The Rise of Mackin Jones

Chapter 67

With Mackin’s old lieutenants dead and the rebellion crushed, Nico’s control over the city remains tenuous. The fires of rebellion may have been extinguished, but the cracks in Nico’s empire are still growing, and new threats are emerging from the shadows.

As the underworld descends into chaos, Nico must decide how far he’s willing to go to hold onto his throne. The city is on the brink of collapse, and the war for control is far from over.

The longest night is yet to come.

The city was cloaked in a thick, oppressive silence, as if it too was bracing for the next inevitable wave of bloodshed. The rebellion had been crushed—Mackin’s old lieutenants lay dead, and their bids for power ended as swiftly as they had begun—but the city was far from calm.

In the aftermath of Enzo’s death, Nico could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unseen forces conspiring in the shadows. There were no cheers, no signs of relief in the streets, only the unspoken understanding that the battle for control was far from finished.

Nico stood in front of the window of his penthouse, staring out at the dark cityscape. The glow of streetlights seemed dimmer now, as though the city itself was fading, losing its edge. Or maybe it was him.

Maybe, after everything, the fight was starting to wear on him more than he realised. The more he tried to tighten his grip, the more the city seemed to slip away from him, like water through his fingers.

Luis stepped into the room, his presence heavier than usual. He had been there through it all—every fight, every kill, every grim step that had brought them here—and Nico could see the toll it was taking on him, too. They had crossed so many lines that going back wasn’t an option anymore.

“Got some news,” Luis said quietly, his face drawn with fatigue. “It’s not good.”

Nico turned slightly, not breaking his gaze from the window. “Go on.”

Luis exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts. “The smaller crews are starting to fracture. Some of them are moving into Mackin’s old territories, trying to grab whatever’s left. Others are staying quiet, waiting to see how things play out.

But the bigger problem is the lieutenants. Rocco’s death, Franco, Enzo—it’s shaken them, Nico. We’re hearing whispers that some of them are starting to reconsider where their loyalties lie.”

Nico’s jaw tightened. “Names?”

Luis nodded. “We’ve got suspicions on a few—Sal, Ricky, and maybe even Vito. They’ve all been quiet lately—too quiet. I think they’re waiting to see if you’ll hold the city or if it’s time to cut their losses.”

Nico finally turned to face Luis, his eyes cold. “You think they’ll turn?”

Luis hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “It’s possible. They’ve seen what happens to people who cross you, but fear can only keep them in line for so long. If they think you’re going down, they’ll want to be on the winning side.”

Nico let the silence hang between them for a moment, the weight of Luis’s words settling like lead. He had built his empire on the bodies of men who had once been loyal to Mackin and Santoro, men who had fallen because they underestimated him.

But now, that same loyalty was unravelling before his eyes, eroded by fear and the constant shifting tides of power.

“We can’t let them think they have an option,” Nico said finally, his voice hard. “I’ve already shown this city what happens to traitors. If they’re questioning their loyalties, it means we need to remind them where their place is.”

Luis nodded, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “What do you want to do?”

Nico’s mind was already racing, forming a plan. The rebellion may have been snuffed out, but the fires of doubt were still smouldering in the hearts of his lieutenants. If he didn’t act now, those doubts would spread, and the city would descend into chaos again. He couldn’t afford to lose control. Not now. Not ever.

“We call them in,” Nico said. “Sal, Ricky, Vito. All of them. We make them understand that they don’t have a choice.”

Luis raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to bring them all together?”

Nico’s lip curled into a cold smile. “I want them to see it for themselves. I want them to know that there’s no turning back.”

The warehouse was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and cold steel. Nico had chosen the location carefully—a neutral place far from the territories still in flux, somewhere his lieutenants would know was serious business.

Sal, Ricky, Vito, and a handful of others were already gathered, their faces tense, their eyes betraying the fear they tried to hide. They all knew why they were there. They just didn’t know how it would end.

Nico entered the room with Luis at his side, his footsteps echoing against the concrete floor. The air was heavy with anticipation, every man in the room watching him, waiting for the moment when the silence would break. Nico could feel their fear and taste it like copper in the back of his throat. Good. Fear was still his greatest weapon.

“Thank you all for coming,” Nico began, his voice calm but laced with an edge of menace. He walked slowly around the room, his eyes scanning the faces of each of his lieutenants. “I wanted to speak with you directly. I wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings about where we stand.”

Sal shifted uncomfortably, his fingers twitching as he tried to keep his composure. “What’s this about, Nico? We’ve all been doing our part. We’re loyal.”

Nico stopped in front of him, his gaze piercing. “Are you?”

Sal swallowed hard, the room falling into an uneasy silence. Nico let the question hang for a moment before continuing. “I’ve heard some interesting things lately. Rumours. Whispers that some of you might be reconsidering your loyalties. That you’re waiting for the right moment to switch sides, to cut your losses.”

Vito, standing near the back of the room, clenched his fists. “We’ve been with you since the beginning, Nico. We’re not planning on turning.”

Nico’s eyes flicked to Vito, but his expression didn’t soften. “You say that now. But we all know how quickly things can change in this city. We’ve seen it before, haven’t we? Men who swear loyalty, who say they’ll stand with you until the end—until the end gets a little too close for comfort.”

Sal’s voice cracked as he tried to find his footing. “Look, Nico, we’ve all been with you. But it’s been…tense lately. People are scared. The city’s shifting, and everyone’s just trying to survive.”

Nico took a slow, deliberate step towards Sal, his face mere inches from his. “You think I don’t know fear? You think I haven’t been fighting to survive since the moment I set foot in this city? But there’s a difference between fear and betrayal, Sal.”

Sal froze, the colour draining from his face as Nico’s words hit him like a hammer. The rest of the room was deathly silent, every man too afraid to speak, too afraid to breathe.

“You’ve all been loyal,” Nico said, his voice cold as ice. “But let me make one thing clear: loyalty isn’t optional. You either stand with me or you’re against me. And I don’t leave room for traitors.”

The silence stretched on, the tension in the air almost unbearable. Every man in the room knew what Nico was capable of—what he had already done to those who had crossed him. The message was clear: fall in line or fall out.

Vito spoke up, his voice low but steady. “We’re with you, Nico. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Nico turned to face him, his gaze unblinking. “Good. Then prove it.”

Vito’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of confusion passing across his face. “What do you mean?”

Nico’s lips curled into a dangerous smile. “I want you to show me. Right here, right now.”

Vito blinked, clearly unsure of what Nico was asking. “Show you what?”

Without breaking eye contact, Nico nodded towards one of the other men standing in the corner of the room. “Take him out.”

The room shifted uneasily, and the man Nico had pointed to—one of Vito’s closest allies—stared in shock. “What the hell is this?”

Nico’s expression didn’t waver. “This is loyalty, Vito. You say you’re with me? Then prove it. Take him out. Show me that there’s no doubt where you stand.”

Vito hesitated, his eyes darting between Nico and his friend. He knew what Nico was asking—he was being tested, pushed to the edge. But this was more than just loyalty. This was a public execution of trust.

The room was thick with tension, the weight of the decision pressing down on everyone like a vice. Vito’s hand slowly moved towards his gun, his face a mask of indecision. The man he was supposed to kill stared back at him in horror, knowing that pleading would be useless.

“I—” Vito started, his voice shaky.

Nico stepped forward, his tone deadly calm. “Do it. Or I’ll do both of you.”

Vito’s hand closed around his gun, his breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. For a long moment, he stood frozen, the tension in the room reaching a fever pitch.

And then, in a single, brutal motion, he drew his weapon and fired. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the warehouse, and the man crumpled to the floor, dead before he hit the ground.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Vito stood there, staring at the body, his gun still trembling in his hand. He had passed Nico’s test, but the look on his face said it all—this wasn’t the kind of loyalty anyone survived for long.

Nico nodded slowly, satisfied. “Good. Now you know where you stand.”

Vito didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His hands were still shaking, his mind racing with the weight of what he had just done. The rest of the room was silent, every man too terrified to speak, too terrified to move.

Nico looked around the room, his gaze hard and unyielding. “This is how it works from now on. You’re either with me or you’re dead. There’s no in-between. No hesitation. Do I make myself clear?”

A chorus of nods followed, each one more desperate than the last.

Nico turned on his heel, heading for the door with Luis close behind. The message had been sent, loud and clear. But even as Nico left the warehouse, he knew that something had shifted. The men were loyal, but only because they had no choice. Fear had kept them in line for now, but it was a fragile loyalty—one that could break at any moment.

Back at the penthouse, Luis stood in front of the window, staring out at the dark city below. The events of the night had left him unsettled, and for the first time, he wondered how much further Nico was willing to go to hold onto his power.

“You think that was the right call?” Luis asked quietly, his voice laced with concern.

Nico didn’t answer right away. He sat down at his desk, his eyes distant, as though weighing the question in his mind. “It had to be done.”

Luis sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Maybe. But you’re walking a fine line, Nico. The more you rule through fear, the more you risk losing everything.”

Nico’s gaze flicked towards him, sharp and cold. “What’s the alternative? Do you think I can rule this city with a smile and a handshake? This place doesn’t work that way, Luis. It never has.”

Luis didn’t respond immediately, but the weariness in his eyes spoke volumes. “I just don’t want you to lose yourself in this.”

Nico’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He knew what Luis meant—he could feel it, too. The lines between survival and power were blurring, and every day, it became harder to tell where one ended and the other began.

“I’m not losing anything,” Nico said finally, though the words felt hollow. “This is what we fought for.”

Luis nodded, but his expression remained troubled. “I hope you’re right.”