Chapter 10 - The Rule of Queens
One year later.
The docks of Pier 42 were quiet under the starry night sky.
The old corrupt guard had been cleared out. The illegal routes were dismantled. The underbosses who had thought about stepping over the line had seen what happened to Victor Harlan and Marco Ricci, and they had chosen absolute loyalty instead.
I walked along the edge of the pier, my heavy wool coat buttoned against the chilly autumn wind.
Beside me, walking with a steady, confident stride, was Bruno. His coat was glossy, his head held high, his ears alert to every sound in the city he helped rule.
My phone rang in my pocket. I pulled it out and answered.
"Talk to me, Tony."
"Boss," Tony’s voice came through clear. "Just checking in from upstate. I dropped off the birthday present for Elena like you asked. She turned eight today."
"Did she like the horse?" I asked, a slight smile touching my lips.
"She nearly cried," Tony chuckled. "Tomas built a whole stable behind the house for it. She named the horse 'Bruno'."
I looked down at the dog beside me. Bruno’s tail gave a single, dignified wag at the sound of his name over the speaker.
"How are the streets?" I asked, shifting back to business.
"Quiet," Tony reported. "Brooklyn isn't stepping anywhere near our borders. The families in Manhattan sent their respects today for Carlo’s memorial anniversary. Everyone knows Queens is locked down tight."
"Good," I said. "Keep it that way. No drugs, no children, no poison."
"Understood, Boss. Have a good night."
I hung up the phone and slipped it back into my pocket.
I walked to the very end of the pier, looking out over the dark waters of the harbor, where the lights of the Manhattan skyline reflected like thousands of gold coins dancing on the tide.
I had been a killer. I had been a tyrant. I was a man who ruled through fear and blood, and I knew that when my time came, Heaven would not be opening its gates for Dominic Vance.
But as I stood there in the quiet midnight air, looking down at the scarred, brave beast standing faithfully at my side, I knew one thing for certain.
We had saved one little girl from the dark.
And in the cold, brutal world of the mob, that single spark of light was enough to warm a soul for a lifetime.
I reached down, my rough hand resting against Bruno’s heavy head, scratching him behind the ears just the way he liked.
May you like
"Come on, Brun," I said softly, turning back toward the car. "Let's go home."
Bruno let out a short, sharp bark of agreement, turned on his heels, and walked beside me into the night, guarding the king of Queens just as he always had.
