in these curious moods, and we all knew to just leave him alone when he was like that. Start spouting out some philosophical bullshit, mumbling something about Gary Cooper. He was always going on about that guy.

I continued smoking and talking with Danny and a couple other guys. Occasionally, some guys would approach me and try to act like we're friends or something. As if I knew them. They'd laugh and call me "A.J.", and ask me how things were going. They punched my shoulder and smiled at me, but I knew they were just trying to get in with us and the business. We weren't doing too bad ourselves, making dough everyday. I distributed the money myself and saw that we were going off to a pretty good start. Danny did the managing though, and the other boys did most of the actual distributing. I smiled coolly at these ass-kissers, but I wasn't friendly and I didn't say much to them, them with their blabbering and false grins. After all, we couldn't let just anyone join the business. I knew these types, anyways. They were attracted by the idea of making big bucks, hanging out in the club all night, and of course, having the glory of being with one of the Sopranos. They all thought that my dad helped out with the business, and that business couldn't fail because he would watch over it. I scoffed. My dad was too old fashioned for hard drugs. I remember how stressed he was when Christopher was having all those problems and going to rehab. Guys came up to him almost everyday, I bet, and offered to go into the business with him, but he always refused. He never did hard drugs, the stubborn old man. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. Well, this was the new millennium, and it was time for the next generation to take over things and strike it rich in the business.

My thoughts were suddenly lost in a thick swirl of smoke as a blondie with long legs and cherry red lips plopped herself into the seat next to me. She tossed her long golden hair back and settled her green eyes on me. It was dark in here, but somehow her golden hair still shimmered whenever she moved her head. I bet she knew already knew that.

She leaned in towards me and smiled. "You're A.J. Soprano, aren't you?"

I took a long drag from my cigarette and ran my eyes over her tight black dress. The hundreds of sequins on her dress glimmered with every breath she took and drew my gaze to her hips. The scent of her perfume wafted from her, but I didn't smell any alcohol on her. It was time to change that.

I grabbed a glass and held it out to her. "Yeah, I am. What can I do for you?"

"Well, It's Saturday night, and I'm bored." She took a sip, her green eyes never leaving mine. "You got any good stuff tonight?" She tilted her head meaningfully.

I blinked calmly. Another customer.

"Yeah, we've got some. However, let me introduce you to my friend, Danny, here."

We stood up, and slipping an arm lightly around her waist, I pointed to Danny on the other couch, laughing with a group of guys.

"Danny can help you out tonight. Anything you want, just ask him," I said.

She pursed her lips and turned her green eyes to me. "But I'd rather hang out with you. Aren't you the boss? I thought you ran the business." Her fingertips ran lightly along the buttons of my shirt, pressing against my chest.

I looked at her dancing eyes and smirked. Danny and the boys were usually the ones who did the actual selling, not me. I knew it was important to put some distance between myself and the actual selling but...oh what the hell? She was hot, and I was ready for some action. Besides, I knew where all the goods were stored anyways.

I nodded my agreement and tightened my arm around her waist. We made our way through the throng of sweaty dancers as I led us to the back room, where the office was. Before I gave her the stuff, I made sure she was loaded with cash. She was asking for some pretty pricey shit, which surprised me because she didn't look like the type to do drugs that hard. But I shrugged as we started getting high and enjoying ourselves.

We made our way to the dance floor and danced to the throbbing rhythm. She wasn't so great of a dancer, but she let me run my hands over her. As the drinks kept coming in and the drugs were taking effect, my mind became cloudier and everything became blurrier. The flashing strobe lights burned my eyes, making the throng of sweaty bodies around me spin, changing her eyes from green to different colors. Things stopped making sense and I stopped caring as we continued dancing to the pounding music.

At some point, the girl slipped her arms around my neck tightly and whispered in my ear, "Come on, A.J. Let's go over to my place."

I nodded blindly and followed her as she took my hand. We were weaving our way through the crowd when it suddenly occurred to me that I didn't even know the blondie's name. Shuffling behind her as she pulled me along, I frowned and tried to remember if she ever told me her name. Maybe she did, and I just forgot. That's probably it. Her name meant little to me by the time we reached the door and stepped out of the Crazy Horse. A blast of the night's cool air, shockingly cool compared to the hot and suffocating atmosphere inside the club, greeted us as she led me through the parking lot.

I squinted my eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden darkness. The lot was surprisingly empty. I mean sure, it was loaded with parked cars...but something felt off. My muddled brain finally realized that the lot felt different because usually there were people smoking outside the club or taking a break from the dancing. But now, there was no one here except the girl and me. I glanced at her, wondering not only why she was walking so quickly but why she was gripping my hand so tightly, as if she was afraid I was going to run away or something.

"Hey, slow down," I said, my voice slurring.

She glanced at me, the moonlight revealing her anxious face, strangely tight with worry, and her mouth, no longer full cherry lips, but a rigid line. She pulled me further along until I almost stumbled. Suddenly we were past the parking lot and in a small forest clearing. She let go of my hand and breathed heavily, her eyes coolly searching the area. I frowned as I glanced at the bushes and trees surrounding us.

"Where's your car?" I mumbled to her, "Why are we here? I thought we were going to your-"

My breath hitched as someone tackled me from behind. In a few seconds, I was thrown to the ground, my stomach hitting the dirt painfully. I yelped in panic, and my mind tried to find its way out of my muddled and cloudy state.

"What the -" I cried as two more men stepped out from the shadows, gripped my arms harshly, and jerked me to my feet. I trembled as I tried to bolt, my feet kicking and flailing, trying to hit my attackers. My heart pounded rapidly and there was a roaring in my ears as I continued to struggle. I threw my head back and tried to scream as loud as I could, but a hand gripped my throat. My voice choked and I was lowered to the ground.

I felt the cold steel around my hands as one of the men clipped handcuffs around me. Two of the men held my chest and feet down on the ground as I continued to flail and kick. Despite all the drinking and smoking I did that night, my mind was never more awake and my body never more alert.

"Do you know who my father is?" I screamed, my voice cracking with fear "You sons of bitches, how dare you-"

"Shut him up," spat one of the men, and a white rag was forced between my teeth.

I moaned and managed to kick the third man hard on the shin. He grunted angrily, drew his arm back, and punched me in the face. The impact was blinding, and I gasped for breath, my eyes rolling in my head.

The other man held me down as I felt another pounding fist, but this time on my stomach. For a minute, all I could do was gasp and splutter as my breath came back to me in hitches. The force of that punch left me sprawling in pain on the ground, but at last I was quiet.

As my eyes struggled to focus on my attackers, they landed on the blonde girl watching us silently from behind the three men, her green eyes intently on mine. Her skin glistened with perspiration and wild strands of hair fell between her eyes, but her face was set in a grim and cool expression.

The man who punched me leaned down in front of my bleeding face, blocking out the view of the blonde bitch. I panted heavily and tried to understand what was going on. Who were these guys? I thought frantically. Was this a hit? Why me? What did I do?

"Hello, A.J. Soprano." The man gazed at me calmly. He pulled out from his suit his wallet, and from there gleamed a golden badge.

His angular face, highlighted by the moonlight and the shadows, smiled at me grimly. "F.B.I." he said, holding the golden badge in front of my face. "Mr. Soprano, you're under arrest."

A/N: Well, that's chapter one! It was actually an assignment in my AP Literature class to write the first chapter of my own novel. I chose to write this sequel to The Sopranos. I have yet to write the second chapter, but I'd love to get your feedback on this chapter in the meantime. Thanks for reading you guys! Sopranos fans unite.