Page 62 of Scar

“I'm good, babe,” he replies softly. “Just can't wait to get home to you.”

Suddenly, headlights appear in the distance, piercing through the darkness. The truck is approaching.

“Showtime,” Brando declares, sitting up straighter in his seat.

Attila and Jekyll quickly slip out of the SUV with calculated and silent movements. They position themselves on either side of the road, hidden in the shadows.

The truck rumbles closer, its engine growling and sending vibrations through the ground. As it reaches our predetermined ambush point, Brando switches on the SUV's headlights, flooding the road with light. The driver slams on the brakes, screeching tires announcing their arrival.

“Move!” Scar barks into his comm device, and Attila and The Jekyll spring into action.

They approach the truck from opposite sides of the cabin with their guns drawn. The driver raises his hands in surrender, but the passenger attempts to reach for a weapon. Attila is quicker and yanks open the door, forcefully dragging the man out and throwing him to the ground.

Brando and Scar stand guard at the sides of the truck, scanning for any other passengers. Finding no one else, they turn their attention to the cargo. Brando uses a crowbar to pry open the back doors, revealing neatly stacked crates inside. He grabs a crowbar and opens one of the crates, confirming its contents - packages of cocaine worth millions on the street.

“We hit the jackpot,” Brando exclaims.

Scar turns to the two men lying on the ground. “Who do you work for?” he demands in a chilling tone.

The driver spits blood and defies them. “Go to hell,” he growls.

Scar's expression remains unchanged as he gives a nod to Attila, who promptly raises his gun and fires a shot. The sound echoes through the night as the driver slumps lifeless to the ground. The other man begins to beg for mercy, but his pleas are cut short by another shot from Attila.

“No loose ends,” Scar repeats, almost to himself. It doesn't matter who these men were working for; they're all going to die tonight.

They don't bother unloading the crates. Instead, Brando pours gasoline over them from a canister they had brought along.

Scar strikes a match and tosses it onto the cargo, igniting a blazing inferno that consumes the drugs in orange and red flames. The fire crackles and sparks, sending a satisfying halo of light into the night sky.

“Let's go,” Scar says emotionlessly. The job is done, and they know they can't stick around.

They climb back into their SUV, watching as the glow from the fire reflects in their rearview mirror as they speed away. The highway is deserted once again, with only the smoldering ashes and two lifeless bodies left behind as evidence of their presence.

“I'm coming home,” I whisper.

“I'll be there, princess.”

They continue their spree of destruction, targeting a slaughterhouse, a restaurant where girls are being held and sold as slaves, and a truck carrying ammunition to their rivals across state lines.

They annihilate. They obliterate. They incinerate. And they conquer.

After three days of chaos, the news is flooded with stories of “vigilante justice” and the mayor declares a state of emergency.

None of these incidents can be linked back to the Gattis or any of their known associates - at least not legally. But in the dark underbelly of the criminal world, whispers spread like wildfire, making anyone who considers crossing the Gattis think twice before taking action.

CHAPTER 55 – SCAR

It feels like a celebration, a rare moment of joy amidst all the chaos and violence that has consumed us. Don Marone is visibly moved when he sees his daughter, and he immediately embraces her in a comforting hug. We all enter the house to toast to our successful reclaiming of what was rightfully ours, sharing drinks and congratulating each other. Caleph raises his glass in a toast to true alliances while Dante adds a toast to old friends and new beginnings. Both men will be leaving soon; eager, I'm sure, to return to their families and wives. And I am also looking forward to reuniting with my wife, who stands in a corner with her mother, whispering excitedly about something that we all know is the news of her pregnancy. I feel grateful that both she and her mother will be present in my child's life. I gaze around the room at my family - my brothers and closest friends, allies who fought alongside us in this war. It's kind of Don Marone to open his home for this celebration, as we all prepare to go back to our respective homes soon.

Our family home has been destroyed, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. We have many smaller properties scattered throughout the city, but I like the thought of having a proper estate where our children can run and play, and my brothers can visit as often as they please. Maybe we could even purchase an entire street for just the four Gatti brothers. I find myself drawn to this idea, living in such close proximity to my siblings who are like my best friends.

“Attila and The Jekyll will stay with on for a few days to ensure everything goes smoothly,” Caleph says, handing me another drink.

I agree with him - it's a good plan. With the heads of four rival families now eliminated, there's no telling who will try to take their place and challenge our power.

“It might be wise to divide and conquer,” Dante suggests. “We have your back, no matter what.”

He proposes that each brother takes responsibility for the assets of a different family as we consolidate their legitimate businesses and eliminate any unwanted attention. It's a clever strategy, but this is not the life I imagined for Rafi. I'm not sure that I want him involved in this dangerous world. Dante seems to sense my hesitation.

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