The Rise of Mackin Jones

Chapter 66

With Franco dead, Nico’s control over the city tightens, but the threat of rebellion grows as Mackin’s remaining allies rally against him.

The smaller crews begin to turn on each other, and the city spirals further into chaos. Nico’s ruthless tactics have kept him in power, but the cracks in his empire are widening, and new enemies are emerging from the shadows.

As the fires of rebellion begin to spread, Nico faces his greatest challenge yet: holding onto a city that’s ready to tear itself apart.

The war for control is reaching its breaking point.

The city was alive with tension. Franco’s death, meant to be the final blow that would solidify Nico’s control, had instead sparked something more dangerous.

The underworld was restless, like a hornet’s nest that had been struck too hard. The smaller crews, once content to bide their time, were now scrambling to either pledge allegiance to Nico or carve out a piece of the crumbling empire for themselves.

But beneath it all, a darker force was stirring—the remnants of Mackin Jones’ old crew, the ones who had survived through the cracks, waiting for their chance to strike.

Nico sat in his office, the dim light casting shadows across his face. His mind was racing, his instincts sharper than ever. Franco was dead, and that should have been the end of it. But instead, it had only made things worse. The city wasn’t falling in line—it was fracturing, splintering in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Luis stood across from him, a stack of reports in his hand. “It’s getting worse,” Luis said, his voice tight with concern. “We’ve got word that two more of the smaller crews are starting to fight over territory. And Mackin’s men—they’re regrouping. They know you took down Franco, but they’re not backing off. If anything, they’re digging in.”

Nico leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. “They’re testing us,” he said quietly. “Waiting to see how far they can push before I push back.”

Luis exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “And what happens when they push too far?”

Nico’s eyes flickered with something cold, something dangerous. “Then we break them.”

The warehouse where Mackin’s old crew had gathered was a fortress of shadows and secrets. In the aftermath of Franco’s death, the remaining lieutenants had come together, their faces hard with anger and the desire for revenge.

They had been patient, watching as Santoro rose and fell, as Nico claimed the city in blood and fire. But now, with Franco gone, they saw their moment.

Enzo sat at the head of the table, his expression grim. “Franco’s dead, and that means Nico thinks he’s won. He’s going to come for the rest of us next.”

One of the older lieutenants, a man named Sal, shook his head. “We’re scattered, Enzo. We don’t have the numbers to take Nico down head-on. Not yet.”

Enzo’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t need numbers. We need a strategy. Nico’s ruling through fear, just like Santoro did. And just like Santoro, that’s going to be his downfall. People are already starting to turn against him.”

Sal grunted, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe. But how do we make sure they turn fast enough? The longer Nico’s in power, the harder it’s going to be to pull him down.”

Enzo’s smile was grim, his mind already working through the details of the plan. “We don’t have to fight him directly. Not yet. We hit him where it hurts—his lieutenants, his operations. We make his men question him, make them think they’re better off without him. And when the time’s right, we take him down.”

The others nodded slowly, the weight of Enzo’s words sinking in. They knew Nico was dangerous—ruthless and smart. But they also knew he was stretched thin and that his control was far from secure. If they could undermine him from the inside, they might have a chance.

“We start small,” Enzo continued. “We hit a few of his supply lines, disrupted his operations. Make it look like his men are slipping. If we do it right, Nico will start to lose his grip.”

Sal frowned, his expression uncertain. “And if we’re wrong? If Nico catches on?”

Enzo’s eyes gleamed with cold determination. “Then we make sure he never gets the chance to.”

While Mackin’s old crew was plotting in the shadows, Nico was preparing for the inevitable. He knew the city wasn’t quieting down—if anything, it was becoming more volatile.

His lieutenants were still loyal, but there was an undercurrent of doubt running through the ranks. He could feel it, like a slow poison seeping into his organisation. Fear had kept them in line, but fear alone wouldn’t hold them forever.

Luis returned to the penthouse the next day, his face grim. “It’s started. One of our shipments got hit last night. Nothing major, but it’s enough to make people talk. Whoever did it is playing it smart—making it look like a slip-up, not an attack.”

Nico’s jaw tightened, his mind racing. This wasn’t just a random act of violence. It was calculated and deliberate. Whoever had hit his shipment wanted to destabilise his operations, to plant the seeds of doubt in his men’s minds.

“Mackin’s men,” Nico muttered. “They’re trying to make me look weak.”

Luis nodded. “We can’t let this go on. If they keep hitting us like this, it’s going to erode our control. The smaller crews are already starting to sniff around, looking for weaknesses.”

Nico stood, his expression hardening. “Then we shut it down. We find out who’s responsible, and we make an example of them. No more playing defence. We hit back, and we hit hard.”

The reaction came swiftly. Nico’s crew moved through the city like a force of nature, hunting down the men responsible for the attack on the shipment.

Word spread quickly that Nico wasn’t playing games—that anyone who crossed him would face the same brutal fate as Rocco, as Carlo, as Franco. But even as Nico’s men struck back, the tension in the city continued to grow.

Mackin’s old crew was still out there, still plotting. And now they were moving faster, more strategically. They weren’t just hitting Nico’s operations—they were spreading fear among his lieutenants, whispering in the dark corners of the underworld, planting seeds of doubt that were starting to take root.

Nico knew it was only a matter of time before someone else in his organisation started to waver. He could feel the cracks forming, even if no one else could. His control was slipping, and the only way to hold it was to strike first.

As the weeks passed, the city became a battleground, a place where power shifted with every death and every move. Nico’s crew had managed to push back against the smaller attacks, but the larger threat—the rebellion that Mackin’s men were stirring up—was still growing.

It was a war fought in the shadows, a slow, insidious campaign designed to weaken Nico from the inside.

Luis brought more troubling news as the days wore on. “We’re hearing more chatter from Mackin’s old crew,” he said, his voice tense. “They’re making moves, trying to rally more of the smaller crews to their side. They’re promising them a place in the new order—if they can help take you down.”

Nico’s eyes narrowed. “How many?”

“Too many to ignore,” Luis said. “If this keeps going, we’re going to have a full-blown rebellion on our hands.”

Nico exhaled slowly, his mind racing. He had always known that ruling this city would be a constant fight, a never-ending struggle for control. But now, with the threat of rebellion looming larger every day, he realised just how fragile his grip on power had become.

“They think they can turn the city against me,” Nico muttered. “But they’re wrong. I won’t let it happen.”

Luis hesitated, his eyes flickering with concern. “What are you planning?”

Nico’s gaze hardened. “We go after the heart of this rebellion. Mackin’s men have been hiding for too long, thinking they’re untouchable. It’s time we reminded them what happens when you cross me.”

Luis nodded, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “And if that doesn’t work? If the city still turns against us?”

Nico’s expression didn’t waver. “Then we burn it all down.”

The plan was simple but brutal. Nico would strike at the heart of Mackin’s rebellion, taking out the key lieutenants who had been orchestrating the attacks from the shadows. It was a high-risk move, but Nico knew it was his best chance to crush the rebellion before it grew too powerful.

The target was a safehouse on the outskirts of the city, a place where Mackin’s old lieutenants were rumoured to be meeting. Nico’s men moved swiftly, surrounding the building under the cover of darkness. There was no room for mistakes.

This wasn’t just a hit—it was a message. A final warning to anyone who thought they could challenge Nico’s rule.

The doors burst open, and chaos erupted inside the safehouse. Gunfire echoed through the night as Nico’s crew stormed the building, cutting down anyone who resisted. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood and the sound of bodies hitting the floor like thunder in the dark.

Enzo was among the last to fall, his body slumping against the wall as blood pooled beneath him. He had fought hard, but he was outnumbered and outgunned. Nico stood over him, his expression cold, his gun still smoking.

“You thought you could take this city from me,” Nico said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. “But you were wrong.”

Enzo coughed, blood trickling from his lips. “You think you’ve won, Nico?” he gasped. “This isn’t over. The city will turn on you. They’ll come for you.”

Nico’s eyes flashed with fury. “Let them come.”

And with that, he pulled the trigger. The final shot echoed through the empty room, and Enzo’s body went still.

The aftermath of the hit was swift and brutal. News of Enzo’s death spread quickly through the underworld, and for a moment, it seemed like the rebellion might be over.

Mackin’s lieutenants were either dead or in hiding; their power was shattered. Nico had won the battle, but as the dust settled, he realised that the war for the city was far from over.

The smaller crews were still watching, waiting for their chance to make a move. And the city itself—the heartbeat of the underworld—was still restless, still simmering with the tension of a power struggle that refused to die.

Luis returned to the penthouse the next day, his face set in a grim expression. “We’ve pushed back the rebellion for now,” he said. “But the city’s not calming down. People are still scared. And when people are scared, they do desperate things.”

Nico nodded, though his expression remained hard. He had crushed the rebellion, but he could feel the cracks in his empire widening. Fear had kept the city in line, but fear wasn’t enough anymore. The fires of rebellion had been lit, and even though he had doused the flames for now, they could spark again at any moment.

“Keep an eye on the streets,” Nico said. “We’re not done yet.”

Luis nodded, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. “You know, Nico, we can’t keep doing this forever. There’s only so much you can burn before there’s nothing left.”

Nico’s gaze hardened. “Then we rebuild. But first, we survive.”