Chapter 10: A New Empire
The warehouse had become more than just a lab. It had evolved into Jesse's kingdom, his base of operations. He spent long hours there, overseeing everything from the cooking process to the distribution network. He was no longer a sidekick—he was the leader.
But with his rise came new problems. The income from his operation was pouring in faster than he could track it, and the last thing Jesse needed was the IRS knocking on his door asking where all the money was coming from.
He had to think ahead.
A Clean Front
Jesse knew it wouldn't be long before someone started asking questions about his sudden wealth. The money had started to stack up—more than he could hide in his old house, more than he could explain with his limited history. He needed a cover, something that would make his income look legitimate.
He thought about it for a few days, turning the problem over in his mind. Then, it came to him.
He needed a front.
Jesse wasn't about to open a chain of car washes or laundromats like Walter might've done. No, Jesse had something different in mind—a legitimate business that could easily explain large sums of cash moving in and out. Something high-end, something that wouldn't attract attention but still provided a plausible excuse.
It wasn't long before he found it: a luxury car dealership.
Jesse had always loved cars. He knew the market, the value of high-end vehicles, and he was familiar with the networks that moved them. He didn't need to run the business himself—he just needed to find a way to buy and sell expensive cars while also making sure the profits from his meth operation didn't raise any red flags.
The Deal
Jesse didn't waste time. He found a small, but reputable, dealership in the suburbs of Albuquerque. It wasn't too flashy, just a modest building with a clean, modern interior and a couple of high-end sports cars on the lot. The owner, a man named Greg, was looking to retire and had been searching for someone to take over the business.
Jesse offered him a deal—he'd buy out the dealership, keeping Greg on as a manager. It was a no-brainer for Greg.
"Look, Jesse, I've been in this business for years, but I'm getting too old for this," Greg said, sipping on his coffee as they sat in the dealership's small office. "You're serious about this, right?"
Jesse nodded. "I've got the money. I just need a legitimate cover. You keep running the day-to-day, I'll handle the business side."
Greg eyed him warily. "You don't look like a car guy, Jesse."
"I know cars," Jesse replied with a grin. "And I know how to make money."
The deal was struck, and within a few weeks, Jesse was the proud owner of a luxury car dealership. He immediately started moving vehicles—expensive ones—and funneled the profits through the business. With the right accounting, it looked like a successful venture. The dealership's income was high, but not impossible to explain, and the business gave him a shield from prying eyes.
The Cartel's Watchful Eye
As Jesse's new operation began to thrive, word of his success started to spread. The cartel wasn't blind to what was happening.
One evening, after a particularly long day at the warehouse, Jesse was finishing up in his office when he heard a knock at the door. He looked up and saw a tall man in a dark suit—Mike Ehrmantraut.
"Mike," Jesse said, leaning back in his chair. "What brings you by?"
Mike didn't smile, didn't say anything, just entered the office and shut the door behind him.
"We need to talk," Mike said, his voice as calm and steady as ever.
Jesse raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"About the deal." Mike's eyes narrowed slightly. "Fring is watching you. We know what you're doing—what you're building."
Jesse's stomach tightened. He hadn't expected Gus to make his move so soon. "What's it to him?"
Mike's gaze was unwavering. "Gus doesn't like competition. And right now, you're looking like a threat."
Jesse leaned forward, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm not stepping on his turf. I've got my own thing going."
Mike didn't flinch. "Doesn't matter. The cartel's already talking. You get too big, and they'll come for you. Gus is the one who'll decide whether you get to keep this business alive."
Jesse's heart was racing. He knew the risks. He'd made enemies—serious ones—but he wasn't about to back down now. "Tell Gus I'm not interested in playing by his rules. I'm doing this my way."
Mike's face remained impassive, but Jesse could tell he was weighing his options. Finally, Mike nodded.
"Fine," he said, his voice low. "But you'll need to be careful. Fring doesn't play games. He wins."
Jesse exhaled through his nose, frustration bubbling up. "Yeah, I know how he operates."
Mike turned to leave, but before he opened the door, he looked back at Jesse. "Just remember, you're not invincible, Jesse. Not yet."
The IRS Looms
Despite Jesse's efforts to cover his tracks, the money was starting to pile up. His income from the car dealership was legitimate enough to pass a cursory investigation, but there was one thing that kept him awake at night—he hadn't done enough to properly account for his wealth before he made the move into the dealership.
He knew it was only a matter of time before the IRS would start asking questions.
Jesse was no fool. He'd been involved in enough shady dealings over the years to know that the government had a way of sniffing out dirty money. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in a web of tax evasion and fraud.
He'd have to cover his tracks even better, find a way to make sure everything looked clean. If he could show that his wealth came from legitimate sources—his business dealings, investments, and maybe a few other hidden assets—he could avoid drawing unwanted attention.
He started hiring a team of accountants, people who wouldn't ask questions, who would help him navigate the paperwork and ensure that the business was running above board. He also set up shell companies to funnel money and wash the proceeds, making everything appear as if it were just part of the dealership's operation.
But no matter how careful he was, there was always the risk of getting sloppy. And Jesse knew that one mistake could send everything crashing down.