Mickey Rice had been Anton's trusted right-hand man for decades, diligently earning his loyalty. Now, the moment was near for Mickey to retire from his position, a significant transition given the syndicate's typical reluctance to let key figures step away. After years of overseeing the seventeen warehouses under the Blue faction's control, he found himself filled with concern about whether everything would continue to operate smoothly in his absence. The weight of responsibility had become second nature to him, and the thought of stepping away left him anxious about the future of the operations he had meticulously managed for so long. Mickey pushed aside his thoughts and made his way downstairs, where he came face-to-face with his wife, Brett. After almost nine years of marriage, Brett, the mother of three of his thirteen children, still appeared to be on edge around him, a sense of unease lingering in their relationship despite nearly a decade together. “Are you going out?” Brett asked.

"Exports today," Mickey replied. Brett released a soft, nervous laugh. “Right. Of course. I forgot again.”

Mickey gave her a reassuring smile. “It's okay, Brett. Where are the kids?”

“Oh,” Brett took a moment to think. “Miranda and the others went to Rose Hills to get their school uniforms fitted, but M.J. went to Frank's; it's Tiffany's weekend.” “I know, but Tiff's out of town. I don't want M.J. wearing out his welcome at the Garrett house,” he said.

Brett asked hesitantly, "Should I call him?"

"No, have Jade or one of the girls invite him for dinner when they get back." Mickey checked his watch. "Gotta go. Love you."

He kissed Brett's cheek, and she replied softly, "Love you," as he left.