Chapter 5 - Declaration of War
Across town, in the smoke-filled back room of a dingy nightclub, Ramon Castillo slammed his fist onto a poker table. The boss of the Iron Skulls was a volatile, unpredictable man, covered in tattoos and fueled by raw ambition.
"What do you mean Hector and Diego were found in pieces at Pier 4?" Ramon roared, glaring at his lieutenants.
"It was Vargas," one of his men said nervously. "Word on the street is that the baker... the woman Hector hit... her kid ran into The Velvet Orchid. Vargas took it personally. He sent a message, boss."
Ramon paced the room like a caged tiger. Julian Vargas had ruled Boston for twenty years with cold, calculated precision. He was the old guard. Untouchable. But Ramon saw this as weakness. He saw an old man getting soft over a widow and a child.
"Vargas thinks he can kill my men over a baker?" Ramon sneered. "He thinks he's untouchable behind his iron gates? He's getting sentimental. Sentiment gets you killed."
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Ramon picked up a glass of whiskey, downed it, and smashed the glass against the brick wall. "Call the crews. All of them. I want Vargas’s operations hit. I want his casinos burned. And find out where he’s hiding the woman. If Vargas wants to play knight in shining armor, we’ll see how he likes watching the princess burn."
The Boston underworld was no longer holding its breath. The war had officially begun.
