Chapter Four: Returning to One's Place
When I returned to the hospital, the weather outside had changed.
Twelve black Cadillacs were parked in front of the hospital. These weren't ordinary Cadillacs; they were extended, armored limousines with bulletproof windows and bodies capable of withstanding rocket-propelled grenades.
More than fifty men in black suits stood in two neat rows, each wearing a silver badge on their chest—a roaring lion.
Tony stood at the front, saw me, and bowed deeply: "Boss."
I nodded and strode into the hospital.
Bella was still kneeling at the entrance to the recovery room? No—she had stood up and was working with Head Nurse Margaret on Maria's medical records.
"Uncle Dom!" she saw me and ran over. "Mom's awake! The doctor said she'll be fine after two more days of observation!"
"good."
I wanted to pat her head, but I stopped halfway through raising my hand.
I'm wearing this ring right now, so it's not appropriate for me to make such tender gestures.
Bella, however, took my hand and said, "Uncle Dom, the ring on your hand... is very beautiful."
You'll understand its significance later.
“I understand,” Bella said earnestly. “You’re here to protect us, just like my father protected you back then.”
My nose stung with tears, and I didn't say anything.
Just then, the roar of an engine came from outside the hospital.
A dozen or so SUVs roared in and screeched to a halt at the entrance.
Connor got out of the car with his father Patrick and hundreds of thugs.
Patrick O'Brien, the kingpin of Brooklyn's underworld. Standing at 6'9", with a muscular face and an Irish shamrock tattoo on his arm, he leans on a gold-plated cane, wears a bespoke three-piece suit, and has a Cuban cigar in his mouth.
"Who do we have here? Just a bunch of out-of-towners in luxury cars," he sneered, exhaling a smoke ring. "Kid, do you know where you are? Brooklyn, the territory my O'Brien family has been running for thirty years!"
He waved his hand, and more than fifty thugs rushed up wielding baseball bats, iron pipes, and machetes.
Tony and the men in black suits instantly drew their guns.
More than fifty guns were all pointed at each other.
“Get out of the way,” Patrick said.
"Get lost," Tony replied with just one word.
Patrick pulled out his phone: "Burke, bring some men. There's some trouble from out of town."
hang up.
He looked at Tony smugly: "The police will be here soon. Let's see what you do then."
Connor yelled from the side, "Still pretending? When the police come, none of you will get away!"
I walked out of the hospital.
When Connor saw me, he burst into laughter: "Hahaha! So it's you, you stinky driver! You thought you could pull off something just by changing into a suit—"
Smack
I slapped him away.
Connor spun around on the spot, fell to the ground, lost two front teeth, and blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.
The entire room fell silent.
Patrick's face darkened: "You dare hit my son?"
“Hit him? He insulted my brother, this slap is already too lenient on him.”
"Fine! Very well!" Patrick laughed angrily. "Go get them! I'll take responsibility if they kill you!"
More than fifty thugs rushed up.
Tony and the men in black suits pointed their guns at them.
Tensions were high.
At that moment, police sirens sounded.
More than a dozen police cars arrived.
Burke was accompanied by more than thirty police officers, and a bald old man in a judge's robe—Local Court Judge Harvey. Harvey was over seventy years old, with a wrinkled face and wearing reading glasses; he was O'Brien's dog, whom they had kept for twenty years.
Harvey adjusted his glasses and pulled out a document: "According to the court injunction, these vehicles are illegally occupying public space! Sheriff, arrest the ringleader!"
Burke walked triumphantly up to Tony: "Did you hear that? Put down your weapons, put your hands behind your head, and squat down!"
Tony glanced at the judge, then at the sheriff, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips.
"Boss, do you need me to handle this?"
"Let them keep performing."
Patrick became even more smug: "Did you hear that? Boss? Hahaha! A lousy driver dares to call himself boss?"
He walked up to me: "Kid, this is your last chance. Kneel down and apologize to my son, then get out of Brooklyn."
Connor got up from the ground, covering his swollen face: "Dad, don't let him get away with this!"
“Don’t worry,” Patrick patted his son on the shoulder, “Today we’ll make him regret ever being born.”
He turned to Burke: "Sheriff, this man attacked my son, did you see it?"
"I saw it."
Harvey chimed in, "According to New York State law—"
That's enough.
I interrupted them.
Raise your right hand.
The black ring gleamed coldly under the streetlights, its two rubies like the eyes of a lion, coldly watching everyone.
“Tony, show them this ring.”
Tony walked up to Patrick and pointed at the ring on my hand: "Open your dog eyes and look carefully."
Patrick glanced at it dismissively.
His body suddenly stiffened.
The obsidian ring was engraved with a roaring lion—the emblem of the Santoro family.
In New York's underworld, only one person is qualified to wear this ring.
Chairman of the Joint Conference of the Five Families.
Patrick's face turned deathly pale, cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and his legs began to tremble.
"No...impossible...the chairman of the Santoro family retired three years ago..."
"You believe it now?" Tony sneered. "My boss went into hiding for three years to protect his brother's widow and daughter, fulfilling a promise he made to his brother. How dare you blind fools bully them?"
Upon hearing this, Connor's legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground.
"No...this can't be...he's just a lousy driver..."
"Chairman of the Santoro family?" I slowly walked up to Connor. "Do you still think I'm a terrible driver?"
Connor was trembling all over, unable to speak, and his crotch was soaked.
Patrick forced a calm expression: "Even if you're from the Santoro family, this is still Brooklyn! I've been running this place for thirty years—"
"You've been running this business for thirty years?" Tony interrupted him. "Do you even know that the docks, warehouses, and shipping lines in Brooklyn are all owned by the Santoro family? Your O'Brien family is nothing more than a dog we keep."
Patrick's legs started to go weak, and he could no longer hold his cane.
He tried to struggle, pointing at the sheriff and the judge: "We still have the law!"
Burke forced a smile and said, "That's right! No matter who you are, you have to obey the law!"
"The law?" I sneered.
At that moment, Tony heard a sound coming from his headphones.
He listened for a few seconds, then smiled and said, "Boss, the old man's private jet has landed. The entire council of elders from the five major families has been mobilized and will arrive in ten minutes."
No sooner had he finished speaking than the roar of an engine came from afar.
Thirty extended luxury cars slowly drove in.
Each car features a different family crest on its hood:
Santoro – The Roaring Lion
Corleone – The Coiled Black Serpent
Gambino – The Soaring Eagle
Luches - The Burning Flame
Bonanno – Crossed Swords
All five major families were present.
Upon seeing the cars, Patrick's legs went weak, and he knelt down. His gold-inlaid cane fell to the ground, clattering.
Connor was so frightened that he fainted, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the ground, foaming at the mouth.
Burke and Harvey were pale and trembling like leaves.
The door of the first car opened.
An elderly man with a full head of silver hair, wearing a three-piece suit, slowly got off the bus.
He leaned on a gold-inlaid cane, his eyes as majestic as a lion's. Although he was over seventy, his back was straight, his steps steady, and every step carried an undeniable strength.
Vittorio Santoro.
Behind him followed four equally imposing elderly men.
The five people walked into the hospital side by side.
All the gangsters, police, and thugs made way, like Moses parting the Red Sea.
Vittorio walked up to me, looked at me, and a look of heartache flashed in his eyes.
"My child, you've lost weight."
"Old man, you shouldn't have come."
“Silly boy,” Vittorio laughed, his eyes welling up with tears, “If you make one phone call, I’ll crawl all the way to Brooklyn, even if I have to.”
After saying that, he slowly knelt down on one knee.
Amidst everyone's astonished gazes, he grabbed my right hand and respectfully placed a kiss on the ring.
"Welcome home, my chairman."
