Chapter 8 - The Fall of the North Side
Three days later.
The city of Chicago was unusually quiet. The rain had cleared, leaving behind a crisp, cool autumn breeze that carried the bright colors of fallen leaves through the streets of the Gold Coast.
In an underground parking garage beneath a luxury high-rise on Michigan Avenue, Don Carmine sat in the back of his bulletproof black sedan, waiting for his driver to return with his passport and cash ledgers.
Carmine was seventy-two, thin, with sharp, bird-like features and cold blue eyes that had seen forty years of mafia warfare.
The driver's door opened.
Carmine didn't look up from his phone. "Did you get the Zurich transfer codes?"
"Your driver won't be joining us today, Carmine."
Carmine’s head snapped up.
Sitting in the front passenger seat, turning slowly to face him with a suppressed pistol resting on the headrest, was Dominic Caruso. Beside him, in the driver's seat, was Victor Romano, smoking a thick Cuban cigar.
Carmine’s breath caught in his throat. "Dominic... Victor... listen to me. Marcus Bell was a rogue element. He lied to me—"
"Marcus is feeding the fish in Lake Michigan, Carmine," Victor said, blowing a ring of blue smoke toward the windshield. "And his backers are going with him."
"You can't do this!" Carmine rasped, backing against the leather seat, his hand reaching for his door handle. "The commission won't allow a war on the North Side!"
"There won't be a war, Carmine," Dominic said, his voice flat, devoid of anger, which made it ten times more terrifying. "Because as of five minutes ago, your senior captains signed over all your docks and logistics routes to the combined Caruso-Romano council."
Carmine blinked, his face turning gray. "They... they betrayed me?"
"They didn't betray you," Dominic corrected him softly, raising the silenced barrel. "They just realized that a three-year-old girl has more honor than you ever did."
Two suppressed shots echoed softly inside the sealed cabin of the luxury sedan.
Ten minutes later, Dominic and Victor walked out of the parking garage into the crisp afternoon air, where four black SUVs waited for them on the curb.
Victor stopped, looking at Dominic, his old, arrogant posture replaced by a quiet, weary respect.
May you like
"The merger of our shipping companies goes through on Monday," Victor said, holding out his hand. "No more wars, Dominic. For my daughter's sake."
Dominic shook the older man's hand with a firm, solid grip. "No more wars, Victor."
