Max Arabia rested comfortably in a high-backed, leather chair. The seat sat beside his desk and faced the freshly cleaned office window. The panoramic scenery of Indianapolis was magnificent, especially when viewed from the top-floor penthouse of his company office.

The city’s sweeping landscape gave him not only a sense of power, but also a unique perspective of his life. Like his company tower, he stood out among others. He was a man of accomplishment and vision. He enjoyed these opportunities to reflect on those achievements.

At 62 years old, Max had worked hard to build his empire. He’d taken the small, family-owned business that he’d inherited from his dad at only 19 and turned it into one of the most successful corporations in America. His company’s business was tobacco.

His company manufactured three different brands of cigarettes and also a premium brand of cigar. All the products were manufactured in Mobile, Alabama where his son ran things. Matters of finance were handled here at his Indianapolis office building, such as payroll, accounting, advertising and others.

At 62 years old, Max was in fair health, with the small exception of a protruding belly. His hair was thick and full, but almost entirely gray. He needed glasses only for reading but rarely used them. His eyes, once a deep blue, held only a tint of color.

Unlike the financial disasters that had devastated other tobacco companies, Max Arabia cunningly steered his company around those nasty little bumps in the road. When the right wallets are filled in the political arena, a person can buy themselves out of a lot of trouble. In addition to the corrupt politicians in his back pocket, there were also judges to pay off and out-of-court settlements made behind closed doors. Even a biased reporter for the city paper could be bought off if enough cash flipped across his or her nose.

All those payouts weren’t cheap – not by a long shot. But when one stopped to consider the billions that other tobacco companies had paid out in the court settlements, then the millions that Max spent wasn’t so bad. It was a matter of perspective.

Of course the tobacco business was much more difficult these days than when he first started. Back then, every tobacco company put addictive additives in their cigarettes. What better way to ensure a lifetime customer? But today, with the FDA and everyone else looking over your shoulder, things were no longer that simple.

Thankfully, many years ago, the chemists in his research department had secretly come up with an incredible formula. They devised a narcotic that was completely untraceable in cigarettes. Though undetectable, the combined chemical reaction of the drug with tobacco made it highly addictive.

There were many who’d frown on his practices if they knew of them. But those same people had no idea how tough the tobacco market could be. In addition to the estimated 1,000 people a day who died from the effects of smoking, there were at least 2,000 others who quit everyday. This meant that somewhere, somehow, 3,000 new smokers had to be created daily, just to keep from losing ground.

Creating new smokers was no longer an easy task. With all the new anti-smoking campaigns advertising on television, tobacco had lost much of its appeal. That’s why the formula was so important to the successful future of his company.

Teenagers were the single best source of new smokers. Many Teens thought it made them look cool or grown up. But it was difficult to get teens hooked on smoking while at the same time publicly pretending that his company was against it.

Max sighed. Sometimes he wondered why he didn’t just give up and retire. He certainly had enough money to do so. The thought of money reminded him of something important.