Chapter 4
Johnny Russo sat in a concrete visiting room at Metropolitan Detention Center, ankles chained, wrists free only enough to hold a cheap plastic phone.
Five years into a twelve-year federal stretch and the man still looked like he owned the building.
Silver hair combed back. Eyes like wet asphalt.
The kind of calm that made younger soldiers nervous.
Across from him sat his underboss, Vincent “Vinny” Castellano, thick-necked, expensive watch flashing under fluorescent lights, the real day-to-day power while Johnny sat locked up.
“Demario King is out,” Vinny said, voice low. “Early. Quiet. No paperwork trail we can find. He’s already buried three of our boys and took back two corners we thought were settled.”
Johnny’s mouth barely moved. “And the girl?”
“Sofia’s already got her hooks in the new attorney. Clean-cut Black kid. Law degree. Moves money like he’s been doing it his whole life. Name he’s using is Marcus Hale. Real name is Rome King. Demario’s baby brother.”
Johnny’s eyes flickered, interest, not surprise. “Family. Always family with these street niggas.”
Vinny slid a thin folder across the table. Inside were grainy photos: the safe-house exterior (still unidentified), a shot of Keisha leaving a beauty-supply store Demario owned, and a clear image of Rico standing too close to Demario outside a warehouse two weeks earlier.
“There’s more,” Vinny continued. “We had a man inside Demario’s outer circle for almost a year.
Guard named Malik. He was fucking Demario’s woman.
She talked. Locations. Habits. Even the shell companies.
We used that intel for the warehouse hit and the club shooting.
Malik got greedy, tried to play both sides.
We put him in the ground the same night the warehouse went up. ”
Johnny leaned back. The chains rattled softly. “And the woman still breathing?”
“For now. Demario already knows she leaked. Our source inside says he confronted her last night. She’s scrambling. Blaming the snitch, Rico.”
Johnny’s smile was slow and cold. “Good. Let the king start doubting his own bed. Doubt is better than a bullet sometimes.”
He tapped the photo of Sofia.
“My daughter likes the brother. Let her play. I want her close enough to smell the blood when we finally cut the Kings open. But remind her,she’s Russo first. If she catches feelings, I will correct that myself.”
Vinny nodded. “There’s another player. Older crew out of Jersey. The ones Demario wiped after the warehouse hit? They weren’t freelancing. They were paid by us to test his defenses. He answered the test. Now we escalate.”
Johnny’s voice dropped even lower.
“I want three things.
One,find the safe house.
Two, make the woman bleed information or bleed period.
Three, bring me Rome King on a plate. Alive. I want the brother to watch what we do to the king.”
Vinny stood, folder tucked under his arm. “And if Sofia gets too deep?”
Johnny’s eyes were pure ice.
“Then she learns the same lesson every Russo woman learns eventually. Blood over everything.”
Across the city. Sofia Russo sat alone with a glass of wine and a slow smile as she read a new order from her father sitting in her encrypted messages:
Get closer.
Get everything.
Then we burn the kings to the ground.
She lifted the glass, eyes half-lidded.Little did her father know, she had already planned on getting very close. And when the fire started, she intended to be the one holding the match.
Sofia’s penthouse sat high above the city, floor-to-ceiling glass, low lights, the skyline glittering like it belonged to her. She had texted Rome one line only:
over The Door’s unlocked. Don’t make me wait Mr.
When he stepped inside she was already on the long white couch, completely naked, legs spread wide, one foot planted on the cushion, the other dangling off the edge.
Two fingers were buried deep in her pussy, shiny and wet, working in slow, filthy circles.
Her clit was swollen and slick under her thumb.
She didn’t stop when the door clicked shut.
“Hurry up, Mr. Lawyer,” she purred, voice thick with heat. “I’ve been playing with this wet little cunt for twenty minutes waiting on you. Come fuck me before I finish without you.”
Rome locked the door behind him. His eyes stayed on the way her fingers disappeared inside herself, the soft wet sounds filling the quiet room. She pulled them out, strings of cream stretching between her knuckles, and licked them slow while staring straight at him.
“You like watching me ruin my own pussy?” she asked, voice pure sin. “Or you finally ready to do it yourself?”
She was in control and she knew it. Legs open like an invitation and a dare. Nipples hard. Pussy glistening under the city lights. She crooked a finger at him.
“Clothes off. Now. I want that big Black dick stretching me open.”
Rome stripped without a word. When his dick sprang free, thick, long, heavy, veins pulsing,Sofia’s eyes darkened with pure greed. She kept fingering herself faster, hips rolling up to meet her own hand.
“Jesus… that thing is going to rearrange my guts.” She laughed, low and breathless. “Good. Come here and ruin me.”
Rome grabbed her ankles, yanked her to the edge of the couch, and dropped to his knees. He shoved her fingers out of the way and buried his face in her pussy, tongue flat and greedy, sucking her clit hard while two thick fingers punched inside her. Sofia’s back arched hard.
“Fuck, yes, eat that shit,”
He didn’t ease her into it. He tongue-fucked her nasty, loud, wet, until her thighs shook and she was grinding on his face like a slut in heat. When he stood and lined that fat BBC up with her hole, she was already dripping down her ass crack.
He slammed in to the hilt in one stroke and a scream tumbled out of her mouth.
The stretch was brutal. His dick forced her open, thick head punching past her g-spot, balls heavy against her ass.
She tried to push him back for a second, too full, too deep, but Rome pinned her thighs wide and started fucking her in long, punishing strokes.
“Take it,” he growled. “This is what a real dick feels like.”
He fucked her through the burn until her pussy started creaming around him, wet sounds echoing off the glass. Then he pulled out, flipped her onto all fours, and dragged her to the floor-to-ceiling window. City lights painted her bare back and the curve of her ass in silver.
Rome shoved back inside from behind and started slamming into her.Hard. Deep. Nasty.
The slap of skin on skin filled the penthouse. Sofia’s tits swung under her with every thrust. He fisted a handful of her hair and yanked her head up so she was staring out at the skyline while he destroyed her pussy.
“Look at the city while I stretch this tight little Italian cunt,” he snarled, hips snapping. “You wanted this big Black dick, now take every inch.”
Sofia was moaning like a whore, pushing back to meet every stroke, juices running down her thighs. “Fuck me harder, god, your dick is so fucking thick,”
Rome reached around, found her phone on the side table where she’d left it, and unlocked it with the code he’d watched her type at the first meeting. One-handed, still pounding her, he scrolled until the encrypted message from Johnny Russo lit up the screen.
Get closer.
Get everything.
Then we burn the kings to the ground
He dropped the phone on the floor in front of her face so she could see it while he fucked her. Then he wrapped his big hand around her throat from behind, pulled her neck up hard, and slammed into her even deeper.
“You’re gonna work for me now,” he said against her ear, voice low and lethal, dick punching her G-Spot with every stroke. “Or I snap this pretty neck while I’m still buried in this dripping pussy. Your choice.”
Sofia laughed. The sound was breathless, dangerous, and dripping with arousal. She clenched around him deliberately, milking his dick.
“You think threatening me while you stretch my pussy is going to scare me, lawyer?” she panted, voice pure filth. “Look at me. I’m soaking you up while you talk about killing me. Snap it if you want… but first make me squirt on this big Black dick like the nasty bitch I am.”
Rome’s hand tightened on her throat. He fucked her harder, brutal, relentless, balls smacking her clit with every thrust. The wet, filthy sound of her pussy taking him filled the room as Sofia’s eyes rolled back.
“Oh fuck-right —here—don’t stop,”
He angled deeper, grinding against her front wall, and she shattered, cumming with a broken scream, pussy clamping down like a fist. A hard gush of squirt erupted around his dick, spraying his thighs, the window, the floor in hot, clear pulses.
She kept squirting as he slammed through it, body convulsing, juices running down her legs in shiny rivers while her walls fluttered and milked him.
Rome didn’t stop, he kept fucking her through the aftershocks, hand still around her throat, using her like he owned her, until her arms gave out and she collapsed onto her elbows, ass still high, taking every thick inch.
Only then did he bury himself to the hilt and unload, thick, heavy ropes flooding her pussy, overflowing around his dick and dripping down her thighs onto the hardwood.
He stayed deep, breathing hard, hand still on her neck.
Sofia turned her head just enough to look at him over her shoulder, lips swollen, eyes dark with something that wasn’t fear.
“You just made the Russo princess squirt” she whispered, voice raw and seductive. “Careful, Mr. Lawyer… I might start liking you.”