The Rise of Mackin Jones

Chapter 78

With Nico dead and the city in chaos, Luis steps into the power vacuum, reluctantly taking on the mantle of leadership to prevent the city from falling into the hands of someone far worse.

As he navigates the dangerous and violent world of the underworld, Luis must confront his demons and the legacy that Nico left behind. The city may be broken, but it is not yet beyond saving. Luis is the last hope for a city on the edge of collapse.

But the fire Nico started still burns, and in the underworld, nothing stays buried for long.

Luis never imagined he’d be back in the heart of the city’s underworld, especially not as its reluctant leader. But here he was, stepping into the power vacuum Nico left behind.

The air felt heavier and more dangerous. The old order had fallen, and the city had become a battlefield of ambition, betrayal, and violence. Everyone wanted a piece of what Nico once held. Luis knew this wasn’t just about taking over—it was about survival. And no one survived long without playing the game smart.

He stood in what used to be Nico’s office in the penthouse, now his by default. The view was the same—towering over the city, a sprawling beast that felt alive with chaos—but everything else had changed. This wasn’t Nico’s empire anymore. It was something far more fragile, something ready to collapse at any moment.

Maria sat on the opposite side of the desk, her arms crossed, watching him with those calculating eyes. She had always been sharp, always watching from the edges, waiting for her moment. Luis knew she was more than just Nico’s sister; she had ambition and a keen sense of what the city needed.

That’s why she had come to him. She knew Luis had the experience and the connections. But more than that, she knew he was the only one with enough credibility to pull the fractured underworld back together.

“Angelo’s consolidating power in the Westside,” Maria said, breaking the silence. “He’s not wasting any time. If we don’t make a move soon, he’s going to control everything.”

Luis didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were fixed on the city skyline, the weight of his decision hanging heavy in the room. He had spent his entire life following men like Nico—strong, ruthless men who knew how to bend the city to their will. But Luis wasn’t like them. He didn’t want power. He didn’t want to rule.

But he also couldn’t let the city burn.

“We need to bring the other crews in line first,” Luis said, his voice quiet but firm. “Angelo’s got momentum, but if we can unite the other factions, we can push back.”

Maria nodded, though her eyes were sharp. “And how do you plan to do that? The smaller crews are all looking out for themselves. They’ve seen what happens when someone tries to take control—they end up like Nico.”

Luis stood, pacing the room as he considered the options. The city had always been ruled by force, by fear. Nico had proven that time and again. But fear wasn’t enough anymore. The smaller crews weren’t just afraid—they were desperate. Desperate men didn’t fall in line out of loyalty. They needed something more.

“We give them a reason to follow,” Luis said finally, turning to face Maria. “We don’t rule them through fear. We give them something they haven’t had in years—stability.”

Maria raised an eyebrow, scepticism flickering across her face. “And you think they’ll buy that? Stability in this city?”

Luis nodded. “They don’t want another war. The smaller crews have been bled dry from fighting each other. If we offer them a way out, a way to keep their territories without constant bloodshed, they’ll take it.”

“And what about Angelo?” Maria asked, her voice sharp. “He’s not going to back down just because we offer peace.”

Luis’s jaw tightened. Angelo was a problem, the last real obstacle to uniting the city under a new order. He had gained power quickly after Nico’s fall, rallying the remaining factions that opposed Luis’s control. If Angelo consolidated his hold on the Westside, it would be an all-out war. And Luis wasn’t sure he had the manpower—or the will—to win another war.

“Angelo’s smart,” Luis said, his eyes narrowing. “But he’s not invincible. If we can bring the other crews into the fold, we’ll have enough strength to force him to the table. He’s not going to fight a war he knows he can’t win.”

Maria was silent for a moment, her mind turning over the possibilities. She stood, walking over to the window and looking out at the city, her hands resting on the edge of the desk. “You’re betting everything on the idea that these crews want peace. But what if they don’t? What if they just see this as an opportunity to grab more power?”

Luis exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Then we make sure they understand the consequences of pushing too far. We can offer peace, but we’ll need to remind them that we still have the strength to enforce it.”

Maria turned back to him, a small, knowing smile on her face. “Sounds like something Nico would’ve said.”

Luis’s face darkened. He didn’t want to be like Nico, but in this city, sometimes the only way to survive was to use the same brutal tactics that had built the empire in the first place.

The next few days were spent consolidating whatever remnants of power Luis could muster. He sent word to the smaller crews—the Southside, Dockyard, and Eastside factions—inviting their leaders to a meeting, a summit of sorts, where they could discuss the future of the city’s underworld. Luis knew it was a risk. Bringing so many enemies together in one room could easily turn into a bloodbath. But it was a risk he had to take.

Maria helped broker the meetings, using her network of contacts to reach out to those who might be willing to listen. She had a way of speaking that commanded attention, her presence a strange mix of Nico’s authority and something more pragmatic. Luis appreciated her help, even if he knew she had her reasons for wanting to stabilise the city.

On the night of the meeting, Luis sat in a nondescript warehouse near the docks, waiting for the other leaders to arrive. The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with tension. A few of Nico’s old soldiers stood guard outside, but inside, Luis was alone with his thoughts.

The first to arrive was Marco, leader of the Southside crew. He was a grizzled veteran of the streets, a man who had survived through cunning and brutality. His crew had always been smaller, and more scattered, but they were fiercely loyal to Marco. He entered the room with a wary glance, nodding curtly at Luis before taking a seat at the table.

Next came Leo, head of the Dockyard crew. Leo had been one of Nico’s lieutenants before breaking away after Nico’s death. He had managed to hold onto the Dockyard through sheer force of will, though his grip on power was tenuous. Leo was younger than the others, but no less dangerous. He sat across from Marco, eyeing him with open distrust.

Finally, Vito entered, representing the Eastside faction. Vito had been one of Angelo’s allies, but in recent weeks, he had distanced himself, seeing the writing on the wall. He was a cautious man, always hedging his bets, and now, he was here to see what Luis had to offer.

Luis stood at the head of the table, looking out at the three men who held the future of the city in their hands. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken rivalries, the mistrust that had kept them all divided for so long. But now, they were united by one thing: survival.

“I’m not here to waste your time,” Luis began, his voice steady and calm. “We’ve all seen what’s been happening in this city. The constant fighting, the power struggles—it’s tearing us apart. And with Nico gone, there’s no one holding it together.”

Marco leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “So what? Do you think you can be the one to hold it together? I’ve heard that before.”

Luis didn’t flinch. “I’m not Nico. I’m not here to rule with an iron fist. What I’m offering is a way out of this mess—a way for all of us to keep our territories, our crews, without having to kill each other for scraps.”

Leo snorted. “And what makes you think we’d listen to you? You barely have any men left. Angelo’s sitting in the Westside with more muscle than all of us combined.”

Luis met Leo’s gaze, his voice calm but firm. “Angelo’s strong, but he’s not invincible. If we unite, we can force him to the table. But if we keep fighting each other, he’s going to pick us off one by one.”

Vito nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “You’re talking about a truce. A real one.”

Luis nodded. “Exactly. We stop the fighting. We divide the city into territories. Each crew keeps what they have, and no one crosses the lines. We all get to keep our power, our businesses, and we stop bleeding men in the streets.”

Marco frowned, his scepticism clear. “And what if Angelo doesn’t go for it? What if he decides he wants the whole city for himself?”

Luis exhaled slowly. “Then we deal with him. Together.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. The men at the table weren’t fools. They knew what was at stake. If they didn’t agree, the city would continue to tear itself apart, and none of them would survive.

Finally, Marco nodded, though his expression remained guarded. “Alright. I’m in. But if Angelo tries to make a move, we hit him hard. No hesitation.”

Leo glanced around the table before giving a brief nod. “Same here. I’m tired of losing men.”

Vito was the last to agree, his face thoughtful. “It’s a dangerous play. But if it works, we might just survive.