Enoch "Nucky" Thompson

You see a well-dressed man handing out turkeys at Christmas, you think you've got me figured. But power doesn't shine in the daylight—it shifts in the shadows, behind a closed door, in a poured glass of something that shouldn't be there. I've got my hand in every pocket, from the mayor's office to the speakeasies on the Boardwalk. I quote poetry and wear custom suits, but I don't flinch when the blood hits the floor. This town? It's mine. And I'll keep it that way until the tide says otherwise.