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ALESSIO POV

“Ahh fuck! Yes……oh my god, Allesino! Yes daddy.” Sofia moaned, as she pushed her ass further against me, inviting me to thrust in deeper, while grabbing the silk sheets.

I pulled my dick out, my jaw locked so tight, that my teeth hurt. Who the fuck gave her the right to call out my name?

Sofia knew she’d crossed her boundaries, she knelt down quickly, her hands stretched forward pleading. “Please…..please. I’m sorry for calling your name out loud.”

I walked towards the sofa, where my pistol was placed, ready to blow her fucking brains off.

Sofia’s hands shot out grabbing my legs. “Don’t – please, I’ll do anything!”

My name in her mouth felt wrong.

The last woman who said it was dead. I buried her myself. This bitch don’t get to use it. Not her. Not ever.

She took a quick glance at the closed door, like she was expecting a savior from no where to help her out. The sight of her helplessness excited me.

She crawled as her knees gave out, “Do anything you wish to do to me, but please dont unmake me, Mio Re!”

“You don’t get to use my name.” My voice was hoarse and firm, pressing the cold gun to her cheek. “Clients don’t call my name. Whores like you don’t call my name.”

Her tears came hot and fast. Not the cute ones. The ugly, annoying kind. “Anything,” she whispered, “I’ll do anything. Just let me breath. Let me keep breathing for you.”

My thumb smeared a tear, then I pushed it into her mouth. “Anything?” I repeated. “You’d beg on your knees for any man who pulled out of you?”

She sucked my thumb, desperate, but certain. “Just you, Mio Re. Only you. I’d never known any other name except yours and I wasn’t suppose to say it.”

My gaze dropped to her mouth, where she was still wet, opened and ruined for me.

I threw the pistol on the bed and took a step back. “Clean yourself up.”

Sofia let out a big sigh of relief, until I added, “then get back on your knees. You called me by my name, Sofia. Now you’re going to earn the right never to say it again. With my cock in your throat, until you choke on it. Understood?”

She nodded, shaking. “Yes, Mio Re.”

“Good girl.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, spreading my legs as I beckoned with one finger. “Now crawl. And if you forget who owns you. This time, I won’t stop at pulling out.”

As she crawled, her knees hurt on the cold floor. Her hands shook.

“Open!”

She did. Her lips parted, shaking.

I fisted her hair at the scalp. No softness. No warning. Yanked her head back and shoved in deep. She gagged. Choked. Her nails dug into my thighs and I knocked her hands off.

I thrust again. Hard. Her eyes went wide. Water spilled down her cheeks, spit trailing from her lips when I pulled back just enough to let her breathe. Then I hit the back of her throat again.

Again.

Again.

Each time she made a sound, I gave her more. Not sex. Punishment.

“Look at me.”

She did. Eyes red, streaming, begging.

Good. I wanted her to see who owned her now.

I held her hair tighter. “You’re mine. Say it!”

She mumbled while choking on my cock.

“Louder.” I pulled out just enough for her to breathe.

“Im yours, Mio Re! I’m fucking yours.”

I slammed her head back in and didn’t care as she gagged. Then the door burst open.

“Don!” Pedro’s voice interrupted. “We’ve got a problem.”

I didn’t bother to look at the door. “Get out!”

The man froze. “But –”

“OUT”

The door slammed shut.

I looked down at Sofia. Her face was wet wirh my cum, her lips trembling.

I wiped my thumb across her busted lips. “We’re not done. He just bought you a minute to breathe.”

# # #

I pushed the office door open, and Vittorio stood before me, sixty two, hard guy, face blank, silver hair always slicked back.

A towel dangled from his hands. He was trying to wrap it around my naked waist, but his fingers wasn’t fast enough. Age made him clumpsy.

He’d been wirh my father before me. Buried bodies for him. Poured my first scotch when I was sixteen. His skin was pale, slack wirh age, but his eyes were the same. Loyal.

“Don Alessino,” he said, voice steady.

“Vittorio.” I keep my voice flat. Didn’t ask why he was in my office. Dons don’t ask why. They wait

Pedro leaned against the far wall. Big arms crossed over his chest. Tattoo on his neck. He was chewing gum. Slow. Loud. It was the only thing that showed he was mad.

Alexandro was new. Young. Maybe twenty-five. He stood in the middle of the room and couldn’t stay still. He kept touching the gun under his jacket. Touching it, then pulling his hand away. Touching it again. Nervous.

We’d lost money tonight. Bad. And it was my job to fix it.

“They hit the docks at ten,” Pedro said. He stopped chewing. “Our guys were unloading the second truck. Then the Rossi clan showed up. Ten men. Guns out.”

Alexandro nodded fast. “Then the cops came. Five minutes later. Lights, sirens, everything. Someone called them. Someone told them we’d be there.”

I picked up my glass from the desk. Whiskey. I didn’t drink it yet. I just held it. “How much?” I asked. My voice was low. When I talk low, men listen.

Vittorio answered. He always knew the numbers. “Two million, Don. Gone. Product and cash both. Cops took it.”

Two million. Gone. I could feel Pedro and Alexandro looking at me. Waiting to see if I’d break something. I didn’t. I rolled the glass between my hands instead.

“Money can be made,” I said. “That’s not the problem.”

Vittorio’s eyes met mine. He was old, but his eyes were still sharp. “No, Don. The problem is why they were there.”

Pedro pushed off the wall. He walked two steps closer. “Rossi wasn’t there for the drugs. That was just a bonus for them. They were looking for someone.”

I finally took a drink. The whiskey burned. Good. “Who?”

“A woman,” Pedro said.

My hand stopped. Glass halfway to my mouth. The room went quiet. Even the clock sounded louder.

Alexandro spoke. He was too eager. “Yeah. That’s what our guy at the docks said. Rossi’s men were shouting. Tearing open crates. They didn’t care about the product. They kept asking where she was.”

Vittorio said nothing. But I saw his jaw move. Just a little. He was thinking. He was always thinking.

“A woman,” I repeated. The word felt heavy in my mouth. “On my docks. In the middle of my sale. And Rossi burns it all down for her?”

Pedro nodded. “That’s what it looks like. Word on the street is she’s been hiding for years. Rossi wants her bad. Real bad. They think she’s in our area now.”

“Name.” I needed a name. A name meant I could find her. Hurt her. Use her.

Alexandro shook his head. “Don’t have one. No name, no picture. Just... young. Dark hair, they said. And get this—” He laughed a little, but it died fast when I looked at him. “They said she was dead. That she died years ago. But she’s not. She’s alive.”

Dead. But not.

The air in my lungs went cold.

For five years, there was only one dead woman I thought about. Only one I saw when I closed my eyes. Only one I’d buried myself, in a way.

I set the glass down. Slow. Careful. If I wasn’t careful, I’d crush it.

I stood up. My chair made a loud noise on the wood floor.

“Find her,” I said. My voice didn’t shake. It never shakes. “I don’t care what it costs. I don’t care how many Rossi men you have to break. Find that woman.”

I looked at each of them. Pedro. Alexandro. Then Vittorio.

“Before Rossi does,” I finished. “Because if she’s who I think she is... she’s mine first.”