It had not been painless.

Three months into the transition, on a cold night, two of my former lieutenants had come to my residence to demand an explanation — to ask why I was walking away from the revenue the organization still represented, why I would surrender territory men had bled for.

Once, I would have answered such a question with force.

I did not.

I did not reach for a weapon or raise my voice or make a single threat.

I handed them the keys to our former docks, signed over the territory they were asking about, and told them it was theirs and that I wished them better luck with it than I’d had.