Chapter 8 - The Commission's Downfall
While peace returned to the small bakery in Astoria, Nico Falcone was not a man who left loose ends.
Three weeks after Milo’s recovery, Nico called an emergency summit of the Five Families of New York at a secure, subterranean boardroom beneath the Grand Hyatt Hotel in Manhattan.
Thirty armed guards stood along the mahogany walls. Sitting around the massive marble table were the oldest, most ruthless bosses of the American syndicate—men who had controlled unions, docks, and political offices for half a century.
Sitting at the head of the table was Nico Falcone. Beside him sat Luca, holding a thick leather briefcase.
"Nico," spoke Don Carmine, an eighty-year-old mob veteran with white hair and sharp blue eyes. "We heard about the trouble at St. Catherine's hospital three weeks ago. We heard Salvatore Marco tried to press a claim on your territory."
Nico leaned back in his leather chair, resting his hands on the polished marble table, his dark suit tailored to absolute perfection.
"Salvatore Marco made a fatal error," Nico said calmly, his voice echoing through the quiet boardroom. "He thought my personal life was a weakness he could exploit to destabilize the Falcone family."
Nico signaled to Luca.
Luca opened the briefcase and slid five thick yellow folders across the marble table toward each of the family bosses.
"Inside those folders," Nico announced flatly, "are complete financial, legal, and criminal dossiers on every illegal operation Salvatore Marco was running in Chicago, including his secret wiretaps with federal agents."
The old bosses opened the folders, their eyes scanning the documents rapidly, whispers of shock spreading across the table.
"He was talking to the FBI?" Don Carmine gasped, his face twisting in disgust.
"He was preparing to sell out the entire commission to save himself from a twenty-year extortion charge," Nico revealed coldly. "Yesterday morning, my lieutenants in Chicago seized all of Marco’s assets. His family business no longer exists. His men have been absorbed into my structure."
Nico stood up slowly, leaning over the table, his dark eyes sweeping over the five powerful men sitting before him.
"I am officially retiring from active street operations," Nico declared, his voice carrying the absolute weight of iron. "The Falcone syndicate is transitioning entirely into legitimate real estate, green energy, and international shipping."
A loud murmur of protest broke out among the bosses.
"You can't just step down, Nico!" one boss yelled. "Who keeps the peace?!"
Nico slammed his hand flat on the table with a sound like a gunshot. The room went instantly, dead silent.
"My cousin Mateo will handle the day-to-day administrative affairs of the territory," Nico commanded. "If any of you attempt to breach this agreement, if any of you try to bring street violence near my family or my wife's business... I will use my corporate resources, my legal teams, and my private security forces to erase your families from the East Coast."
May you like
He buttoned his jacket, took his leather gloves from the table, and walked toward the exit doors.
"Have a good afternoon, gentlemen," Nico said without looking back.
