The Rise of Mackin Jones

Chapter 36

The aftermath of the battle was a mix of silence and rebuilding. Mackin Jones’s mansion, though untouched physically, carried the weight of the confrontation that had just transpired. His mind, sharper than ever, turned to the future. The war with Drake was over, but the consequences of it were still unfolding.

Inside the mansion, the faint hum of conversation floated through the grand hall. Jones’s men, led by Lambo, were busy overseeing the cleanup. But for Jones, this was more than just clearing away the remnants of Drake’s failed coup. This was the moment when he consolidated everything—his power, his legacy, his control.

He sat in his office, the curtains drawn back to let the morning light flood the room. His desk was clear, save for a single file, one that Lambo had placed in front of him an hour earlier. Jones hadn’t touched it yet. He knew what it contained—details on Bruno, Drake, and the final pieces of the puzzle that had haunted him since his parents’ deaths.

There was no rush. He would open it when the time was right.

The door creaked open, and Lambo stepped in, his usual swagger replaced with a more subdued demeanour. He shut the door quietly behind him, walking over to the desk.

“It’s all taken care of,” Lambo said, his voice low. “The bodies, the cleanup... no one’s going to trace this back to us.”

Mackin Jones gave a brief nod but didn’t look up. His eyes were still fixed on the view outside, the city stretching out before him like a kingdom he had fought tooth and nail to reclaim.

“And Drake?” Jones asked, his voice calm.

Lambo hesitated for a moment. “He’s stable. They patched him up at the hospital. He’ll live.”

Jones turned his chair slightly, finally meeting Lambo’s gaze. “Good. Let him live with the knowledge that he lost. That’s a far worse punishment than death.”

Lambo gave a half-smile, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that spoke of respect, but also concern. “You played this perfectly, boss. But... what’s next? Drake’s out of the picture, but the Mackin family—Bruno’s allies—they’re still out there. They might not challenge you outright, but they’ll be looking for ways to undermine you.”

Jones’s gaze hardened. “Bruno’s allies were always cowards. They backed him because he gave them an illusion of safety. But now, they’ll fall in line. They know what happens to anyone who crosses me.”

Lambo nodded, but he lingered, his eyes drifting to the file on Jones’s desk. “And Bruno?”

Jones’s face remained unreadable as he looked at the file. “Bruno... is no longer a threat.”

There was a moment of silence, and Lambo shifted on his feet, sensing that there was more to the statement. But he knew better than to push. Jones always played his cards close to his chest, and if there was more to the story, he would reveal it when the time was right.

“We’ll make sure the family stays in check,” Lambo said, turning to leave. “And, boss... about Lana.”

Jones’s expression darkened slightly at the mention of her name, though he kept his voice even. “What about her?”

“She’s been trying to reach you again. I figured you should know.”

Jones’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately. Lana had been part of his life once—a part that he had thought was long over. But now, with everything that had happened, the wounds were still fresh. He hadn’t decided what to do about her, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t ready to confront her again. Not yet.

“Keep her at a distance,” Jones said finally, his voice cold. “If she’s looking for forgiveness, she won’t find it here.”

Lambo nodded. “Understood.”

He turned and left the room, leaving Jones alone once more. The mansion was quiet, the weight of the previous night’s battle still hanging in the air. But for Jones, this was the calm after the storm—a moment to reflect, to rebuild.

He finally reached for the file on his desk, his fingers brushing against the smooth leather cover. He had known for some time that Bruno wasn’t just an enemy—he had been the architect of his parents’ downfall, the puppet master behind every tragedy that had befallen the Mackin family. And now, as Jones opened the file, the truth was laid bare before him.

The documents were thorough, detailing every transaction, every betrayal, and every connection Bruno had used to consolidate his power over the years. But the most damning piece of evidence was a letter, written in Bruno’s hand, that detailed his plan to have Jones’s parents killed. The letter was old and faded around the edges, but the words were clear. Bruno had orchestrated everything—their deaths, the financial ruin, even the attempts to drive Jones out of the family for good.

Jones’s grip tightened around the letter, his heart a cold stone in his chest. He had known, deep down, that Bruno was behind it all. But seeing it laid out in front of him, in Bruno’s own words, was something entirely different.

This wasn’t just about power anymore. This was personal.

Jones closed the file, his mind already turning to the next move. Bruno’s influence may have crumbled, but there were still those who had stood by him—those who had benefited from his treachery. And now, Jones would systematically dismantle everything they had built, piece by piece.

But first, he needed to confront the past.

Lana paced in her apartment, her phone clutched tightly in her hand as she stared at the unanswered messages on the screen. She had tried reaching out to Jones multiple times, but every call and every text had gone unanswered. The silence from him was louder than anything she had ever heard.

She stopped by the window, looking out at the bustling city below. Her heart ached, a mix of guilt and regret swirling inside her. She had made a mistake—a terrible mistake—and now she feared it was too late to fix things.

A soft knock at the door startled her, and she turned, wiping the tears from her eyes. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

Cautiously, she approached the door and opened it, her breath catching in her throat as she saw who stood on the other side.

It was Lambo.

“Lambo,” she whispered, stepping back to let him in. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped inside, his presence filling the small space. “I came to talk.”

Lana closed the door behind him, her heart racing. “Is it about Mackin? Is he—”

“He’s fine,” Lambo interrupted, his voice firm. “But you need to stop contacting him.”

Her face fell, and she sank into the nearest chair. “I just want to apologise. I want to make things right.”

Lambo studied her for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “You had your chance, Lana. Mackin doesn’t want to hear apologises. He’s not looking for forgiveness.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, shaking her head. “I know I made mistakes, Lambo. But I love him. I’ve always loved him.”

Lambo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Love isn’t enough anymore, Lana. What you did... changed things. Mackin is a different man now. He’s not the same person you betrayed.”

Lana’s voice cracked. “But I—”

“He’s giving you a chance to walk away,” Lambo said, his tone softening just a little. “Take it, Lana. Before it’s too late.”

She sat there, silent and broken, as Lambo turned to leave. But just before he reached the door, he paused.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he said without turning to face her. “But if you stay, you’ll get caught up in it. Mackin won’t let anyone get in his way—not even you.”

Lana watched as the door closed behind him, her heart sinking deeper into despair. She had lost him. Truly lost him this time. And as she sat there in the dark, the weight of her choices pressed down on her, suffocating any hope she had left.

Back at the mansion, Jones stood at the edge of the balcony, the morning breeze cool against his skin. His phone buzzed again in his pocket, but he ignored it. He knew what the call was about. The family was waiting for him, ready to solidify his place as the new leader of the Mackin empire.

But his mind was elsewhere. He had won the battle, but there was still so much left to do. The old alliances, the lingering threats—he would deal with them all in time. For now, he let himself take in the quiet, the brief peace that had settled over his life.

It wouldn’t last, of course. It never did. But Mackin Jones had learnt how to thrive in the chaos. And this time, he wasn’t just surviving.

He was rising.