The last week of October.
The profits from gasoline taxes had already reached an astonishing $6.7 million. This incredible speed of wealth accumulation had naturally attracted the attention of many people with ulterior motives.
Quite a few people coveted the business, but due to the overwhelming strength of the Lucchese crime family, very few dared to openly extend their claws.
Moreover, the Russian gang also had John Wick, known in the underworld as Baba Yaga, a terrifying figure feared by countless people in New York.
On top of that, the mass rally scheduled for next week had captured the attention of nearly every gang in New York. It was an unprecedented event, and both government officials and the media were watching it closely.
The man organizing the rally was Joe Colombo, the boss of the Colombo crime family, currently the most media-exposed Mafia boss in America.
When it came to media exposure, even Carlo Gambino couldn't compete with this guy.
Yes.
In Gambino's eyes, Colombo was a damn fucking idiot.
A quiet neighborhood on Long Island, New York.
Carlo Gambino lived in a rather unremarkable house. This godforsaken place was far away from the gang activity hubs of downtown New York, with fewer criminals around and a generally quiet atmosphere.
For Gambino, that was perfect.
He needed peace and quiet to recover.
After all, he suffered from serious heart disease, and emotional agitation could easily trigger a dangerous heart spasm.
At the moment, a guest sat across from him.
Victor "Little Vic" Amuso—the boss of the Lucchese crime family.
"How have you been lately?" Victor asked with a concerned expression as he looked at the thin Gambino reclining in his chair.
"Want to know when I'm going to die?" Gambino replied with a smile, though his words were sharp.
"You bastards are all hoping I'll go meet God sooner!"
Victor simply smiled without replying.
After all, only if the chairman of the Commission died would everyone else have a chance to move up.
Carlo Gambino stood at the peak of the Mafia power pyramid.
He was the chairman of the Mafia Commission, the most powerful governing body in the American Mafia.
But Victor understood perfectly well how Gambino had reached that position.
Originally, the Gambino family had been known as the Mangano family.
To rise to power, Gambino conspired with other families and assassinated the boss.
Afterward, Gambino seized control and renamed the family.
Then he led the organization to unprecedented power.
The Lucchese family had also participated in that rebellion.
Back then, Lucchese, Genovese, and Gambino had worked together to help Gambino seize control of the Commission.
But that was many years ago.
Now, with such a long and complicated history between them, the two families were once again cooperating to plot the death of another boss.
Their target:
Joe Colombo, who would hold the massive rally next week.
At that moment, Gambino said coldly:
"I've already made arrangements. Joe Gallo from the Colombo family—that madman also hates Colombo. Since he wants the throne, let him carry all the blame when the time comes."
"Good."
Victor nodded silently.
That old bastard Gambino truly deserved his reputation.
He was a master of sitting on the sidelines and watching the other people fight.
Most of the time he hid quietly on Long Island, secretly manipulating other families into conflict.
In the end, everyone else suffered heavy losses while Gambino remained completely unharmed and quietly profited from the chaos.
Meanwhile, in New York.
Over the past few days, Luca and Mariggio had been busy taking over port terminals and arranging for Russian oil tankers to arrive.
According to orders from the boss, the Gambino family had chosen to compromise.
They handed over the ports previously controlled by Gotti and voluntarily withdrew.
Naturally, Luca didn't hesitate.
He immediately stepped in and took full control of the ports.
With a combination of dirty secrets, Mafia intimidation tactics, and assistance from the truck drivers' union, the takeover went smoothly.
Truck drivers were everywhere.
A place like a port—where cargo transportation was essential—couldn't function without trucks.
The Teamsters union was the largest and most powerful labor union in the United States.
Other unions had to show it respect.
Without trucks, half the docks in the country would grind to a halt.
At a dock in New York State.
An oil tanker was currently unloading its cargo while dockworkers moved efficiently, loading oil into waiting trucks for transport.
Watching this scene, Abram felt ecstatic.
What they were transporting wasn't dark crude oil.
It was glittering cash.
"Hahaha, Dove!" Abram laughed loudly while gripping Luca's hand. "From this day forward, you are the best friend of us Russians!"
"Mr. Pushkin is extremely satisfied with this cooperation," Abram continued. "He asked us to deliver you a gift—special pricing. We'll sell the oil to you at a discount."
"Please thank Mr. Pushkin for me," Luca replied with a smile.
Luca wasn't entirely sure how powerful this man was in Russia, but anyone capable of controlling such a large oil business was definitely a major figure within the Russian Mafia.
"Is your refinery ready?" Abram asked.
"From now on, we can supply you anytime."
"It's been ready for a long time."
Luca couldn't help feeling excited.
Once the entire supply chain was running smoothly, he could easily make eight figures per week.
But there were still some minor troubles to consider.
The end of the year was approaching.
Soon the IRS would begin auditing his taxes.
Luca reminded Abram to tell his people to be ready to pack everything up and run at any moment.
"Don't worry," Abram laughed. "Running away is something Russians are extremely good at."
Luca: "…"
You Russians really have impressive experience dealing with American authorities.
---
Back at the club, Luca shifted his focus toward the public rally next week.
The question was simple.
Regarding the assassination of Joe Colombo:
Should they save him?
Stand by and watch?
Or secretly deliver the final blow?
At such a critical moment, every choice would lead to different results—and different profits.
According to the original timeline, Colombo would be shot in the head and left in a vegetative state.
Which was practically the same as dying.
The shooter would be a Black man.
In the end, the police would only identify the shooter—not the mastermind.
But the Colombo family didn't care about evidence.
Internally, they believed Joe Gallo had ordered the attack.
They would swear revenge.
Rumors also suggested that Carlo Gambino had secretly manipulated Gallo.
Layer upon layer of conspiracy.
Like a never-ending nesting doll.
"Rebellion really is the traditional of the Mafia," Luca said with a smile.
And he intended to encourage that tradition.
Luca calmly pinned several rare-card photos onto a blackboard.
"Everyone believes Joe Gallo arranged the shooting of Joe Colombo. Everyone wants him dead."
"He's the perfect scapegoat."
Since so many people already blamed Gallo, the Peace Ambassador wouldn't mind letting him take the blame a few more times.
Eventually, Gallo would pay for all those sins—with his life.
Luca then wrote several words on the blackboard:
Truck Drivers Union Branch President
"You've already ruined Colombo," Luca murmured. "You wouldn't mind ruining another union leader too, right?"
Frank's Trust Skill required the identity of a union branch president.
The Teamsters headquarters was in Washington, D.C., but there were branches across the country, including New York.
However, the New York branch was special.
It wasn't controlled by a single family.
Members from all Five Families were involved.
The largest influences belonged to the Gambino family and the Genovese family.
Mariggio spoke up.
"I have quite a few people inside the New York unions. Thanks to the gasoline tax business, I've also managed to win over several more."
Mariggio controlled a significant portion of the Lucchese family's influence within the New York branch.
"But why are you suddenly asking about this?" Mariggio asked.
"The gasoline tax market in New York is nearly saturated," Luca replied. "If we want to expand, we need to work with unions in other cities."
"I was just thinking… when we expand into New Jersey, besides Philadelphia, which other cities should we choose?"
Luca thought about it for a moment.
The skill requirement only stated "become the president."
It didn't specify which city.
He had subconsciously assumed New York.
But the competition for union leadership in New York was obviously much more intense.
In smaller cities, becoming president would probably be much easier.
As for a gangster becoming a union leader?
That was extremely common.
In places like New York and New Jersey, many union leaders were gangsters.
If others could do it, why couldn't the Peace Ambassador?
After all, even Frank Sheeran, that old assassin, was already a branch leader.
Next, Luca asked Mariggio about the current union power structure.
The national chairman was Frank Fitzsimmons.
Below him, the Genovese family controlled a powerful rare card—a gangster who played a major role within the union.
He wasn't just a branch leader.
He secretly controlled many unions in New York and New Jersey.
The Genovese family.
Luca smiled slowly.
His next target had been decided.
If the Peace Ambassador wanted to become president…
Then someone would have to die.
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