The Bellucci estate burned through the night, flames painting the sky with a hellish glow that could be seen for miles. By morning, only a smoldering ruin remained, and with it, the final vestiges of the Marcone-Bellucci stranglehold on the city were reduced to ash.
Alessandro stood at the edge of the wreckage, the dawn casting a pale light across his weary face. Smoke curled into the sky, a grim monument to the lives lost—and the battles won.
Rachel walked up behind him, bandaging a cut on her arm. "We've heard from Monroe," she said quietly. "The FBI has rounded up the last of Vittorio's lieutenants. The accounts we seized have funded witness protection for Vinnie's family, and then some. It's over, Alessandro."
He didn't answer at first, his eyes fixed on the embers. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost disbelieving. "I've fought so long… I don't remember what peace feels like."
They spent the day tying up loose ends. Alessandro's men cleared out safehouses, erased digital trails, and cut off old contacts who might one day seek revenge. Rachel coordinated with trusted FBI agents to ensure the Bellucci money was properly tracked and used to dismantle other syndicates across the city.
As the sun set, they met Monroe outside the FBI field office, where agents were loading boxes of seized documents and weapons into black SUVs.
"You kept your word," Monroe said, shaking Alessandro's hand with genuine respect. "I've never seen anyone take apart two crime families in a week. We couldn't have done it without you."
Alessandro only nodded, his expression unreadable. "Just make sure it stays finished."
Monroe hesitated, then added in a low voice, "There will always be someone looking to fill the void. But after what you did here… it'll be a long time before anyone tries."
That night, Alessandro and Rachel sat on the rooftop of his penthouse, the city spread out before them like a living thing. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of rain and the faint tang of smoke from the estate ruins.
"I can't believe it's really over," Rachel said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.
Alessandro exhaled slowly. "There's always another fight. But maybe… maybe we can choose our battles now."
She smiled faintly, turning to look at him. "And what do you choose?"
He met her gaze, his eyes softer than they'd been in years. "You," he said simply. "Us."
Below them, the city glowed with life—a city freed, at least for now, from the grip of the old families. And as the stars began to pierce the night sky, Alessandro allowed himself, for the first time in what felt like forever, to hope.