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Priest moved before Victor’s guy realized what was happening and slammed his face into the table. The sound was loud enough to make the restaurant go silent. The man struggled and Priest bashed his head against the table again, this time hard enough to break his nose. Blood dripped onto the tablecloth. The second guy went to stand, but Marco put a firm hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down.

Victor flinched. “Was that necessary?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Would you rather it have been you?”

The first man groaned as Priest released him, pressing his hands to his nose.

“Add another twenty to the forty kilos you owe me,” I said calmly. “I want my shit by Wednesday. No exceptions. And the next time you feel the urge to call my father, I want you to look at your mans right here and ask yourself if it’d be worth it.”

I stood and walked out with Yomi, Marco, and Priest.

“What you wanna do if he doesn’t come through again?” Marco asked once we were back in the truck.

“I have half a mind to start hitting his stash houses,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. But that was a last resort. Doing anything that brazen would start an all-out war. “We’re cutting him off after he gives me my product. Yomi, you got any hits on new suppliers for me?”

“There’s a crew out of Miami that might work. A little more expensive than Castellano, but I’m told their head runs a tight ship,” Yomi said.

I nodded. “Get me a meeting.”

Belle’s pretty ass was still running laps in my head when I got home. I opened our text thread, thought about deleting her number just to make the urge stop, then closed it and called Harmony instead.

“Hey, stranger,” Harmony greeted me when she picked up.

“Hey. What you up to?”

I’d met Harmony at the mayor’s holiday gala a few years ago. We went from one night stand to fuck buddies over a course of weeks. I liked her because she was beautiful and chill as hell. She never tried to make our situation more than it was.

“Not a damn thing,” she said. “I’m home, about to order some food, probably watch some weird documentary on Netflix.”

“In the mood for some company?”

“If by company, you mean you and your third leg, then yes,” she laughed.

I freshened up and stopped to pick up a bottle of her rosé before heading to her spot in Williamsburg.

She opened the door wearing booty shorts and a crop top.

“You wear this to tease me?” I asked.

“Hello to you too.” She giggled as she led me to the living room.

There was a half-eaten container of Chinese food on the coffee table, and a cult documentary playing on the TV. I opened the rosé and poured us both a glass while she explained to me why this lady in Ohio ran away and joined some doomsday church in Ohio in the nineties.

I took my shoes off and dropped onto the couch next to her. She kicked her feet onto my lap and kept rambling. I wasn’t even listening, just looked at those pouty lips, imagining them wrapped my dick at some point this evening.

“You not even listening to me,” she chided, poking my leg with her foot.

“Nah, I’m listening. But come here though.” I patted my lap.

She set her glass down and climbed on, wrapping her arms around my neck. “You need to get out your head tonight?”

“You have no idea.”

Harmony grabbed my face and kissed me, grinding her hips slowly. She gasped as I tugged the front of her tank top down and took her nipple in my mouth, sucking and flicking my tongue over it.

“Dez,” she whined, arms tight around my neck. The heat of her pussy through the thin-ass shorts had my dick hard enough to bust through my sweats.

She kissed me again before sliding off my lap and dropped between my legs, yanking my sweats down. My dick sprang out, already leaking.