The Rise of Mackin Jones

Chapter 79

With the smaller crews united under Luis’s leadership, the stage is set for the final confrontation with Angelo. The city teeters on the edge of chaos, and Luis must navigate the dangerous world of the underworld’s shifting alliances if he hopes to secure a fragile peace. But Angelo is not a man who will go quietly, and the battle for the city’s future is about to reach its bloody climax.

The war for control of the city isn’t over yet, and Luis is running out of time to hold everything together.

Luis stood at the edge of the Westside, staring out at the sprawling district that was once Nico’s stronghold. The city had always felt like a beast—wild, untamable—but now it was like a creature backed into a corner, ready to lash out. The fragile peace he’d managed to broker with the smaller crews felt like it could shatter at any moment. And Angelo, lurking in the heart of the Westside, was the biggest threat of all.

Angelo had taken advantage of the chaos following Nico’s death, rallying disillusioned factions, gathering resources, and positioning himself as the city’s next ruler. He was no stranger to the game of power, and Luis knew that Angelo wasn’t going to back down without a fight. If Luis couldn’t stop him now, everything he’d built—all the alliances, the promises of peace—would crumble.

Maria stood beside him, her arms crossed as she gazed over the Westside. The tension in her face was subtle but unmistakable. She had her reasons for wanting Angelo out of the picture. Nico’s death had left a hole in the underworld, and Angelo’s growing power threatened to fill it in a way that would destabilise the entire city.

“They’re not going to come quietly,” Maria said, her voice low. “Angelo’s too smart for that. He knows we’re coming.”

Luis nodded. He had anticipated that. Angelo had fortified the Westside, turning it into a nearly impenetrable fortress. Taking him down would require more than just brute force. It would require strategy and coordination—something Luis had spent days planning with the leaders of the smaller crews.

“We’ll be ready,” Luis replied, though his voice carried the weight of uncertainty. He wasn’t Nico. He wasn’t the kind of leader who commanded loyalty through fear or violence. But he had to be something else—something better. He had to give the city a reason to believe in a future that didn’t involve constant bloodshed.

Maria turned to him, her expression softening for a moment. “You’ve already done more than Nico ever did. You’re trying to keep the city together. That’s something.”

Luis glanced at her, appreciating the sentiment, but he knew better. This wasn’t about doing more or less than Nico. It was about survival—survival for the city, for the men who had followed him, and for the future that hung by a thread.

“Surviving isn’t enough,” Luis muttered. “We need to end this.”

The night of the final push came quickly, as if the city itself were rushing towards the inevitable confrontation.

Luis’s forces—an uneasy alliance of the smaller crews he had united—gathered on the outskirts of the Westside. The air was thick with tension—the kind of nervous energy that came before a storm. Men checked their weapons, shared quiet words, and cast wary glances towards the fortified district ahead.

Luis moved through the ranks, his presence offering what little reassurance he could. He wasn’t Nico. He wasn’t some larger-than-life figure who could command respect through sheer force of will. But he was their leader now, and that meant he had to face this head-on.

Maria approached him, her expression serious. “They’re ready, but it’s not going to be easy. Angelo’s got more men than we thought. He’s pulled in support from some of the smaller factions that didn’t join us.”

Luis nodded, absorbing the information. He had expected this. Angelo was no fool—he’d been preparing for this confrontation ever since Nico’s death. Still, Luis couldn’t afford to lose focus. This wasn’t just about Angelo. It was about proving to the city that there was another way, a path that didn’t end in a bloodbath every time someone reached for power.

“We move at dawn,” Luis said, his voice steady. “Once we break through his outer defences, we push hard. Don’t give him time to regroup.”

Maria nodded, though her face was lined with worry. “And if we don’t break through?”

Luis met her gaze, his eyes dark and unwavering. “We will.”

The assault began just before dawn, as the first light crept over the horizon, casting long shadows over the Westside. Luis’s forces moved quickly and quietly, slipping into position around Angelo’s stronghold. The plan was simple: surround Angelo’s men, cut off their escape routes, and force them into a corner. But simple plans rarely survived the chaos of battle.

The first shots rang out, sharp and sudden, shattering the early morning calm. Luis’s men surged forward, guns blazing, as they engaged Angelo’s forces in the narrow streets and alleyways of the Westside. The sounds of gunfire, shouting, and the occasional explosion echoed through the district, turning it into a war zone.

Luis led the charge, his gun steady in his hand as he moved through the chaos. His men fought with a determination born out of necessity—this wasn’t just about territory anymore. It was about survival. If they didn’t take Angelo down, the fragile peace they had brokenred would disintegrate, and the city would descend into anarchy.

Maria was at his side, moving with the same cold precision that Nico had once possessed. She wasn’t just there to observe—she was a fighter, and Luis knew he could count on her to hold her own amid the chaos.

As the battle raged on, Luis’s forces began to push deeper into the heart of Angelo’s territory, but the resistance was fierce. Angelo’s men were dug in, using every advantage the Westside offered—rooftops, narrow alleys, and fortified buildings. It was a brutal, grinding fight, and Luis knew that every minute that passed was another opportunity for Angelo to regroup.

“We’re running into more resistance than we expected,” one of Luis’s lieutenants shouted over the roar of gunfire. “They’ve fortified the main block. We can’t get through!”

Luis cursed under his breath, his mind racing. Angelo was better prepared than they’d thought, and now the fight was turning into a war of attrition—one Luis couldn’t afford.

“We need to outflank them,” Luis said, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Send a team around the back, through the side streets. If we can cut them off from behind, we’ll have a chance.”

The lieutenant nodded and relayed the orders, and soon, a group of Luis’s men broke off from the main assault, slipping through the side streets in an attempt to catch Angelo’s forces off guard.

Luis turned to Maria, his eyes filled with determination. “I’m going in.”

Maria’s eyes widened. “Luis, that’s suicide. You can’t just charge in there. They’ll cut you down before you get close.”

Luis shook his head. “We don’t have time for a siege. I need to get to Angelo. If I can get to him, this ends.”

Maria stared at him for a long moment, her face a mix of frustration and understanding. She knew there was no stopping him—Luis had made up his mind. And in this city, sometimes the only way to end the violence was to walk straight into the fire.

“Alright,” she said quietly. “But you’re not going alone.”

Luis and Maria moved through the chaos of the battlefield, weaving through the narrow streets as gunfire erupted all around them. Luis’s heart pounded in his chest, but his mind was focused, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of Angelo. This was it—the final push. The moment that would decide the future of the city.

As they neared the centre of Angelo’s stronghold, the resistance intensified. Angelo’s men were everywhere, firing from windows, rooftops, and alleyways. Luis and Maria ducked behind a crumbling wall, their guns at the ready as bullets whizzed past them.

“We need to move!” Maria shouted, her voice barely audible over the sound of gunfire.

Luis nodded, and together they pushed forward, cutting through the enemy lines with ruthless efficiency. The fighting was brutal, close-quarters, and every inch they gained felt like a victory hard-won. But Luis couldn’t stop now. He was too close.

Finally, after what felt like hours of relentless fighting, they reached the entrance to Angelo’s main hideout—a fortified building in the heart of the Westside. The door was guarded by two of Angelo’s men, but they didn’t stand a chance. Luis took them down with a few precise shots, and the door swung open with a crash.

Inside, the air was thick with tension. Angelo was waiting.

He stood at the far end of the room, flanked by two of his most loyal soldiers. His face was set in a cold sneer, but there was something else there too—something close to fear.

“So, you finally made it,” Angelo said, his voice dripping with disdain. “I was wondering how long it would take you to crawl out from under Nico’s shadow.”

Luis raised his gun, his eyes locked on Angelo. “It ends here, Angelo. This city doesn’t need another warlord.”

Angelo laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. “You think you can save this city? Do you think anyone cares about peace? The only thing people understand in this city is power. Nico knew that. But you... you’re weak. And they’ll eat you alive.”

Luis didn’t flinch. He knew Angelo was trying to provoke him, to make him doubt his purpose. But Luis had come too far for that. He wasn’t here to rule through fear or violence. He was here to put an end to the cycle that had torn the city apart for so long.

“I’m not Nico,” Luis said coldly. “And I’m not you.”

Before Angelo could respond, Luis fired.

The shot was quick and precise. Angelo staggered backwards, a look of shock crossing his face as he crumpled to the ground. His men didn’t even have time to react before Maria took them out with swift, ruthless efficiency.

The room fell silent.

Luis stood over Angelo’s lifeless body, his heart pounding in his chest. It was over. The man who had been poised to tear the city apart was gone. But as Luis stood there, the weight of everything pressed down on him. The violence wasn’t over. It never really was.

Maria approached him slowly, her eyes scanning the room. “It’s done.”

Luis nodded, though the relief he had expected didn’t come. This wasn’t a victory. It was just another step in a war that would never truly end.

The news of Angelo’s death spread quickly through the city, and with it, a tentative peace began to settle over the fractured underworld. Luis had done what many thought was impossible—he had united the smaller crews, taken down Angelo, and brought an end to the bloodshed. But the city, as always, was restless.

In the days that followed, Luis worked tirelessly to hold the fragile peace together. The smaller crews, now wary of another all-out war, began to fall in line. Territories were divided, alliances were formed, and for the first time in years, the city’s underworld seemed to find a semblance of stability.

But Luis knew better than to believe it would last.

He sat in the penthouse one evening, staring out over the city. The skyline was familiar, the lights twinkling in the distance, but the city felt different now. Quieter. The chaos had subsided, but the fire was still there, burning just beneath the surface. It always would be.

Maria entered the room, her expression soft but serious. “You did it, Luis. You brought them together. The city’s yours now.”

Luis shook his head, his voice quiet. “The city’s never been mine, Maria. It belongs to itself.”

She stood beside him, looking out at the same view, the weight of their shared experiences hanging between them. “So what now?”

Luis exhaled slowly, his eyes scanning the streets below. “We keep the peace. For as long as we can.”

Maria nodded, though she knew as well as Luis did that peace in this city was a fragile thing. The underworld was always hungry, always searching for the next king, the next ruler who thought they could control the beast. But for now, at least, the city was quiet.

And for Luis, that was enough.