Page 108 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
“My nigga was on perks and was stubborn as a fucking fool. Ewed-ewed. I nearly overdosed tooooo. I had to beg my brother not to off my duuuude. Ooo Ooo. Cuz Demise is the king of loose screwssss. Ezio was almost chopped and screeeewed!”
Again, the ladies were cackling all over the microphones. I didn’t get the joke again, but laughed along with them because clearly, they all had been through some stuff with the men in their lives.
I was next, and even though I had liquor courage, I didn’t know how to rhyme, especially in English. However, I was going to try.
Closing my eyes, I let the words out. “I’m promised to a man who sells women, and he sells kids toooo… Ooo Ooo. I don’t know what to doooo! He might fuck around and sell my ass toooo. Too, too. He's a ruthless duuuude. I can’t believe my father set this up. Ooo. Ewed-ewed. Pray for me, boossss. I’ve officially been chopped and screwedddd!”
Pulling the earphones back, I opened my eyes and turned to the women who all had their mouths open.
“Okay, so maybe we don’t add that part in there.” Dasani nodded to the man through the window.
“Shit, even if we did, she doesn’t need autotune. This putha can saaaang! Let me find out,” Mocha added.
Scarlett and Jisei exchanged questioning looks, but I remained silent. I’d revealed too much, but so had the rest of the ladies. It just so happened that my reality was sadder than theirs.
“Okay! You need some ass shakin’ after that. I’m ’bout to order a black truck to take us to the club,” Missy said, shifting the mood and conversation.
The ladies exited the booth, leaving Dasani and me behind.
“You good, boo?” she asked with a sincere look on her pretty face.
Lifting my head, I nodded, slightly embarrassed.
“All right. Come on. Let’s turn up!”
Chapter 19
Shio Cuppacio
Iheard the front door slam shut, indicating that Solana had left to hang out with the wives. She hadn't come back to the office to say goodbye, and that was probably the smartest thing she'd done since she landed her pretty feet on American soil.
Shit had gotten extra thick in here, and I was cringing at how close my ass was to folding and taking Solana down on my desk. I'd made the first physical mistake by sitting her on my lap, but she made the first unintentional mistake by bringing her ass on my side of the house in that tight-ass dress. I knew better, though. I'd preached to all that would listen how important it was to move with reason. Logic. And my ass was in here moving like a boy who’d just hit puberty.
Solana was pushing buttons I didn't think I'd possessed. She was quiet but sassy, which kept my interest piqued. She was a natural learner, and that surprised me because I didn’t meet many people who desired to be better. She looked like a plate of enchiladas straight out of the oven—immaculate and ready to be devoured at any second. I’d been around pretty women all my life, but Solana was an exotic Black beauty. She smelled perfect, even when she was sweating like a racehorse during ourworkouts. I had gone from dreading sharing my gym with her to looking forward to the days we exercised and ate breakfast together.
I had been keeping my feelings at bay, or whatever the fuck this was that was happening, because it’d only been a couple of weeks since she walked out of the guest room bathroom with my gun pointed at her dome. I thought I was doing a good job by doing two-a-day workouts, needing to do one by myself just to release whatever the fuck had come inside of me and placed images of Solana there. I’d even double up my workload with Don and Matteo to keep busy and out of the house, but reality had checked my ass this evening. I'd heard every voice from every person in my life telling me "no" clear as day, and I'd been listening up until two hours ago. I had to get my shit together before my dick started a war.
My dick.
That's what the problem was. I didn't like Solana. My ass just hadn't released in days. I wanted to be respectful and not bring Uriah to the crib while it was Solana's temporary residence, so I'd ignored my human need. I needed to bust two nuts, and the sooner the better. I’m sure afterward, I’d be straight to continue this roommate situation.
Going to the lounge chair, I twisted one of the buttons in opposite directions until I heard a click. The chair seat opened and displayed rows of rubber-banded money. I'd asked Preston to help me with this custom safe, and he'd significantly delivered. Putting all the money Solana and I had just counted inside the chair base, I updated my logs, closed the chair back on its base, and stood.
Seeing my personal phone vibrating on my desk, I walked over to see that Vello was FaceTiming me. I hadn't heard much from him outside of business, and I knew it was because those twins were occupying his time. I was happy for him andDiscover. Between the engagement and the twins' arrival, I'd say Vello was on track to be an official member of the Rinaldi Mob. Pia was deep in wedding planning, so Nel was close too. It was now on me to ensure I fulfilled my obligation and got myself a fucking wife. Shaking my head, I thought about Glow and Tunan. Not having the mental space to even think about that shit, I shook my head again to clear the two from my frontal.
Chuckling, I answer the phone. "Yes?"
"Yo'! You going to the Dungeon later tonight? Nel said they gettin’ together since the wives went out."
"I ain't heard shit, but I'll slide through."
"You probably ain't heard shit cuz you over there reading the Bible and looking at that Hispanic girl’s ass!" Vello roared into the phone. "At the same time too!"
I ain't have time for this nigga’s antics tonight. I had one destination in mind, and if time permitted, I'd swing by the Dungeon after.
When I didn't reply, Vello kept jesting me. "Oh, you on mute now? It's all good. I know your ass over there, fuckin’ her in your mind and shit." Before he could say anything else, I heard Discover saying something in the background. "Aite, Big Mama. Text me pictures so ion get the wrong shit. Aye, Shio... I'll catch up with y'all later. I gotta go to the store formy wife."
I could hear the smirk on his face when he said, "my wife." Niggas were clowns. Just months ago, they were in my house crying and bitching about the Don's, their women, and our duties that had to be fulfilled to become authentic mobsters.
