After dealing with Joe Gallo's troubles, the next few days passed peacefully until the day of the mass rally arrived.
Pro kept his promise and opened several cities in New Jersey to Luca's gasoline company, allowing local gas stations to begin operating. Truck drivers traveled constantly between New York City and New Jersey, allowing the gasoline-tax business to spread quickly.
However, Pro was secretly investigating the true nature of the gasoline tax business. He questioned truck drivers privately, asking whether Luca's gasoline had been tampered with or diluted in order to produce inferior fuel and make extra profit.
Seeing his "curiosity," Luca casually revealed some information about the business the night before the public rally. He mentioned that his weekly profits from only two boroughs of New York City had already reached seven figures.
This deliberately casual revelation instantly made Pro's eyes turn green with envy.
This business was insanely profitable.
A single week of his work equals several months of mine.
We absolutely have to get involved!
Luca didn't refuse.
"When the business expands into New Jersey, we can cooperate more closely. New Jersey is such a massive market with thousands of gas stations. Pro, just wait and see how much money you'll make."
The two sides quickly reached a very pleasant cooperation agreement.
Faced with Luca's enthusiasm, Pro was delighted and their relationship rose to the superficial level of "friends."
For someone greedy like him, however, relationships that could be bought with money were not worth Luca investing real effort into cultivating.
That evening, after leaving the club, they had barely driven a few blocks when Pro excitedly began talking with Frank Fitzsimmons about the gasoline-tax business.
"Fitz! This is a golden opportunity to get rich. We absolutely have to take over the Dove's business!"
Everyone else was trying to take a small slice of the pie.
But Pro was talking about stealing the entire bakery.
Fitz spoke with some difficulty.
"That Dove guy… he's not exactly soft-hearted."
"I don't care about New York," Pro sneered, "but in New Jersey, on my territory, I must dominate the gas-station business."
"Only by controlling the truck drivers do we truly hold power."
"Anyone can open a gas station. Anyone can register a gasoline company."
"But without tanker-truck drivers, nobody can run this business."
"Fitz, our union is the key!"
Fitz didn't want to offend anyone, so he lowered his voice.
"We can do whatever we want, but it's best not to block the Dove's path. He's already willing to share the opportunity with us."
"Of course we'll leave him a little soup," Pro said with a careless wave of his hand. "I'm not heartless."
"But a business this big can't possibly be managed by the Dove and Mariggio alone. It needs a senior like me to take charge."
Fitz said nothing.
---
The Next Day, Early November.
Lincoln Center, New York.
The mass rally that the entire city had been watching finally arrived.
For Italians, it was a celebration.
For the authorities, it was a massive headache.
Early in the morning, David Mills and John McClane arrived with their colleagues to set up security measures.
With gangsters and civilians mixed together, anything could happen.
Their orders were clear: prevent riots at all costs, and suppress gang members with force if necessary.
"Did you enjoy your trip with your wife and kids?" David asked with a smile.
Since the reconciliation incident earlier, McClane had taken several days off to spend time with his family and had only returned to work the day before.
"Not bad," McClane chuckled. "We went to Miami. The weather there is warm—much nicer than New York."
"I envy you," David sighed.
His wife was pregnant, so they hadn't traveled for quite some time.
The two walked around the venue while keeping a close watch on the surroundings.
"What exactly is the Mafia trying to do?" David muttered while observing the lively crowd.
"They've made such a huge scene and attracted so many civilians. Are they planning to run for office?"
"It's hard to imagine what New York would look like if Joe Colombo really became a congressman."
"He has many supporters," McClane replied. "If he actually ran, he might have a real chance."
David looked toward the stage in the distance.
The rally hadn't begun yet.
But soon a "leader" would appear there.
"What if it were the Dove?" David joked. "He's also in the Mafia and could run for office."
"No one is perfect," McClane said while shaking his head.
"But if a Mafia member had to take power, I'd rather it be the Dove."
"He's definitely better than Colombo."
David silently agreed.
If that day ever came, the Dove would certainly be the better choice.
While the two continued patrolling, a Black photographer carrying a camera swaggered past them and entered the bustling rally area.
The venue was filled with sponsor advertisements and supplier banners.
Reporters from various media outlets set up cameras to record the historic moment.
Celebrating Italians marched through the streets holding banners while shouting proudly about their heritage.
One Mafia leader after another arrived.
Many were Colombo's allies—gang leaders, underbosses from the Colombo crime family, the underboss of the Gambino crime family, Pro from the Genovese crime family, and the boss of the Bufalino crime family.
However, few true bosses from New York families appeared.
Many older Mafia leaders disliked flashy public events.
They preferred to remain hidden in the shadows.
They wouldn't appear here—but they would attend the private banquet later.
"Ah… so many familiar faces."
Inside a black sedan parked nearby, Luca watched the stage through binoculars.
He even spotted the mastermind behind the gasoline-tax business in the original timeline—Michael Franzese.
The man was still young and fresh-faced.
He hadn't even taken the blood oath to join the Colombo family yet.
But thanks to his father's status as underboss, he already had strong connections with many Mafia members.
A true second-generation gangster kid.
Luca smiled faintly.
This man would later become one of the most profitable Mafia bosses in history.
Unfortunately for him, Luca had already taken the gasoline-tax business.
That opportunity would never exist again.
Without the gasoline-tax scheme…
Would Franzese still go to prison for betrayal?
Or would he find another way to make money?
Would he still one day appear online sharing Mafia stories with curious netizens?
(TN: Fun fact, He is also a youtuber, you could check his Youtube Channel)
"Jimmy, let's head back to the club," Luca said to the driver.
"We still need to entertain our guests."
Many gang leaders had chosen to hold their banquets at SSR Club that day.
The decision came from the Lucchese family boss and was approved by Carlo Gambino.
Many gangsters believed the club was a peaceful place where they could relax, chat, and drink.
Today the SSR Club was closed to the public.
It was reserved entirely for Mafia members.
Carlo Gambino rarely appeared in public anymore.
But today he entered the club accompanied by bodyguards and Boss of Luchesse family, Victor Amuso.
The moment he stepped inside, Gambino felt the calm atmosphere of the club.
Even his failing heart seemed to relax.
Victor helped him walk slowly.
"See? Isn't this place better for retirement than your house?"
"Not bad," Gambino laughed. "Why not give it to me? I'll trade you an estate."
"It isn't mine," Victor replied. "It belongs to Luca the Dove. He's a member of my family."
"Luca? I know him. Bring him here later."
Gambino had already heard about Luca.
Especially the incident involving John Gotti.
---
The group entered the banquet hall.
A giant screen inside broadcast the rally live.
Every Mafia member present—regardless of rank—showed respect when Gambino passed.
Other mobsters had nicknames like Anthony "Fat Tony" Salerno, Joey "Skinny" or the Boss of Genovese family, Vincent "The Chin" Gigante.
But Gambino had only one title.
Don.
When Luca arrived at the club and heard Gambino wanted to meet him, he was surprised.
Opinions about Gambino were mixed.
But nobody denied the achievements and glory he brought to his family.
Even someone as crazy as Joe Gallo respected him.
Luca knew Gambino barely appeared in most movie plots.
Usually he was just a background figure.
He also knew Gambino would die "peacefully" from heart failure rather than in prison—a rare fate for a Mafia boss.
Even without cameras or skills involved, Luca still had to meet this legendary godfather out of respect.
As Luca entered the hall, many Mafia members greeted him warmly.
Even the wives and sisters of several mobsters looked at the extremely handsome young man with admiration.
---
Under everyone's gaze, Luca walked to the innermost table and stood before Gambino.
"Mr. Gambino, it's my honor that you attended the banquet at SSR Club."
Looking at Luca's youthful face, Gambino set down his glass and nodded gently.
"Sit down, Luca."
Many people were surprised.
Very few people ever sat at the same table as the Godfather.
Victor smiled quietly while watching Luca sit across from Gambino.
Their conversation was not dramatic.
Instead, it revolved around ordinary family matters.
Gambino sipped wine while asking Luca about his daily life.
He never mentioned gang conspiracies.
He didn't mention the dead John Gotti either.
Luca couldn't figure out what Gambino truly wanted.
"Luca, are you a member of the Civil Rights League?"
"No."
"Oh. I thought you'd wear their little alliance badge."
Gambino looked at the screen.
Colombo had begun speaking on stage.
"You always defend peace and help others resolve conflicts."
"In some ways, your ideals resemble Colombo's."
The Italian-American Civil Rights League united Italians to fight discrimination and demand equal rights.
Colombo's influence had become unprecedented.
He stepped into the spotlight and revealed many Mafia secrets to gain public trust.
He had become a leader of Italians in America.
"Do you know why he does that?" Gambino asked.
His deep eyes seemed to see through everything.
At that moment Luca felt Gambino was not only talking about Colombo.
He was also questioning him.
Why do you defend peace?
The room seemed to grow quiet.
From the broadcast, Colombo's voice echoed.
"I thank God! I am proud of my Italian heritage!"
He accused the Federal Bureau of Investigation of spreading the word "Mafia" to hide their investigative failures.
He claimed the term smeared all Italian Americans.
Films, television, and news linking Italians to crime must stop.
Such stereotypes insulted their dignity.
The federal government excluded Italians from public office.
They must fight for equal employment rights.
Colombo celebrated unity.
Many guests in the banquet hall watched the speech.
Gambino slowly sipped his wine.
Luca looked at the old godfather.
Gambino smiled faintly.
"A leader must transform his own desires into the desires of the people."
"For an individual, his desires may seem dirty and selfish."
"But once they become the desires of the collective…"
"They appear noble and righteous."
"Luca, I hope you bring peace to more places."
Gambino raised his glass.
His smile held deeper meaning.
Luca nodded respectfully.
"I will remember your advice."
---
BANG!
A deafening gunshot echoed across the crowded square.
Joe Colombo, former Mafia leader and head of the Civil Rights League—
was shot in the head.
Blood splattered across the League's emblem.
======================================================================
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Tomorrow is my usual day off. Peace out.