Page 5 of Boss of Brooklyn

I swallow hard. “I think the Boss of Brooklyn just told me to leave town.”

Chapter 3

Luca

Islam the door of my penthouse, my mind still reeling from what I experienced at the restaurant. Loosening my tie with agitated movements, I pour myself a generous glass of whiskey. As I sip the amber liquid, my thoughts are consumed with Sofia Romano.

Her image is burned into my brain - those wide, expressive eyes, the cascade of dark hair framing her face, the way her chef's jacket hugged her curves. Fuck, those curves had me salivated. I groan, running a hand through my hair. I can't remember the last time a woman affected me like this.

I recall the way she moved in the restaurant, graceful and confident. The passion in her voice when she spoke about her food. The softness of her skin when I grabbed her wrist. Those full lips, slightly parted in surprise...

“Dammit,” I mutter, downing the rest of my whiskey. I shouldn't be thinking about her like this. She's a problem, a Romano setting up shop in my territory. I have a reputation to uphold, an empire to protect. I can't afford to show weakness, not even for a beautiful girl.

But as I prepare for bed, I can't shake the memory of the fear in Sofia's eyes when I threatened her. I'm used to inspiring fear, reveling in it even. So why does her fear leave me feeling... hollow?

I toss and turn all night, my dreams filled with bright eyes and those delicious curves. When I can’t take it any longer, my hand slides to the steel rod of my cock. It’s fully erect at the thought of Sofia kneeling before me, those lips wrapped around it. I begin to stroke myself, faster and faster, imagining her taking me down her throat, taking all of me. I come hard and fast, her name on my lips as my release pulses through me.

The next morning, I make a decision. “Leo, get the car. We're going for a drive.”

Leo raises an eyebrow but knows better than to question me. Soon, we're parked across the street from Sofia's apartment building, the dossier in my hand.

“Boss, what are we doing here?” Leo asks, confusion evident in his voice.

I ignore him, my eyes fixed on the building's entrance. After what feels like an eternity, Sofia emerges, looking refreshed and determined. I feel my breath catch.

She's dressed casually in jeans and a tight t-shirt, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. There’s something different about this girl, something that draws my eye. I watch as she checks her phone, then sets off down the street with purpose in her stride.

“Follow her,” I instruct Leo, who complies with a barely suppressed sigh.

We tail her to a local farmer's market, keeping a discreet distance. I observe as Sofia moves from stall to stall, her face lighting up as she examines the produce. She picks up a tomato, bringing it to her nose to inhale its scent, and I find myself wondering what it would be like to see that smile directed at me.

“You know, boss,” Leo's voice interrupts my thoughts, “we could just have one of the guys do this if you need intel on her.”

“No,” I say sharply. “I need to handle this personally.”

Leo smirks. “Sure, boss. 'Handle it personally.' That's what we're calling it now?”

I shoot him a warning glare, but internally, I'm unsettled. I barely know this girl, and yet the thought of anyone else watching her makes my blood boil.

We continue following Sofia as she leaves the market, her arms laden with bags of fresh produce. She stops to chat with an elderly neighbor, setting down her bags to help the woman with her own groceries. The kindness in her gesture tugs at something in my chest.

Next, we trail her to a kitchen supply store. Through the window, I watch as Sofia's face lights up, reminding me of a kid in a candy store. She examines pots and pans with reverence, testing the weight and balance of each one. When she picks up a chef's knife, testing its edge with a practiced eye, I find myself mesmerized by the confidence in her movements.

We follow her to a small café where she meets a friend for lunch. Through the window, I watch as Sofia laughs, her whole face lighting up with joy. Something twists in my gut – a feeling I refuse to acknowledge as envy.

“Boss,” Leo's voice breaks through my reverie. “Don't you have more important things to do today? Al took care of the Venezuelans, but that meeting with the Espositos...”

I wave him off, my eyes still fixed on Sofia. “Reschedule it.”

Leo sighs but doesn't argue. He knows better than to push me when I'm in this mood.

As the sun gets lower in the sky, we trail Sofia back to her restaurant. I watch as she unlocks the side door with her arms full. “This is ridiculous,” I mutter, more to myself than to Leo. “What am I doing here?”

But as I'm about to tell Leo to drive away, a commotion catches my attention. Two men have cornered Sofia in the alley beside her restaurant, one of them grabbing at her purse.

Without thinking, I'm out of the car, racing towards the scene. I barely register Leo's surprised shout behind me.

As I near, I can hear Sofia's defiant voice. “Get your hands off my bag!”

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