Chapter 18 - The Brooklyn ReckoningBy dawn, the message had been delivered.
Don Vincente Rossi stood on the grand marble steps of his Brooklyn brownstone, staring down at the three bound, bruised capos shivering in the morning chill. Resting squarely on Marco’s chest was the high-end signal jammer, flashing a single, mocking red light.
Rossi’s face turned purple with rage. The humiliation was absolute. Dominic Moretti hadn't just defeated his raiding party; he had returned them like broken toys with a note written in blood and silence.
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"Call a sit-down," Rossi roared, kicking the stone steps. "Call every capo in the five boroughs. We end Dominic Moretti once and for all. Tonight."
Word of the impending war spread through the underworld like wildfire. The streets of New York braced for a bloodbath. Informants locked their doors, cops stayed in their cruisers, and rival factions scrambled to pick a side before the inevitable collision between Brooklyn and Manhattan.
