Chapter 37
Chapter 37: The Ghost of the Five Boroughs
Enzo stepped forward, the barrel of his weapon resting firmly against Vincent’s chest. The silver-haired Don didn't beg; he looked at Harper with a look of pure, unadulterated venom.
"You think you won?" Vincent spat, blood leaking from a small cut on his lip where he had bitten it in frustration. "You think the New York Commission is just going to let a Chicago boss take over the docks? There are families in Brooklyn, in Queens, in Staten Island who will burn this city before they pay tribute to a DeLuca."
"They won't be paying tribute to a DeLuca, Vincent," Harper said, stepping up beside her husband, her face cold and magnificent under the terminal lights. "They’ll be paying tribute to the Nathan & Lillian Foundation. Every dock you owned, every front corporation you ran, is being transferred to a corporate charity trust tomorrow morning under federal asset forfeiture laws. We aren't taking your territory, Vincent. We’re converting it."
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Enzo didn't pull the trigger. He didn't need to. He dropped a single, silver pair of handcuffs onto the floor at Vincent’s feet. "The marshals are waiting at the Madison Avenue exit, Vincent. You can choose to walk out with them, or you can stay here with me. Either way, your name ends tonight."
Vincent looked at the handcuffs, then at the massive screens displaying his family's destruction. For the first time in his long, brutal life, the shark looked old. He slowly reached down, picked up the steel irons, and clicked them around his own wrists, walking away into the darkness of the terminal without looking back.
