The Rise of Mackin Jones

Chapter 73

With Dario dead and the Eastside crew crushed, Nico’s control over the city is slipping faster than ever. The smaller crews are regrouping, and the tension in the underworld is reaching a breaking point.

As new alliances form and the cracks in Nico’s empire widen, he must confront the reality that his reign is on the verge of collapse. The fire he has tried to contain for so long is spreading, and soon, there will be no way to stop it.

The final battle for the city is coming, and Nico is running out of time.

The city had become a battlefield of whispers, alliances, and betrayals. It was no longer just a question of who controlled which territory, but who could survive the chaos.

The streets were quiet in the way that only came before a storm—a kind of tension that vibrated beneath the surface, ready to explode at any moment. And in the middle of it all was Nico, standing on the edge of an empire he had built with blood and fire.

But now that empire was burning.

Nico sat in the penthouse, his body aching from the aftermath of the fight with Dario’s crew. His victories, once decisive and brutal, had begun to feel hollow, more like survival than triumph. He had crushed Dario, but the trap had cost him too much.

His men were dead, his forces stretched thin, and the smaller crews that had once feared him were now organising, sensing weakness. The cracks in his empire were no longer hidden. They were wide open, and the city could smell blood.

Luis entered, looking more worn than ever. His eyes told the story of too many battles fought, and too many bodies buried. He had always been by Nico’s side, loyal to a fault, but even Luis could feel the end coming.

"We've lost more ground," Luis said quietly, standing across from Nico. "The Eastside is still fractured, but the crews are starting to fill the void Dario left. They’re moving fast, testing the limits of our control."

Nico didn’t look up. He didn’t need to. The weight of everything was already bearing down on him. He had always known this day would come—the moment when his enemies would sense weakness when the empire he had fought so hard to build would begin to crumble. But knowing it didn’t make it any easier.

Luis continued, his voice filled with a tension that hadn’t been there before. “It’s not just the Eastside. We’re hearing more from the Dockyard crew. They’ve regrouped faster than we expected, and they’re making moves on the Westside now.”

Nico finally turned to face him, his eyes cold but tired. “How much time do we have?”

Luis hesitated, glancing down at the floor before meeting Nico’s gaze again. “Not much. A week, maybe less, before they hit us head-on.”

Nico clenched his jaw. The city was turning on him, piece by piece, crew by crew. He had ruled through fear, through violence, but now, even that wasn’t enough. The smaller crews, once cowed by his ruthlessness, were sensing opportunity. They were starting to believe that Nico could be beaten.

“We need to move first,” Nico said, standing abruptly. “We take the fight to them before they get a chance to organise. If we strike hard, they’ll scatter.”

Luis shook his head. “Nico, we don’t have the numbers for that. We’re stretched too thin. The men are tired, and they’re starting to talk. If we push too hard now, we risk losing everything.”

Nico’s eyes narrowed. “What are they saying?”

Luis hesitated again, weighing his words carefully. “They’re scared. They’ve seen how many men we’ve lost. They know we’re on the edge.”

Nico paced the room, his mind racing. He had heard this before and seen the signs of dissent among his men. Fear had always been his weapon, but now that same fear was turning against him. His lieutenants were loyal, but loyalty in the underworld was as fragile as glass.

“If they’re scared,” Nico muttered, “then we remind them why they follow me.”

Luis exhaled slowly. “And how do we do that?”

Nico stopped pacing, his eyes hard and calculating. “We make an example. Public. Loud. We show them what happens to anyone who thinks they can take this city from me.”

The streets of the Eastside had become a battleground of their own, a place where power shifted hands in back alleys and darkened bars. Since Dario’s fall, the smaller crews had moved quickly to fill the vacuum, each one jockeying for control, each one testing the limits of Nico’s reach.

It was a delicate balance, and everyone knew that a single misstep could ignite a war that would tear the underworld apart.

In a dingy bar near the waterfront, three of the smaller crew leaders sat around a scarred wooden table, their faces tense as they discussed their next move. The bar was nearly empty, save for a few loyal enforcers standing guard near the entrance. It was a quiet meeting, but the air was thick with danger.

“We have to move fast,” one of the men, a lean operator named Tony, said quietly. “Nico’s losing control. The Eastside’s open, and if we don’t take it now, someone else will.”

Another man, a heavyset enforcer named Paolo, shook his head. “Nico’s still strong. You saw what he did to Dario. He’s not going to roll over and let us take his turf.”

Tony leaned forward, his voice tense. “Nico’s stretched thin. He’s been fighting too many battles, losing too many men. This is our chance.”

The third man at the table, an older and more cautious crew leader named Angelo, listened quietly before speaking. “We can’t just walk into this blind. Nico’s dangerous, but he’s also predictable. He’ll come for us the moment he gets wind of what we’re planning.”

Tony nodded, his eyes flashing with determination. “That’s why we move first. Hit him where it hurts. We make a play for the Westside and take over his supply lines. Without those, he’s done.”

Paolo hesitated, glancing around the bar as if expecting Nico’s men to burst in at any moment. “And if we fail?”

Angelo’s voice was cold as he answered. “Then we die.”

Nico was already planning his next move.

He had called a meeting of his remaining lieutenants in a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, far from the prying eyes of the smaller crews.

It was a calculated risk, bringing them together like this, but Nico knew he had to act now before the doubts that Luis had warned him about spread any further. If his lieutenants lost faith in him, everything would fall apart.

The warehouse was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of oil and gasoline. Nico stood at the head of a long metal table, his eyes scanning the faces of the men he had trusted with his empire. Luis was there, standing off to the side, watching quietly as the others gathered.

The room was silent as Nico began to speak.

“We’ve all heard the rumours,” Nico said, his voice calm but edged with steel. “The smaller crews are moving in, thinking they can take what’s mine. They’re wrong.”

The lieutenants shifted uncomfortably, but none of them spoke. They knew better than to question Nico directly, but the tension in the room was palpable.

Nico continued, his voice growing colder. “They think we’re weak. They think we’ve lost control. And I’m not going to let that stand.”

He paused, letting the silence hang in the air for a moment before speaking again. “We’re going to remind them who runs this city. But first, we need to make an example. One of our own.”

The tension in the room thickened. The lieutenants exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared to speak.

Nico’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the table. “Ricky,” he said, his voice sharp.

Ricky, one of Nico’s more senior lieutenants, stiffened. “Yeah, boss?”

Nico stepped towards him, his gaze cold and unrelenting. “I’ve heard things, Ricky. Things I don’t like.”

Ricky’s face went pale. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’ve been loyal to you since the beginning.”

Nico didn’t respond immediately. He let the silence hang for a moment, the weight of his words pressing down on the room. “Loyalty isn’t just words. It’s actions. And I need to know that I can trust you.”

Ricky swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly. “You can trust me, Nico. I swear.”

Nico’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then prove it.”

Before Ricky could respond, Nico’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. The other lieutenants froze, too afraid to move, too afraid to intervene. Nico’s face was inches from Ricky’s, his voice low and deadly.

“If you even think about betraying me,” Nico growled, “I’ll bury you with the rest of them.”

Ricky’s eyes widened in terror, but he nodded quickly. “I’m with you, boss. I swear it.”

Nico released him, stepping back and straightening his jacket. The message had been sent, loud and clear. He turned to the rest of the room, his voice calm but filled with cold authority.

“This city belongs to me,” Nico said. “And anyone who thinks otherwise will learn the hard way.”

The attack came sooner than Nico had expected.

Later that night, just as Nico’s men were returning to their strongholds, the first wave hit. The Eastside crews, led by Tony, Paolo, and Angelo, launched a surprise assault on one of Nico’s key supply lines in the Westside.

It was a coordinated strike, designed to cripple Nico’s operations and send a message to the rest of the city: Nico wasn’t invincible.

The sound of gunfire echoed through the darkened streets as Nico’s men fought back, but they were outnumbered, caught off guard by the speed and precision of the attack. The Eastside crews had come prepared, armed with automatic weapons and explosives, and within hours, they had taken control of the supply line.

Luis was the first to bring the news to Nico.

“They hit us hard,” Luis said, his voice filled with urgency as he burst into the penthouse. “We’ve lost the Westside supply line. Tony and Paolo’s men are already fortifying their position.”

Nico’s eyes darkened with rage, but he kept his voice calm. “How many men did we lose?”

“Too many,” Luis said, his face grim. “They were ready for us.”

Nico clenched his fists, the fury building inside him like a storm. He had known the smaller crews were planning something, but he hadn’t expected them to strike this fast, this hard. They were organised, more than he had anticipated, and now they had dealt him a serious blow.

“We take it back,” Nico said, his voice cold and final. “Tonight.”

Luis hesitated. “Nico, we’re running out of men. If we hit them again now, we risk losing even more.”

Nico’s gaze was sharp as a blade. “We can’t show weakness. If we let them hold the Westside, it’s over. We hit them, and we hit them hard.”

Luis nodded though his face remained tense. “Alright. But we need to be smart about this. They’re expecting us to come for them.”

Nico’s mind raced, already forming a plan. He couldn’t afford to wait. The city was slipping out of his grasp, and the longer he hesitated, the more ground he would lose. The smaller crews had struck first, but Nico would be the one to finish this.

The assault on the Westside came just before dawn.

Nico’s men moved through the narrow streets and alleys, using the cover of darkness to close in on Tony and Paolo’s positions. It was a full-scale operation, designed to retake the supply line and crush the Eastside crews once and for all. Nico had brought every available soldier he had left, knowing that this was his last chance to show the city that he was still in control.

The fighting was brutal. Gunfire echoed through the early morning air, flashes of muzzle fire lighting up the dark streets. Nico’s men fought with everything they had, pushing forward despite the overwhelming odds. But the Eastside crews were dug in, using the buildings and the streets themselves to their advantage.

Nico moved through the chaos, his gun steady in his hand, his eyes cold and focused. He had been in battles like this before—he had built his empire on moments like this—but something felt different now. The city had always been a beast, wild and unpredictable, but now it felt like it was turning against him.

As the sun began to rise over the city, the battle for the Westside reached its bloody climax. Nico’s men had managed to push Tony’s forces back, regaining control of the supply line, but the cost had been steep. Bodies littered the streets, blood staining the concrete, and the air was thick with the scent of death.

Luis found Nico in the aftermath, his face streaked with blood and sweat.

“We got it back,” Luis said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “But it’s not over. Tony and Paolo got away. They’ll regroup, and when they do, they’ll come for us again.”

Nico nodded, though his expression was unreadable. He had won the battle, but the war was far from over. The city was burning, and no matter how many enemies he killed, no matter how many crews he crushed, the fire was spreading.

“We need to finish this,” Nico said quietly, his voice filled with cold determination. “We find them, and we end it.”

Back at the penthouse, the weight of the fight hung heavy in the air. Nico stood by the window, staring out at the city that had once been his. It was a city built on violence, on betrayal, on the blood of the men who had tried to claim it before him. But now, it felt like that same violence was consuming him, piece by piece.

Luis sat across the room, nursing a drink. His face was lined with exhaustion, his body worn down by the endless cycle of war. He had followed Nico through every battle and every brutal decision, but even he could feel the end coming.

“How much longer can we keep this up, Nico?” Luis asked quietly, his voice filled with something close to desperation. “We’re running out of men, out of resources. The city’s turning against us.”

Nico didn’t answer right away. His mind was racing, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a vice. He had fought so hard and sacrificed so much, and yet, it still wasn’t enough. The city was slipping away from him, and for the first time, Nico wasn’t sure if he could hold on.

“We keep fighting,” Nico said finally, though his voice sounded hollow. “We finish what we started.”

Luis sighed, leaning back in his chair. “And if there’s nothing left to finish?”

Nico’s gaze didn’t waver. He had always been the one in control, the one who made the hard decisions. But now, standing at the edge of his empire, he wasn’t sure if he had any control left.

“We’ll find out.”