I felt my hands ball into fists, ready to swing on his ass, when I heard the roar of an engine outside. It was loud, aggressive, the kind that made the whole building vibrate. Everyone in the dealership turned toward the entrance.
A jet black Lamborghini Urus pulled up right in front of the glass doors, sitting on custom forgiato rims that probably cost more than Rylo whole life. The windows were dark as hell, tinted illegal. The truck was so clean it looked like it just came off the factory floor.
The driver door opened, and Sosa stepped out.
My heart jumped. He looked like fucking money, black Amiri jeans with the leather detailing, a black Balenciaga hoodie, his Cuban link chain so icy it was catching light from across the room. He had on black Cartier frames, his dreads freshly retwisted and hanging past his shoulders. His Richard Mille was on his wrist, gleaming. He looked like power, like danger, and like everything Rylo wished he could be.
He walked into the dealership with his phone to his ear, not even looking at nobody, his presence commanding the whole room. People was staring, the employees, the customers, everybody. He finished his call, slid his phone in his pocket, and his eyes locked on me.
"What's good, baby?" He walked over with that confident stride, pulling me into him and kissing me on my forehead. Then his eyes slid to Rylo, and I saw his whole demeanor change. His jaw clenched.
"What the fuck this nigga want?"
"Nothing, he aint on shit," I said quickly. “Just in here talking out the side of his neck.”
"Oh word?" Sosa looked Rylo up and down slow, like he was examining a piece of shit on his shoe.
Rylo tried to look tough, puffing his chest out, but I could already see him starting to shrink under Sosa gaze. "You the plug who bought himself a fuck doll huh."
Sosa tilted his head, a cold smile spreading across his face. "I am. And I hear you over here running yo' mouth like a bitch,"
"I wasn't—"
"Nah, nah, don't do that." Sosa stepped closer, and Rylo took a small step back. "You was just talking real greasy, right? You just said she a fuck doll, right?" His voice was calm, but there was a edge to it that made my skin prickle. "Say that shit again."
Rylo opened his mouth but nothing came out.
"That's what I thought." Sosa laughed, but it wasn't friendly. "You a real tough guy when it's just you and a female, huh? But now you quiet as a mouse."
"Man, I ain't got no beef with you—"
"But you acting like you got beef with her, and she mine. So that mean you got beef with me." Sosa stepped even closer, now directly in Rylo face. Rylo was maybe 5'9, skinny. Sosa was 6'2,solid, and the way he was looking at Rylo made it clear he wasn't playing with his bitch ass.
"What you drive here, lil nigga?"
"What?" Rylo looked confused.
"What. You. Drive." Sosa repeated slowly, like he was talking to a child. "That white Charger outside? The one with the Enterprise sticker on the back?"
My eyes went wide, and I looked out the window. Sure enough, there was a white Dodge Charger with an Enterprise rental sticker barely peeled off the bumper.
"Yo, you ain't even driving your own car!" I burst out laughing.
"You fucking bum, out here in a rental talking shit?!"
Morgan looked embarrassed as hell, looking down at her feet.
Sosa shook his head. "This nigga in a rental. A fucking Dodge Charger rental." He pointed toward his Lamborghini. "You see that, That's a two-hundred-fifty thousand dollar truck. I own that. You don't own shit. You out here playing dress up in fake designer clothes, renting cars, scamming credit cards like a fucking loser."
"Man, you don't know shit about me—"
"I know everything about you. Mufucka," Sosa cut him off, his voice dropping lower, more menacing. "I know you don’t own shit, don’t got shit, and I know you owe Pee-Wee and them from the low end, six bands that you ain't got. You want me to keep going?" Rylo face went pale.
"You a nobody. A fucking nobody playing gangster with other people money. You ain't got no motion, no real paper, no nothing. You a leech."
"Sosa, baby, c’mon, he ain't worth it," I said, loving every second of this but also not wanting my man to catch a case over this bum.
"Nah, I want him to understand something." Sosa grabbed Rylo by the front of his shirt, yanking him close. Rylo let out a little gasp, his hands coming up but not actually trying to fight back. "If I ever and I mean EVER, hear you say or said some shit about my girl again, I'ma find you. And when I find you, I’m gon give yo’ mama a reason to where black and fry fish. You feel me?"