Share
MidReal Story
The Last Boss
Scenario:Título: El Último Capo
Sinopsis:
Después de pasar 15 años en prisión sin delatar a nadie, John "Johnny" Castellano, un veterano capo de la mafia neoyorquina, regresa a las calles esperando la lealtad y la recompensa de su familia criminal. En su tiempo, fue un hombre de respeto, un soldado fiel que se mantuvo firme ante la ley y ante sus enemigos. Sin embargo, el mundo que dejó atrás ha cambiado de manera irreversible.
Su viejo amigo y jefe, Vincent "Vince" Moretti, ha envejecido y ahora solo es un líder en la sombra. El verdadero poder lo tiene su hijo, Anthony Moretti, un joven ambicioso, implacable y modernista, que no ve a Johnny como un activo, sino como un problema. Para Anthony, Johnny es un vestigio de una mafia anticuada, un hombre sin lugar en la organización que ha reestructurado con nuevas alianzas, lavado de dinero digital y una brutalidad sin concesiones.
Esperando recuperar su lugar, Johnny se enfrenta a una dura realidad: ya no es bienvenido en su propio hogar. Su reputación es su única moneda de cambio, pero en un mundo donde los valores han cambiado y la lealtad se ha vuelto un lujo, eso no es suficiente.
Arrinconado y con pocos aliados, Johnny toma una decisión drástica: irse de Nueva York y comenzar de nuevo en otro estado, lejos de la influencia de los Moretti, donde pueda levantar su propio imperio criminal desde las cenizas.
Con el instinto de un viejo lobo y la experiencia de un veterano, se traslada a Chicago, donde la mafia tradicional aún existe, pero está debilitada por las pandillas emergentes y el narcotráfico. Johnny empieza reclutando a exconvictos, viejos conocidos y nuevos talentos: hackers, exmilitares, traficantes de armas y jóvenes hambrientos de poder.
Pero levantar un imperio no es fácil. Johnny deberá enfrentarse a carteles de la droga, mafias locales, la corrupción policial y las traiciones internas, mientras evita que los Moretti lo eliminen antes de que su ascenso se vuelva una amenaza real.
¿Podrá Johnny sobrevivir en un mundo que ha cambiado? ¿O será solo otro vestigio del pasado condenado a desaparecer?
"El Último Capo" es una historia de poder, venganza y redención en la era moderna del crimen organizado.
Escribir una novela en base a esta sinopsis en aproximadamente 100 páginas
Create my version of this story
John Castellano
determined, and strategic. After 15 years in prison, he returns to find his world changed and his loyalty unappreciated. He faces betrayal from his former boss's son, Anthony Moretti, and decides to leave New York to start anew in Chicago. There, he builds a new criminal empire by recruiting exconvicts and other skilled individuals.
Anthony Moretti
cunning, and merciless. Believing John Castellano is a relic of the past, he sees him as a threat to his power and orchestrates his downfall. Anthony modernizes the mafia with digital money laundering and brutal tactics.
Lorenzo "Loren" Moretti
loyal, and naive. Despite being part of the family business, he struggles with its moral implications and feels trapped by his family's expectations.
I was in prison for fifteen years without betraying anyone.
When I got out, no one came to meet me.
I was a veteran boss of the New York mafia.
A man of respect.
A faithful soldier who stood firm against the law and against his enemies.
In my time, we were men of honor.
We had a code.
Loyalty above all else.
But times change, and I changed with them.
Or at least I tried to.
The world I left behind had changed irreversibly.
My old friend and boss, Vincent Moretti, was now a shadow of his former self.
His age had weakened him, and he was no longer the leader he once was.
His son, Anthony, now held the power and was a different type of man altogether.
Cold, calculating, and ruthless in his pursuit of wealth and power.
He saw me not as an asset to be used but as a problem to be eliminated.
A relic of an outdated mafia, a man with no place in the new order he had created.
A world of digital money laundering and ruthless elimination of any threat.
Where loyalty was a luxury that few could afford.
My reputation was all I had, and it was not enough to save me with Anthony.
I walked into Moretti's Social Club on Mulberry Street, my shoes clicking against the worn floorboards.
The place was empty except for two young soldiers playing cards at a table, their phones face-up in front of them.
They barely looked up as I passed.
Through the beaded curtain, I could see Anthony in his office, hunched over a laptop.
A muscled kid with a neck tattoo stood guard outside the door, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.
"Where you going?" he asked, trying to block my path.
I shoved past him and pushed open the door.
Anthony didn't flinch as I slammed my palms down on his desk, sending some papers flying to the floor.
He kept typing, making me wait until he was finished before finally looking up.
His eyes were cold and calculating, like a snake sizing up its prey.
I took in his office.
It was sleek and modern, with large monitors displaying cryptocurrency charts and surveillance feeds.
Nothing like the warm wood-paneled sanctuary it had been when Vincent was in charge.
The walls were now painted a cold grey, and the floor was polished marble.
The place felt more like a high-tech laboratory than a mafia headquarters.
Anthony leaned back in his ergonomic chair, studying me like I was a museum piece.
He wore a custom suit and tie, his beard perfectly trimmed to show off his sharp jawline.
New money.
He was a far cry from the rough-around-the-edges capo that I had been.
"Work together?" he repeated, smirking as he gestured at the empty chair across from his desk.
I sat down, my weathered leather jacket creaking against the chrome frame.
"You think I need you, old man?" Anthony said, leaning back in his chair with a dismissive wave.
"I know things you can't learn from a screen, Anthony," I replied, my voice steady but firm.
"Maybe, but your kind of knowledge comes with a price I'm not willing to pay," he shot back, eyes narrowing.
I rested my hands on the edge of his glass desk, my knuckles worn and weathered against the pristine surface.
The air was thick with the scent of cologne and stale cigarettes.
The blue LED lights that lined the walls cast an eerie glow over everything, and the humming of servers in the corner created a constant buzz of tension.
I leaned back in my chair, trying to appear more relaxed than I felt.
"I used to run protection rackets for your father," I said, my voice even.
"We could do something similar. You could use your digital money laundering scheme to make it look like they're paying us voluntarily. Then we could use some old-school muscle to make sure they comply."
He stopped typing, his fingers hovering above the keyboard as he considered my words.
His eyes narrowed as he studied me, then he nodded once.
"I like it," he said, his voice low and calculating.
"But how do we get them to join?"
I shrugged, nonchalantly.
"We strong-arm them until they do. Then we make sure they stay in line by using your cryptocurrency payment system. It's a win-win. They get protection from us, and we get legitimacy from them. Plus, it makes it harder for the feds to track our money." He nodded again, fingers flying across the keyboard as he typed out a message.
I glanced down at his hands, noticing that he was texting under the desk.
Probably alerting his guards that I was here.
I shifted subtly in my seat, making it easier for me to get up and move towards the door if things went south.
"Let me know when you're ready to start," I said, standing up and looking down at him.
Anthony's eyes flicked up towards mine, narrowing as he took in my position.
For a moment, I thought he might try something stupid.
But then he gave a subtle nod, his fingers continuing to tap out a message on his phone.
I turned and walked out of the office, passing by the two guards who were now standing in front of the door.
They moved aside as I passed, their hands resting on the grips of their guns.
I could feel Anthony's eyes on me as I left, but I didn't look back.
I knew that he was just waiting for an excuse to get rid of me.
And I wasn't going to give him one.
I leaned back in my chair, watching as Anthony's fingers tapped methodically against the glass desk.
The LED lights that lined the walls cast harsh shadows across his face, making him look like a cold-blooded killer.
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls of his office, I could see two of his guards shifting positions outside.
Their hands moved towards their jackets, and I knew they were ready to move at a moment's notice. Anthony rose slowly from his chair, straightening his designer tie before walking over to his private bar.
He poured two glasses of scotch and set one down in front of me.
The amber liquid sat untouched as he returned to his seat, his movements deliberate and controlled.
For a long time, he said nothing, simply staring at me with cold eyes.
Finally, he spoke, his voice measured and calculated.
"I've been thinking about what you said," he said, his gaze boring into mine.
"About working together."
I lifted the crystal tumbler, studying the liquid as the blue LED lights reflected off of it.
The scotch was expensive, but I knew better than to drink anything that Anthony gave me.
My instincts were screaming at me to be careful, and I had learned long ago to listen to them.
I glanced up at him, watching as he sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers together.
His manicured nails caught the light, and for a moment I thought he looked like a damn girl.
But then his eyes flicked towards the guards outside, and I saw the cold calculation in their depths.
He was dangerous, and I knew better than to underestimate him.
I glanced around the office, taking in the security cameras that were mounted in each corner of the ceiling.
They would record every word we said, and every move we made.
The guards outside would be watching too, waiting for any sign of trouble. Anthony's eyes flicked towards mine, his gaze cold and calculating.
"I want you to drink first," he said, his voice measured.
"I want to make sure you're not poisoning me."
I lifted the glass to my lips, feeling the weight of the crystal against my fingers.
I took a small sip, letting the scotch burn down my throat before setting it back down on the desk.
Anthony watched me intently, his eyes never leaving mine as he lifted his own glass and took a sip.
I knew what he was doing - he was trying to see if I would flinch when I drank it.
It was an old trick that I had seen before, and I wasn't falling for it.
I smiled slightly as I set my glass down, pretending like everything was fine.
Anthony's phone buzzed suddenly, breaking the silence in the room.
He glanced down at it quickly before looking back up at me.
"I have to take this," he said curtly, lifting the phone to his ear. As soon as he turned away from me, I quickly reached forward and emptied my glass into a nearby potted plant.
Anthony ended the call, his expression unreadable as he turned back to me.
"You know," he began, his voice low and dangerous, "my father always said you were the only one he trusted with his life."
I leaned forward slightly, meeting his gaze. "And yet here we are, testing each other like strangers."
I leaned back in the sleek office chair, my eyes never leaving his.
The scotch sat heavy in my stomach, but I knew better than to let it show.
Anthony's words hung in the air, and I knew what he was doing.
He was trying to see how far he could push me before I snapped.
I glanced out the window, watching as the sun began to set over the city.
The sky was ablaze with color, oranges and reds and purples that seemed to bleed into one another.
For a moment, I felt a pang of nostalgia.
This was what I had been fighting for all these years - this view, this power.
But as I turned back to Anthony, I knew that things were different now.
His eyes flicked towards the guards outside, their hands still resting on their guns.
I knew that he would use them if he felt threatened in any way, and I also knew that they would follow his orders without question.
The guards were loyal only to Anthony, and they would stop at nothing to protect him. Anthony leaned forward again, his elbows resting on the glass desk.
"Listen," he said quietly, "I'm not going to beat around the bush. I need your help."
He paused, studying me intently as he continued.
"I have a territory in Queens that needs some attention. The owner is getting old, and he can't handle it like he used to. I want you to go down there and see what you can do with it."
I nodded slowly, considering his words as I glanced around the room.
The guards outside shifted positions again, their hands moving towards their guns once more.
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls of Anthony's office, I could see them watching me intently.
Their hands were always on their guns, ready to move at a moment's notice.
Anthony's phone buzzed again, but this time he ignored it.
His eyes stayed locked on mine as he continued speaking.
"I want you to take over that territory," he said quietly.
"I want you to run it for me."
I leaned forward slightly, my eyes flicking towards the guards as I considered his words. "What do you think?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking through the silence of the room.
I glanced back at him, meeting his gaze intently.
"I think you're offering me a small territory," I said slowly.
"I think you don't trust me enough yet to give me anything bigger."
Anthony's lips curled into a thin smile, and I knew I'd hit the mark.
I stood from my chair, buttoning my jacket as I glanced towards the guards.
The offer of a territory in Queens was a trap, but I knew I had to play along.
I turned back to Anthony, watching as he scribbled something on the back of a business card.
"Meet my lieutenant here," he said, handing it to me.
"He'll show you around tomorrow at noon."
I took the card, feeling the smooth metal beneath my fingers.
It was printed on some kind of metal material instead of paper, and it felt modern and expensive in my hand.
I glanced down at the address, which was in Astoria, Queens.
I nodded curtly as I slipped the card into my pocket.
As I walked out of the office, I could feel the security cameras tracking my every move.
Anthony's voice stopped me at the door. "Don't disappoint me, Johnny," he said quietly.
I paused for a moment, then walked out without looking back.
I drove through the crowded streets of Astoria, scanning the cars around me for any sign of surveillance.
I had a feeling that Anthony would be watching my every move, and I didn't want to give him any reason to suspect me.
I parked my car two blocks away from the address on the card, then walked the rest of the way.
Astoria was a busy neighborhood, with Greek restaurants and small shops lining the streets.
I glanced around as I walked, taking in the possible escape routes and hiding spots.
The address on the card led me to Mike's Auto Shop, a rundown garage with graffiti covering the walls.
The windows were grimy, but I could see three men inside.
One was dressed in a suit, and I knew he had to be Anthony's lieutenant.
The other two were muscular guys in mechanic uniforms, standing suspiciously close to toolboxes that were probably filled with guns.
Instead of walking into the garage, I positioned myself at a coffee shop across the street.
I ordered a black coffee, keeping my eyes on the garage as I waited.
The suited man stepped outside, lighting a cigarette as he scanned the street.
He spotted me and smirked, raising the cigarette to his lips.
I gripped my coffee cup tightly, studying the lieutenant's expression.
The afternoon traffic crawled by, and I knew that I had to make a decision.
Two customers walked into the garage, but the mechanics ignored them.
They stayed near the toolboxes, their eyes still locked on me across the street.
The lieutenant finished his cigarette, crushing it under his shoe as he kept his eyes on me.
My coffee grew cold as I weighed my options.
I could walk away and try to come back later, or I could fall into the trap that Anthony had set for me.
Finally, I stood from my seat, leaving a five-dollar bill on the table.
I pushed through the diner's door, hearing the bell above it ring out.