The Rise of Mackin Jones

Chapter 87

The battle in the Dockyard is over, and Luis has crushed the last major threat to his rule. But the victory feels hollow, and the fires that have fuelled the city’s underworld continue to burn.

As Luis reflects on the cost of his power, he must decide how far he’s willing to go to keep what he has built. But in a city as dangerous as this one, survival comes at a steep price—and Luis is beginning to realise that no matter how many battles he wins, the city will always demand more.

The war may be over, but the city is never truly at peace.

The dockyard was still. The air, once thick with gunfire and the shouts of battle, had settled into a haunting silence, broken only by the distant roll of thunder. Luis stood in the rain-soaked streets, staring at the warehouse where Franco had fallen.

The man who had once been one of Nico’s most trusted allies was now just another body in the long line of corpses Luis had left behind.

But the victory didn’t feel like a triumph. It felt like a hollow echo, a reminder that in the underworld, there were no real winners. There were only survivors—and even survival had its price.

Maria walked beside him, her face impassive as always, but Luis could sense the weight in her gaze. She didn’t say anything and didn’t need to. They both knew that this wasn’t over. Not really. They had won the battle in the dockyard, but the war for the city’s soul was far from finished.

“You did what you had to,” Maria said after a long silence, her voice steady but tinged with an underlying exhaustion.

Luis nodded, though his heart wasn’t in it. He had done what needed to be done, but at what cost? He had crushed the last major threat to his rule, but the city still felt like a beast lurking beneath the surface, waiting for the next opportunity to turn on him.

“Doesn’t feel like a win,” Luis muttered, his eyes fixed on the wet pavement beneath his feet.

Maria stopped, turning to face him. “It never does. But you’re still standing. That’s what matters.”

Luis glanced up at her, the storm in his mind mirrored by the one raging around them. “For how long?”

Maria’s gaze hardened, but there was something close to sympathy in her expression. “As long as you can hold it.”

Luis turned away, his thoughts a swirling mess of frustration, exhaustion, and the creeping sense that he was losing more of himself with each battle. The city had always been a place of blood and ambition, and in the end, Luis knew that it would consume him just as it had consumed everyone before him. But for now, he was still standing. For now, he was still in control.

“We should go,” Maria said quietly, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

Luis nodded, the weight of everything pressing down on him as they walked away from the dockyard, leaving the bloodshed behind. But as they made their way through the dark, rain-soaked streets, Luis couldn’t shake the feeling that something was waiting for him—something bigger, more dangerous than any of the threats he had faced before.

The days that followed the Dockyard battle were a blur of damage control. Luis and Maria worked tirelessly to reassert their control over the fractured pieces of the city’s underworld, but the unrest was palpable. The smaller crews had seen the chaos in the dockyard, and while they weren’t openly challenging Luis yet, the whispers were growing louder.

Carlos, the lieutenant Luis had put in charge of the Southside, was struggling to maintain order. Luis had hoped that Carlos’s loyalty would be enough to keep the crews in line, but now it was clear that he didn’t have the strength to hold such a volatile part of the city. Luis could see it in the reports coming in—disputes over territory, rising tension between rival factions, and the ever-present threat of another rebellion simmering just below the surface.

Luis sat in his office one evening, the dim light from the street casting long shadows across the room. The map of the city was spread out in front of him, and he stared at it with a growing sense of dread. He had fought so hard to keep the city from tearing itself apart, but now it felt like everything was slipping through his fingers. The fire he had tried to contain was still burning, and it was only a matter of time before it consumed everything.

Maria entered the room, her expression tense. She moved quietly, her presence both comforting and unsettling. She had been by his side through every battle and every decision, and yet Luis could feel the strain between them. It wasn’t mistrust—it was something deeper. A shared understanding of what this life had cost them both.

“We need to talk,” Maria said, her voice low but urgent.

Luis looked up, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. “What is it?”

Maria crossed the room, standing in front of his desk. “Carlos can’t hold the Southside. It’s getting worse. If we don’t make a move soon, the crews are going to start fighting over what’s left. We’ll lose the Southside, and once that happens, the Dockyard won’t be far behind.”

Luis exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. He had known this was coming. The Southside had always been a problem, and Carlos, while loyal, didn’t have the authority or the presence to keep the crews in line. But replacing him wasn’t as simple as finding someone stronger—whoever took over the Southside would have to be ruthless enough to command respect without turning into another Salvatore.

“We need someone new,” Maria continued, her eyes scanning the map. “Someone who can take control without sparking another war.”

Luis leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. “Who do we have?”

Maria hesitated for a moment, then spoke. “There’s a lieutenant from the Eastside—Miguel. He’s been quietly consolidating power, but he’s smart. He’s not trying to overstep, not yet. He’s been loyal, and he’s got the strength to handle the Southside.”

Luis frowned. He knew Miguel, though they hadn’t worked closely before. He was a quiet figure in the underworld, respected but not well-known. That could work in Luis’s favour, but it was also a risk. Miguel was untested in a leadership role, and the Southside wasn’t just any part of the city—it was a volatile, dangerous place that could turn on a leader in an instant.

“Do you trust him?” Luis asked, his voice heavy with the weight of the decision.

Maria nodded. “I do. He’s kept his head down, but he’s not weak. He knows how to navigate the politics of the city, and he’s smart enough not to challenge you.”

Luis stared at the map, his mind racing through the possibilities. Miguel could be the answer to the Southside’s problems, but if he made the wrong move, it could spark a war that would spread to the rest of the city. But Luis knew that doing nothing wasn’t an option. If they didn’t act soon, the Southside would implode, and everything they had fought for would fall apart.

“Alright,” Luis said finally. “Bring Miguel in. I want to meet with him.”

Maria nodded, already moving towards the door. “I’ll set it up.”

As she left, Luis sat alone in the office, the storm outside matching the one inside his mind. The city was still fragile, still teetering on the edge of chaos, and Luis couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter what decision he made, the fire would keep burning.

Miguel arrived at the penthouse two days later. He was younger than Luis had expected, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that spoke of experience. He moved with the quiet confidence of someone who had learned to survive in the city’s underworld without drawing too much attention to himself. Luis respected that—men like Miguel didn’t rise to power by accident.

Maria was there too, standing by the window as Luis and Miguel sat across from each other in the dimly lit office.

“I understand you’ve been handling things on the Eastside,” Luis said, his tone measured but direct. “You’ve done good work.”

Miguel nodded, his expression calm but focused. “I’ve done what I can. The Eastside’s been stable since Angelo fell, but it’s not without its challenges.”

Luis leaned back in his chair, studying the man in front of him. “I’ve got a problem in the Southside. Carlos isn’t able to hold it. I need someone who can step in, take control, and keep the crews in line without turning it into another war. I’m offering you the job.”

Miguel didn’t flinch, but Luis could see the weight of the offer settling on him. It was a dangerous proposition—taking control of the Southside was a gamble, even for a seasoned player in the underworld. But it was also an opportunity.

“I’ll take it,” Miguel said after a moment, his voice steady. “But I’ll need time to get the crews in line. The Southside’s a mess right now, and if I move too fast, it’ll blow up in our faces.”

Luis nodded, appreciating the man’s pragmatism. “Take what you need. But make it clear that this is the last chance they get. If the Southside goes, the rest of the city will follow.”

Miguel stood, his expression unreadable but determined. “I won’t let that happen.”

Luis watched him go, the tension in his chest easing slightly. Miguel was a risk, but he was the best option Luis had. And in a city like this, every decision was a gamble.

As the door closed behind Miguel, Maria turned to face Luis. “You made the right call.”

Luis exhaled slowly, his eyes still on the door. “We’ll see.”

The weeks that followed were a test of endurance. Miguel moved quickly, establishing his control over the Southside with a mix of diplomacy and force. He met with the leaders of the smaller crews, carefully balancing their demands with the need to maintain order. Slowly, the tension began to ease, and the Southside, once a tinderbox ready to explode, started to stabilise.

But Luis knew that peace in the city was always temporary. The fire had been contained for now, but it was still burning beneath the surface. The dockyard remained a potential threat, and the smaller crews, though quiet for the moment, were still watching, waiting for any sign of weakness.

Luis sat in his office one evening, the city’s lights twinkling in the distance. The skyline, once a symbol of his victory, now felt like a reminder of how fragile his control was. No matter how many battles he won, no matter how many enemies he took down, the city was never truly his. It was always shifting, always moving, like a living thing that refused to be tamed.

The rain had stopped, leaving the streets below glistening under the neon lights. The storm had passed, but Luis couldn’t shake the feeling that another one was on the horizon—one that would be even more dangerous than the last. He had put out the fires in the Southside for now, and Miguel seemed to be holding things together. But Luis knew better than to think that the quiet would last. It never did.

Maria entered the room, her footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. She was carrying a folder in her hands, her expression serious. Luis didn’t need to ask what it was—he knew it was more bad news. There was always more bad news.

“Dockyard,” Maria said, handing him the folder. “Nico’s old contacts are still moving. We managed to shut down Franco’s operation, but there’s another group making noise. They’ve been quiet, but they’re consolidating.”

Luis opened the folder, skimming through the reports. It was a list of names, places, and operations—details about the remnants of Nico’s old crew who had slipped through the cracks after Leo’s fall. They had been lying low, biding their time, but now they were starting to resurface. And if they managed to rally enough support, the Dockyard could become a problem again.

“What’s their angle?” Luis asked, his voice tired but sharp.

Maria leaned against the desk, her arms crossed. “They want the Dockyard back. They don’t think you’ve got the strength to hold it. They’re testing the waters, seeing how far they can push before you push back.”

Luis’s jaw tightened. He had fought hard to take control of the dockyard, and now it felt like the same old story was playing out again. Every time he put down one threat, another rose to take its place. The city was relentless in its hunger for power.

“We can’t let them regroup,” Luis said, his voice cold and determined. “We need to move before they get any stronger.”

Maria nodded, though her expression was thoughtful. “It’s not going to be easy. They’re smart, and they’re staying out of sight. If we go in too heavy, we risk starting something bigger than we can control.”

Luis stared at the folder, his mind racing. He knew she was right. The dockyard was a delicate balance of power, and if he made the wrong move, it could spiral into chaos. But he also knew that waiting too long could be just as dangerous.

“I don’t want another war,” Luis said finally, his voice low. “But I’m not going to let them tear the city apart.”

Maria watched him carefully, her eyes sharp. “We could send a message. Hit one of their operations quietly. Remind them who’s in charge without starting a full-scale fight.”

Luis considered her suggestion. A targeted strike might be enough to send a warning to keep the smaller crews from getting too ambitious. But he also knew that subtlety wasn’t always enough in a city like this. Sometimes, you had to show strength—real, undeniable strength—to keep the wolves at bay.

“Do it,” Luis said, closing the folder. “But make sure it’s clean. I don’t want bodies in the streets if we can avoid it.”

Maria gave a curt nod, already turning to leave. “I’ll handle it.”

As she walked out of the room, Luis leaned back in his chair, his mind heavy with the weight of the decision. He had been fighting for so long—fighting to keep the city from burning, fighting to keep control of the empire he had built. But the more he fought, the more he realised that the city was always one step ahead, always waiting for the next chance to push back.

The next night, Luis’s men moved through the dockyard like shadows, slipping into the heart of Nico’s old territory without making a sound. Maria had planned the operation with precision, and Luis trusted her to carry it out. The target was a small warehouse on the edge of the docks, a front for one of the smuggling operations that Nico’s old crew had re-established. It wasn’t a major hub, but it was important enough to send a message.

Luis stayed behind, watching from a distance as the strike unfolded. His men worked quickly, disabling the guards and cutting off the warehouse’s communication lines. By the time anyone inside realised what was happening, it was already too late. The operation was over in minutes—clean, efficient, and with minimal bloodshed. Just as Luis had ordered.

But as Luis watched the warehouse burn in the distance, a cold pit formed in his stomach. He had sent a message, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. The city didn’t respond to warnings for long. It wanted more. It always wanted more.

Maria returned later that night, her expression unreadable as she entered the penthouse. Luis could tell from the way she moved that the operation had gone off without a hitch, but there was still tension in the air between them.

“It’s done,” Maria said simply, her voice flat.

Luis nodded, though he didn’t feel any sense of victory. “What’s the fallout?”

Maria shrugged, though her eyes were dark. “They’ll be rattled. But they won’t stay down for long. We took out one of their operations, but it’s not going to stop them.”

Luis sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had known that, of course. The city’s hunger was insatiable, and no matter how many times he struck, there would always be someone waiting to take the place of the fallen.

“We’ll keep an eye on them,” Maria continued, her voice more controlled now. “If they try to regroup, we’ll move again. But for now, the Dockyard is quiet.”

Luis stared out the window, watching the rain fall against the glass. The quiet never lasted. It was always the calm before the next storm, the brief moment of peace before the city demanded more blood, more power.

“Is it ever going to stop, Maria?” Luis asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Maria didn’t answer right away. She crossed the room, standing beside him as she looked out at the city below. Her expression was unreadable, but Luis could feel the weight of her thoughts.

“No,” she said finally, her voice soft but resolute. “The city never stops. It never gives. It just takes.”

Luis closed his eyes, the truth of her words settling over him like a heavy fog. He had known that from the beginning, but hearing it out loud made it feel more real, more inevitable. The city would never stop. It would never be satisfied. And as long as Luis stayed in power, it would keep coming for him, demanding more until there was nothing left to give.

“You’ve kept it together longer than anyone,” Maria added, her voice quiet but firm. “That has to mean something.”

Luis opened his eyes, staring out at the city that had taken so much from him. “Does it?”

Maria looked at him, her eyes hard but filled with something close to empathy. “You’ve survived, Luis. You’ve done what no one else could. But that’s the price of survival. You keep going, or you fall.”

Luis nodded, though the weight of her words pressed down on him like a leaden shroud. He had survived, but at what cost? How much more would he have to give before the city finally took everything?

As Maria turned to leave, Luis remained by the window, watching the rain blur the lights of the city. The dockyard was quiet, but the fire still burnt beneath the surface. The Southside was holding, but only just. And the smaller crews, though silent for now, were always waiting, always watching for their next opportunity.

The city was never truly at peace. It was always hungry, always demanding more.

And Luis knew that one day the city would take him too.