Sofia had finally cried herself to sleep.
Lawson had pieced together exactly what went down that afternoon. To secure her grip on the Bonanno empire, Luca had marched her into a cathedral and made her swear an oath to God that she would never remarry. For a guy like Lawson, an oath like that meant absolutely nothing. But Sofia was different. She was a devout Catholic. Lawson had literally weaponized her faith just days ago to give her the spine to take down Francis. Now, that same faith was binding her to this vow.
But in the end, she took the oath. She knew the stakes. If she had refused Luca, she would have lost every ounce of power she had just fought to build.
Before she finally passed out, she had wept in Lawson's arms, devastated that they could never officially marry. Honestly, Lawson considered that a massive win.
"Lawson, will you still want me?" she had asked, her voice trembling.
"Of course," he had lied smoothly. "A piece of paper doesn't dictate love. I'm not going anywhere."
It took some serious sweet-talking, but he finally got her to sleep.
Now, it was time to ghost.
It took a minute to break free. Sofia had a death grip on his arm. Not wanting to wake her, Lawson had to pry her fingers off one by one. Once free, he slipped out of the master bedroom like a shadow. He eased the door shut—and immediately spotted a small head peeking around the corner of the hallway.
"Audrey? What are you doing out here?"
"I couldn't sleep. I went to your room, but you weren't there. I was looking everywhere for you..."
Audrey stepped out of the shadows, walked right up to him, and practically buried her face in his chest, taking a deep sniff. She immediately caught the scent of Sofia's perfume on his shirt. Her flawless, doll-like face instantly dropped into a scowl.
Lawson held back a sigh. He knew keeping his relationship with Sofia a total secret was impossible, but he didn't expect the eighteen-year-old to figure it out in a matter of days. If Audrey knew, the rest of the estate staff definitely knew too. Refusing to actually sleep with Sofia so far had been a brilliant tactical move. Lust is easy to hide; genuine emotional attachment is impossible to cover up.
"Where's Eva?" Lawson asked, changing the subject.
Audrey pouted. "She said she was going to tell me a bedtime story, but she ended up falling asleep in the middle of it."
Lawson was speechless. The deadly Russian assassin had literally bored herself to sleep.
"Mr. Lawson... are you really sleeping with Mrs. Bonanno?"
Technically, Audrey was supposed to call Sofia her stepmother. But since Sofia was barely older than her, the word just felt weird. "Mrs. Bonanno" was as respectful as it got.
"Audrey, it's not what you think. Mr. Bonanno is in a coma, and she's completely lost her support system. She's terrified. I was just comforting her."
Lawson tried to spin some bullshit to smooth it over. But Audrey's response completely threw him.
"So it's just emotional cheating? What's the big deal? I saw that all the time back in Twin Peaks. Emotional cheating, physical cheating... everyone is sleeping with everyone!"
Lawson blinked. For a second, his brain short-circuited. Wasn't Twin Peaks supposed to be some quiet, boring logging town? What kind of wild shit were they doing out there?
He quickly snapped out of it. "Ahem! Audrey, you can't say things like that out loud. It'll destroy the Madam's reputation, and her reputation is the only thing keeping this family together right now."
Audrey took another step closer, tilting her head up to look at him. She was petite—barely hitting 5'3"—so she had to look straight up to meet his eyes. From this angle, she was undeniably breathtaking. She had this classic, vintage Hollywood beauty that was incredibly alluring. At least, until she opened her mouth and ruined the illusion.
"I won't tell anyone... on one condition. Kiss me."
Yep. Face of a classic starlet, heart of a wild American teenager.
Lawson ruthlessly suppressed his own instincts and took a step back. The Bonanno estate was a powder keg right now. He didn't need to throw a lit match into it.
"Sorry, Audrey. This really isn't the time or the place for this."
His rejection hit her hard. She instantly got worked up.
"Why not? Am I not as pretty as her? Is my body not as good?"
Before Lawson could blink, Audrey grabbed the collar of her thin silk nightgown and yanked it down, determined to prove her point. The silk whispered against her skin as it slid lower, revealing the upper swell of her breasts—fuller and heavier than her petite frame suggested, with pale, creamy skin and pink nipples already tightening in the cool hallway air. Lawson caught a split-second glimpse of those serious assets she'd been hiding under modest small-town clothes and lunged forward, grabbing her wrists to stop her from stripping right there.
"Audrey! Let's take this downstairs."
Her voice was getting loud. If Sofia woke up and walked out, it would be a bloodbath. To avoid a complete disaster, Lawson dragged Audrey down to the main living room, one hand firmly on her arm, the other keeping her nightgown from falling further. She stumbled along, breathing fast, her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and something hotter.
The living room was dimly lit by a single floor lamp in the corner, casting long shadows across the expensive leather couches and dark wood. The house was quiet except for the distant hum of the estate's security system. Lawson shut the double doors behind them and turned to face her.
"Mr. Lawson... do you hate me?"
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, but her jaw was set with stubborn defiance. It was a massive headache. Lawson gritted his teeth and put his hands firmly on her shoulders.
"Audrey, you are young, beautiful, and gorgeous. There isn't a straight man alive who wouldn't want you."
"But you don't." She refused to let it go. She was completely trapped in her own spiral of self-doubt. It made sense. She was a small-town girl dropped into the absolute deep end of Los Angeles. She was surrounded by high-fashion, lethal women like Sofia and Eva. Of course she felt insecure.
Out of options, Lawson decided to give her a dose of reality to prove her own appeal.
"Look down."
Confused, Audrey lowered her eyes. When she saw the incredibly obvious, massive tent pitched in Lawson's trousers, she slapped both hands over her mouth, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. Lawson had ironclad mental discipline, but biology was biology—and right now his cock was rock-hard, straining against the fabric, the thick outline unmistakable in the low light.
"Audrey, stop doubting yourself. You are incredibly attractive. But you just got dropped into a massive, terrifying city. You're feeling insecure and overwhelmed, and you're projecting those feelings onto me because I'm safe. Go back to your room. Cool off. Give it a few days, and your head will clear."
Lawson was just buying time. Once this critical transition period was over and Sofia officially locked down the Boss's chair, this mess would be way easier to handle.
But Audrey clearly hadn't listened to a single word he just said.
She suddenly went up on her tiptoes and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his nose.
"I believe you now! You and Mrs. Bonanno definitely didn't do anything tonight! Hehe!"
With a bright, triumphant laugh, she spun around and sprinted back toward her guest room.
Lawson touched his nose, completely speechless.
Did I just get sexually harassed by an eighteen-year-old?
No. That wasn't how it had gone down. Not even close.
When she had whispered "Kiss me" in the hallway, her voice trembling with that mix of teenage defiance and raw need, something in Lawson had cracked—just for a moment. He had told himself it was tactical. Calm her down. Shut her up. One kiss to buy silence. But the second their lips met, it stopped being tactical.
Her mouth was soft, tasting faintly of mint toothpaste and something sweeter, like the cherry lip balm she must have put on before sneaking around the house. At first she was hesitant, her lips barely moving, but the moment Lawson cupped the back of her neck and deepened the kiss, she melted into him with a tiny, surprised moan that went straight to his cock.
He had meant it to be quick. A peck. Instead, her arms came up around his shoulders, and she pressed her whole petite body against him. The thin silk nightgown did nothing to hide the heat of her skin or the way her full, heavy breasts flattened against his chest. Lawson's hands moved on their own—one sliding down to the small of her back, the other coming up to cradle the side of one breast through the silk. He felt the weight of it, warm and soft, and his thumb brushed over the hardening nipple. Audrey gasped into his mouth, her hips twitching forward instinctively.
"Lawson…" she breathed against his lips, voice shaky and excited.
He should have stopped. He knew he should have stopped. But her tongue was shyly tracing his lower lip, and when he opened for her, she made this sweet, eager sound and kissed him harder. His hand on her breast squeezed gently, then slipped inside the loose neckline of the nightgown to cup bare skin. Her nipple was tight against his palm. She arched into the touch like she'd been waiting for it.
They stumbled together down the hallway and into the living room, lips still locked, breathing hard. Lawson kicked the doors shut behind them. The second they were alone, Audrey's hands were everywhere—tugging at his shirt, sliding under the hem to touch his stomach, then lower, bolder than he expected from an eighteen-year-old small-town girl.
She broke the kiss just long enough to look down at the obvious bulge in his pants again. Her cheeks were flushed dark, eyes wide and glassy.
"It's… really big," she whispered, almost reverent. "From me?"
Lawson's voice came out rough. "Yeah. From you."
That seemed to give her courage. She sank to her knees right there on the thick rug in front of the couch, her doll-like face tilted up, wine-red hair messy around her shoulders. Her nightgown had slipped off one shoulder, exposing the top curve of one breast and a tight pink nipple. She reached for his belt with trembling but determined fingers.
"A-Audrey—wait—"
"Just a little," she said quickly, eyes flicking up to his. "I won't tell. I just… I want to. Please?"
He should have pulled her up. Instead, he watched as she unzipped him, reached inside, and carefully drew out his cock. It sprang free, thick and heavy, the head already glistening. Audrey's eyes went huge. For a second she just stared, lips parted.
"Oh my god…"
Then she leaned in and gave the head a tentative, soft lick. The wet heat of her tongue made Lawson's hips jerk. She did it again, slower, tasting him, then opened her mouth and took the head between her lips. It was clumsy at first—her inexperience obvious—but she was enthusiastic, sucking gently, one small hand wrapping around the shaft and stroking what she couldn't fit. Her other hand rested on his thigh for balance.
Lawson's hand found her hair, fingers threading through the soft strands. He didn't push, just held on as she bobbed her head experimentally. The sight of her—eighteen, flushed, lips stretched around his cock, nightgown half-off her shoulders—was almost too much. She moaned around him when he throbbed against her tongue, the vibration shooting up his spine.
"Fuck… Audrey, easy," he muttered, voice low. "You're gonna make me lose it."
She pulled off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his cock. Her eyes were shining, a little dazed but proud.
"I like it," she admitted breathlessly. "You taste good. And it's so hot how it twitches when I do that." She licked the underside again, slower this time, then took him back into her mouth, sucking with more confidence. Her hand stroked in time with her mouth. It was messy, eager, and way more effective than it had any right to be.
Lawson's control was fraying fast. He let her have another minute—her soft moans, the wet sounds, the way her free hand had slipped between her own thighs to rub herself through the nightgown—before he gently pulled her off.
"Enough," he said, voice strained. "My turn."
He lifted her easily onto the couch, laying her back against the cushions. Her nightgown rode up her thighs. No panties. Of course not—she'd come looking for him. Her pussy was pink and already glistening, a neat little patch of trimmed hair above it. She was breathing fast, chest rising and falling, those full breasts half-exposed.
Lawson knelt between her spread legs and ran two fingers along her slit. She was soaked. Audrey whimpered and bucked her hips.
"Lawson—please—"
He circled her clit with his thumb, slow and firm, while one finger teased her entrance. She was tight—virgin-tight—and when he pushed the finger in, her walls clenched around him immediately. He added a second finger carefully, pumping slowly, curling them to find that spot inside while his thumb kept working her clit.
Audrey's head fell back against the couch. Her mouth opened on a silent cry, then a broken moan.
"Oh—oh god—that feels—ah!"
Her hips rolled against his hand. Lawson watched her face—flushed, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted—as he fucked her with his fingers, steady and relentless. He could feel her getting wetter, the slick sounds obscene in the quiet room. When he rubbed that spot inside her just right and pressed harder on her clit, her whole body jerked.
"I—I'm gonna—Lawson, I'm gonna cum—!"
Her pussy clamped down hard around his fingers. Her thighs shook. A rush of wetness coated his hand as she came, back arching off the couch, a high, helpless moan tearing out of her throat. He kept working her through it, drawing it out until she was twitching and gasping, one hand fisted in the couch cushion, the other grabbing his wrist like she didn't know whether to pull him closer or push him away.
When she finally went limp, panting, he slowly withdrew his fingers. They were shiny with her cum. Audrey stared at him, wide-eyed, chest heaving, nightgown completely disheveled. She looked wrecked in the best way—hair messy, lips swollen from sucking him, thighs still trembling.
Lawson leaned over her and kissed her again, slower this time, letting her taste herself on his tongue. She kissed back dreamily, then pulled back just enough to press a soft, playful kiss to the tip of his nose.
"I believe you now," she whispered, voice hoarse and satisfied. "You and Mrs. Bonanno definitely didn't do anything tonight. Hehe!"
With a bright, triumphant little laugh, she wriggled out from under him, tugged her nightgown back into some semblance of order, and sprinted toward the stairs on shaky legs.
Lawson stayed kneeling by the couch for a long moment, cock still hard and aching, the taste of her on his tongue, the scent of her orgasm on his fingers. He touched his nose again, where she'd kissed him.
Did I just get sexually harassed by an eighteen-year-old?
Yeah. And the worst part was… he hadn't exactly hated it.
Between Sofia's emotional breakdown and Audrey's late-night ambush, Lawson was wired.
He tossed and turned for hours, only managing to catch a few minutes of sleep right as the sun started coming up. That was the problem with being twenty-something. The blood ran a little too hot.
The next morning, Lawson inhaled his breakfast and practically sprinted out the door. Audrey had been staring at him from across the table with terrifying intensity. She hadn't absorbed a single word of his lecture last night. In fact, seeing his physical reaction seemed to have only encouraged her.
Thankfully, Sofia was too buried in her own stress to notice the teenager's predatory glaring. If she had, blood would have been spilled over the bacon and eggs.
Lawson spent the morning shadowing Rafferty. It was his last day on the tour.
Most of the Bonanno made men had officially recognized his face by now. From here on out, his face was his VIP pass into any Bonanno-owned territory.
That afternoon, Lawson swapped his face and assumed the identity of "Jack Cole" before heading out to meet Donnie.
"Hey, Donnie. I'm Jack Cole. Mr. Lawson sent me."
Donnie frowned, his eyes scanning the scrawny, utterly generic white guy standing in front of him. His years deep undercover made him highly paranoid. He wasn't about to just trust a stranger.
Especially since the name "Lawson" held serious weight on the streets now. Half the Bonanno family knew who he was.
"How the hell do I know Lawson actually sent you?"
"Hold on. I'll call him."
Lawson pulled a brand-new burner phone from his pocket and dialed a number right in front of Donnie.
A few seconds later, Donnie heard Lawson's familiar, calm voice through the receiver.
"Yeah. It's Lawson."
"Mr. Lawson," Jack said into the phone. "I found Mr. Brasco, but he's having some trust issues."
"Donnie's right to be paranoid. The job we're pulling requires it," Lawson's voice replied smoothly. "Donnie, Jack is solid. We've bled together. You can trust him with your life."
Hearing Lawson personally vouch for him, Donnie visibly relaxed.
"Understood, Lawson."
"Alright, Mr. Lawson. I'll let you get back to it," Jack said, ending the call.
Lawson smirked, sliding the burner back into his jacket. "We good now?"
Donnie nodded. He had no idea Lawson had literally pre-recorded an entire side of a conversation, predicting Donnie's exact reactions to trick him.
But Donnie still had one question.
"Did something happen on Lawson's end? Why didn't he introduce us himself?"
"Mr. Brasco, I'm sure you know what's going down with the Bonannos right now?"
Donnie nodded.
"Lawson noticed he picked up a tail the last two days. To keep the heat off this op, he decided to pull back and let me run point on the ground."
The part about the tail was actually true. While walking with Rafferty today, Lawson had caught several lingering stares.
He was definitely being watched, though he didn't know which faction was holding the binoculars yet.
Given his proximity to Sofia, it was only a matter of time before someone put eyes on him. Honestly, he was surprised it took this long. Because of the heat, stepping in as Jack Cole for the bank heist was mandatory.
Donnie bought the explanation completely.
"Makes sense. Can't risk the exposure. Come on, let's head to the Toretto cafe."
With Donnie vouching for him, the Toretto crew accepted "Jack Cole" without a second thought.
Unsurprisingly, Mia was nowhere to be seen inside the cafe.
"Alright, gentlemen. This is fresh footage from inside St. Martin's Bank. Take a look."
Lawson slid the tape into the VCR and hit play on the cafe's bulky TV.
Jesse watched the screen, his jaw dropping.
"What the fuck? How did you get this?"
"Heh. Mr. Lawson has a very wide network. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here with ultra-exclusive recon."
The crew watched the entire tape in silence. They memorized the camera placements and the alarm triggers. When the gold appeared on screen, a heavy silence fell over the room. But other than the sheer shock of seeing the loot, they didn't really grasp the tactical details.
"Okay, Jack. We saw the tape. What's the play?" Dom asked, crossing his massive arms.
Lawson let out a mental sigh. He grabbed the remote and rewound the tape to the vault interior.
"This right here is the whole ballgame. Pay attention." He paused the video and pointed at the concrete wall behind the gold. "Look at this line across the wall. The concrete above it is a totally different shade than the concrete below it. What does that tell you?"
Dom stared at it for three seconds before it clicked.
"It's a water line. The vault flooded."
"Exactly!" Lawson tapped the screen. "That vault door is twenty inches of hermetically sealed steel. Water didn't get in through the front door. That means there was a massive structural failure inside the vault itself that let the water in!"
And it wasn't a minor leak. That water line was nearly three feet high. It was deep enough to drown a toddler.
Donnie's eyes widened as the pieces snapped together.
"Lawson had me tracking down the city sewer blueprints for the block under St. Martin's. Did he know about this the whole time?"
Lawson flashed a pale, unsettling grin.
"Mr. Lawson had a very strong theory. This tape just confirmed it as absolute fact."
The room went quiet. The crew was suddenly deeply intimidated by Lawson's intelligence network.
Dom, especially, realized that the Toretto crew had been operating like street thugs. This was what real, professional heist planning looked like.
"Jack, what's the next move?"
"Mr. Lawson drafted the preliminary prep phases. Phase One: We need to cross-reference the blueprints and confirm exactly which wall inside that vault shares a border with the city sewer tunnels. This is top priority. The entire op hinges on it."
Dom nodded firmly, turning to Vince.
"Vince. You're with Donnie. Get down in those tunnels and map it out. Two guys work faster than one."
"You got it, Dom."
With Phase One delegated, Lawson moved to the next massive hurdle.
"Phase Two. The extraction."
Lawson looked around the room. "That is five tons of solid gold. A standard warehouse forklift would snap its axle trying to lift that pallet. Moving it out of the vault is going to be a nightmare."
The reality of the physics set in. The crew fell into a heavy, frustrated silence.
"Mr. Lawson actually has a prototype plan for the extraction," Lawson continued. "But it's highly experimental. It needs to be tested in the real world before we bet our lives on it."
"Jack, say less." Dom stepped up, his voice gravelly and confident. "Whatever needs testing, leave it to me. I'll handle it."
"Perfect." Lawson nodded, then casually dropped his final question. "Mr. Toretto, just out of curiosity... is Ms. Mia currently employed at St. Martin's Bank?"
Dom's entire demeanor shifted instantly. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
"How the hell do you know that?"