The Rise of Mackin Jones

Chapter 85

Luis has reclaimed control of the Southside and the Dockyard, but the cracks in his empire are growing wider.

The city is still restless, and new threats are emerging from the shadows. As Luis fights to hold everything together, he must confront the reality that the underworld is always hungry for more. The fire that burns beneath the surface is growing stronger, and Luis is running out of time to stop it.

The final battle for control of the city is coming, and not everyone will survive.

The city had never felt more unstable. Luis had managed to secure the Southside and the Dockyard, but the cracks in his control were spreading faster than he could contain them.

The delicate alliances he had brokered with the smaller crews were fraying, and the tension in the streets was palpable. Everywhere Luis looked, he saw shadows of doubt, whispers of rebellion. It was clear now that his efforts to unite the city’s underworld had only delayed the inevitable.

A final confrontation was coming, and Luis knew it would decide not only his fate but the fate of the entire city.

He stood in his penthouse, staring out at the skyline as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, ominous shadows across the streets. Maria stood behind him, silent but ever watchful. She had been his constant throughout this bloody war for control, but even she knew that the end was approaching, one way or another.

“They’re moving,” Maria said quietly, her voice cutting through the heavy silence in the room.

Luis didn’t turn to face her, but his expression hardened. “Who?”

“Raúl,” Maria replied, her tone sharp. “He’s rallied the remnants of Angelo’s crew and a few of the smaller factions. Word is he’s planning a move on the Eastside. He’s not hiding it anymore, Luis. He’s coming for you.”

Luis clenched his fists, the frustration boiling inside him. Raúl had been simmering beneath the surface for months, quietly gathering support, testing Luis’s patience. Now, it seemed, Raúl had finally decided to make his move. It was a dangerous play, but Luis couldn’t afford to underestimate him.

“And the others?” Luis asked, his voice low and controlled.

Maria stepped forward, her expression tense. “The Dockyard is holding for now, but the Southside is restless. Salvatore’s death has left a vacuum, and even though we’ve put Carlos in charge, he’s struggling to keep the smaller crews in line. If Raúl moves, the Southside could follow.”

Luis’s mind raced. The Southside and the Dockyard were critical to maintaining his grip on the city, but Raúl’s ambitions threatened to unravel everything. Raúl wasn’t just after power—he wanted to tear down the entire structure Luis had built. And if the Southside joined him, the city would descend into an all-out war.

“We can’t let Raúl gain any more ground,” Luis said, his voice hard. “If he consolidates power in the Eastside, the rest of the city will fall in line behind him.”

Maria nodded. “He’s making his move tonight. We have to hit him before he has a chance to rally the rest of the crews.”

Luis turned to face her, his eyes filled with a cold determination. “We end this now.”

The night air was thick with tension as Luis and his men prepared for the assault. Raúl’s forces had gathered in the Eastside, using an old factory as their base of operations. Luis knew the terrain well—he had fought battles in these streets before, back when Nico had ruled the city. But this time, the stakes were higher. This wasn’t just about holding territory. This was about survival.

Luis’s forces moved quietly through the shadows, positioning themselves around the factory. He had brought his most trusted men—veterans of the bloody wars that had torn the city apart in the past. They knew what was at stake, and they were ready to follow Louis into battle one last time.

Maria stood at his side, her expression unreadable but fierce. She had been with him from the beginning, and now, as they prepared to face Raúl’s forces, Luis felt a grim sense of finality. This was the moment that would decide everything.

“They’ve got lookouts posted,” Maria whispered, her eyes scanning the darkened building ahead. “Raúl is not taking any chances.”

Luis nodded, his mind working through the details of the plan. He had split his forces into two groups—one to engage Raúl’s men head-on and the other to circle and cut off any escape routes. Raúl thought he had the upper hand, but Luis was determined to outmanoeuvre him, to strike before Raúl could fully consolidate his power.

“We go in hard, fast,” Luis said, his voice low but commanding. “No mistakes. Raúl can’t walk out of here alive.”

Maria gave a sharp nod, her hand resting on the grip of her gun. “Understood.”

With a final glance at his men, Luis signalled the attack.

The first shots rang out, shattering the tense silence of the night. Luis’s forces surged forward, storming the factory with cold, calculated precision. The air was filled with the deafening roar of gunfire, the sharp crack of bullets tearing through the darkness. Luis moved through the chaos with practised ease, his gun steady in his hand as he cut down Raúl’s men with ruthless efficiency.

Inside the factory, the battle raged on, brutal and unrelenting. Raúl’s forces fought back fiercely. But they were caught off guard by the speed and intensity of Luis’s assault. Bodies fell to the ground, the factory floor slick with blood as the two sides clashed in a deadly dance of violence.

Luis pushed deeper into the building, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought his way towards Raúl. He knew this battle would end only one way—with Raúl’s death. There could be no negotiation, no truce. Raúl had made his choice, and now he had to pay the price.

Maria was at his side, her movements fluid and precise as she took out any threats that came their way. She had always been a formidable force in the underworld, but tonight she fought with a cold, quiet intensity that reminded Luis why he had come to rely on her so much. Together, they were unstoppable.

As they reached the centre of the factory, Luis spotted Raúl across the room, barking orders to his remaining men. Raúl’s face was twisted with anger and desperation, but there was no fear in his eyes. He had come to fight, and he wasn’t going to back down.

Luis didn’t hesitate. He raised his gun and fired.

The bullet tore through the air, hitting Raúl in the shoulder and spinning him around. Raúl staggered but didn’t fall. He turned to face Luis, his eyes burning with fury as he raised his weapon.

“You think this is over, Luis?” Raúl shouted, his voice filled with venom. “You think killing me will save you?”

Luis stepped forward, his gun still aimed at Raúl. “It’s over for you.”

Raúl sneered, blood dripping from his wound. “You don’t get it, do you? The city doesn’t belong to you. It never did. You’re just another king waiting to fall.”

Luis didn’t respond. He pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed through the factory, and Raúl collapsed to the floor, his body crumpling in a pool of blood. For a moment, the room was silent, the sounds of gunfire and chaos fading into the distance.

It was over.

Luis stood over Raúl’s lifeless body, his chest heaving with adrenaline. The battle had been brutal, but he had won. Raúl was dead, and with him, the last major threat to Luis’s control over the city.

But as Luis looked down at Raúl, the man who had tried to tear everything from him, he didn’t feel the satisfaction he had expected. There was no sense of triumph, no relief. Only the cold, hollow realisation that this wasn’t the end. It never would be.

The days that followed were filled with tense negotiations and power plays as Luis worked to solidify his control over the city. Raúl’s death had left a void in the Eastside, and Luis wasted no time in filling it with one of his loyal lieutenants. But the unrest in the Southside continued to simmer, and the Dockyard remained a volatile powder keg waiting to explode.

Luis knew that he had won the battle, but the war for the city’s soul was far from over.

He sat in the penthouse one evening, staring out at the city that stretched endlessly before him. The skyline glittered with lights, but beneath the surface, the city was still burning. The fires of rebellion had been quelled for now, but they hadn’t been extinguished. They never would be.

Maria entered the room, her expression unreadable as she approached. She had been quiet since the battle, watching Luis closely, but tonight, there was something different in her eyes. Something close to concern.

“You did it,” Maria said softly, standing beside him. “Raúl’s gone. The city’s yours again.”

Luis didn’t respond immediately. He just stared out at the skyline, his thoughts heavy. “It’s never really mine, Maria. It belongs to itself. Always has.”

Maria watched him for a long moment, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe. But you’ve held it together longer than anyone else. That has to mean something.”

Luis exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “It means that for now, I’ve managed to keep the fires from burning everything down. But they’re still there. And one day, they’ll come for me too.”

Maria nodded, though there was a quiet sadness in her eyes. “You know that better than anyone, don’t you?”

Luis met her gaze, his expression grim. “Yeah. I do.”

They stood in silence for a while, the weight of their shared experiences hanging between them. They had fought for this city, bled for it, and in the end, it had taken more from them than they had ever anticipated. But even now, with the underworld in his hands, Luis couldn’t shake the feeling that he was just another king waiting to fall.

“Maria,” Luis said quietly, breaking the silence. “If something happens to me if the city finally takes me down... you’ll be ready, won’t you?”

Maria’s eyes softened slightly, but her voice was firm. “I’ve always been ready, Luis. You know that.”

Luis nodded, though the weight of his own words settled heavily in his chest. He had fought so hard to build something in this city, to hold it together, but in the end, the city was always hungry for more.

And no matter how much blood had been spilt, no matter how many battles had been won, the city would never truly be his.

It belonged to itself.