Chapter 8 - The Strike at Brooklyn Piers
At midnight, a heavy fog rolled over the Brooklyn docks.
Don Carmine sat inside a heated warehouse at Pier 42, flanked by twenty heavily armed mercenaries. He was confident. He believed Dominic would come crawling with the property deeds to save his daughter.
Suddenly, the warehouse doors were blown off their hinges with a deafening explosion.
Flashbangs detonated inside the dark space, blinding Carmine's men. Before they could recover, Dominic's elite tactical squad swarmed the building, taking out the guards with suppressed weaponry with lethal efficiency.
Carmine scrambled backward, reaching for his revolver, but a heavy boot slammed down onto his wrist, pinning it to the concrete floor.
Carmine looked up, coughing in the smoke, to see Dominic standing over him. Dominic held a sleek black pistol, his expression devoid of any mercy.
"Dominic... wait!" Carmine gasped, his face pale with terror. "We can negotiate! Take fifty percent of the shipping revenues! Just let me walk!"
"You threatened a six-year-old child, Carmine," Dominic said quietly, pulling the slide back on his weapon. "There are no negotiations for men like you."
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A single shot rang out through the foggy warehouse, echoing across the silent water of the bay.
By morning, the news spread across the five boroughs like wildfire: the Lucchesi family had surrendered all territory, and Dominic Moretti stood as the unchallenged, absolute ruler of the New York underworld.
