[Hot Pursuit job completed, calculating rewards...]
[Bonus Objective 1: Win race after giving 20-second head start - Achieved!]
[Bonus Objective 2: Reach 5-Star Wanted Level and successfully escape - Achieved!]
[Final Job Rating: S. Underworld Reputation +23. Earned 5 card draws.]
Mrs. Gaines's apartment. Lawson checked Payday app on his phone.
Unsurprisingly, Lawson scored another S rating, bagging five card draws.
Glanced at Franklin snoring loudly on makeshift floor bed, then at Megan sleeping in bedroom.
After making damn sure neither was faking sleep, Lawson started flipping cards.
[Received $50,000 cash!]
[Received Trump Card: "Mockingbird"!]
[Received Spy Pen!]
[Received $30,000 cash!]
[Received Taser!]
Jackpot!
One Trump Card, two gadgets, and $80,000 cold hard cash. Definitely worthy of 3-star job!
That 80k barely covered what Lawson blew modifying Dodge Viper.
Since Little Martin was dead, Lawson definitely wasn't seeing any prize money for winning race.
[Spy Pen: High-tech fountain pen containing micro-camera and audio recorder. Connects remotely to smartphone. Highly resistant to signal jamming. Max capacity: 3. Max active: 3. Deployed pens vanish automatically. Stock replenishes daily at midnight. "We have a rat, abort deal!"]
Shit! Remote smartphone connection meant planting Spy Pen was basically dropping hidden ward!
Deployed pens vanishing was insanely overpowered feature. Meant Lawson didn't have to risk going back to retrieve them.
Standard system-grade overpowered bullshit!
[Taser: Fires electrified darts to incapacitate targets. Adjustable voltage for different enemies or effects. Nitrogen cartridges and battery automatically recharge one second after depletion.]
Lawson pulled Taser from his phone. Weapon shaped roughly like standard handgun.
Matte black body, yellow warning stripes along barrel. Voltage adjustment dial sat right where hammer would normally be.
Dial showed three icons: human, animal, and skull.
Clearly meant voltage levels for humans, large animals, and straight-up lethal force.
Tasers were typically non-lethal, causing severe muscle spasms to drop targets.
But crank voltage high enough, and it would absolutely fry a motherfucker.
(Taser)
[Mockingbird: Perfectly mimic any voice you have ever heard. Mimicry bypasses advanced voiceprint analysis. "You'll never guess what species you're talking to online!"]
Sick fucking Trump Card!
Equipping Mockingbird, Lawson instantly felt his hearing sharpen, picking up hyper-detailed auditory nuances.
Probably passive effect. Can't flawlessly mimic voice if you can't hear its unique traits.
Lawson tested it, mimicking Megan's broadcast voice.
"Welcome to Fox News, I'm Megan Kelly."
That instantly jolted Megan awake in next room.
"What's going on? I swear I just heard my own voice."
Lawson quickly grabbed remote, pretending to shut off TV.
"My bad. Accidentally turned on TV. They were running reruns of your broadcast."
Megan let out massive sigh of relief and collapsed back onto bed.
"I'm just too tense. Hearing my own voice freaks me out."
Seemed blonde anchor completely bought it.
But her comment struck Lawson as weird.
"You don't like hearing yourself speak? Your voice is fucking gorgeous."
"Thanks! Just makes me anxious. I never watch my own broadcasts. Makes my skin crawl."
Weird fucking quirk, but everyone's got their own brand of crazy. Just part of her personality.
"Ms. Kelly, go back to sleep."
"Mr. Lawson, I can't! Just thinking about missing work at station gives me massive anxiety!"
Entertainment industry turnover was notoriously fast and insanely brutal.
TV stations were essentially same beast. Even as somewhat famous local news anchor in LA County, Megan faced crushing pressure, constantly terrified of getting replaced.
Franklin had it completely different. Low pay, but zero stress.
That's exactly why Megan desperately hunted major scoops—to solidify her position at station.
And that desperate hunt just dragged her into massive clusterfuck.
Right now, she was regretting every life choice.
Job, family, Mafia hit squads—all tangled in her head, making sleep impossible.
"I highly suggest you get some rest, otherwise you'll be dead tired tonight. Want me to sing you lullaby?"
Megan glared at him. She found this insanely handsome Asian guy's personality utterly infuriating.
Asshole wasn't even trying to comfort her, just making sarcastic jokes.
"Hard pass! I'll sleep on my own!"
She rolled over, giving Lawson her back. Lawson finally got back to his phone.
Hot Pursuit job completely settled. Lawson checked Payday app again and spotted brand-new job.
[New Job: In the Name of the Father]
[Difficulty: ☆☆☆]
[Primary Objective: Expose truth behind Martin Bonanno Jr.'s murder to public.]
[Bonus Objective 1: Ensure Megan Kelly and Franklin Clinton survive until job completion.]
[Bonus Objective 2: Expose truth behind Martin Bonanno Jr.'s murder directly in front of Francis Ricci.]
[Bonus Objective 3: Complete job before Old Martin Bonanno dies.]
[Current Status: Prep Phase]
[Available Intel: 3 pieces]
Even as 3-star job, Lawson felt difficulty could swing wildly depending on approach.
Easiest method? Use Megan's credentials to infiltrate TV station and broadcast camcorder footage. Job done.
But that completely trashed Bonus Objective 2.
Nailing Bonus Objective 2 required meticulous planning.
Which made Bonus Objective 3 massive ticking clock.
Reading between lines on Objective 3, Old Martin clearly suffered massive health crisis. No telling how long old man had left.
Fuck it. Buy intel first, see if anything useful pops up.
Not all intel guaranteed usefulness; heavily depended on Lawson's execution strategy.
-$30,000
omake
Lawson killed the Payday app and tossed his phone on the coffee table. Three fresh intel packets sat in his inbox for thirty grand well spent.
He cracked the first one while Franklin snored like a chainsaw on the floor and Megan curled up in the bedroom like she hadn't just lived through a murder and a police chase.
Intel One: Francis Ricci planned the hit on Martin Jr. six weeks ago. The godson wanted the Don's chair before the old man's heart gave out.
Intel Two: Old Martin Bonanno had a stroke the second he heard his son was dead. ICU at Mercy Hospital, machines breathing for him. Doctors gave him seventy-two hours, tops.
Intel Three: The Irish Mob marks at the murder scene were planted. Francis paid two low-level Irish guys to leave the calling cards, then killed them too. Clean frame job.
Lawson let out a low whistle. "Motherfucker's playing 4D chess while the rest of us are still learning checkers."
He leaned back on the couch, eyes on the closed bedroom door. Megan had finally passed out after he mimicked her own voice earlier. That Mockingbird card was pure evil. One second she's dead asleep, next she hears herself saying filthy shit on Fox News and bolts upright like she'd been electrocuted.
He smirked, remembering how her cheeks flushed when she thought the TV was on.
The apartment was dead quiet except for Franklin's snoring. Lawson stood, stretched, and padded barefoot to the bedroom door. He pushed it open just enough to see Megan tangled in the sheets, blonde hair fanned across the pillow, one long leg kicked out.
She was still wearing that tight tank top and tiny shorts from the race. The fabric had ridden up, showing the smooth curve of her ass and the faint outline of a thong.
Lawson's cock twitched hard.
He stepped inside, closed the door with a soft click, and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Ms. Kelly," he whispered, voice low and rough. "You awake?"
She stirred, lashes fluttering. "Lawson…? What time—"
He activated Mockingbird again, perfectly copying her own sultry broadcast voice.
"Welcome back to Fox News, I'm Megan Kelly… and right now I'm so fucking wet I can't think straight."
Her eyes snapped open wide. She sat up fast, chest heaving, nipples instantly hard against the thin cotton.
"What the hell—"
He grinned, normal voice this time. "Relax. It's just the new toy I pulled. Voice mimic. Thought you might like hearing yourself say something fun for once."
Megan's face went crimson, but she didn't look away. Her thighs pressed together under the sheet.
"You're an asshole," she breathed, but her voice was husky, not angry.
"Yeah? Tell me to stop then."
She didn't.
Lawson leaned in slow, giving her every chance to push him away. Instead she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down into a hungry kiss.
Their mouths crashed together, tongues sliding hot and wet. Megan moaned into it, hands sliding under his shirt, nails raking down his abs. He palmed one heavy tit through her tank top, thumb circling the stiff nipple until she whimpered.
"Fuck, Lawson… I shouldn't want this," she gasped against his mouth. "Not after tonight. Not with everything—"
"Shut up and spread your legs, Megan."
She did.
He shoved the tank top up, exposing those perfect tits, and sucked one hard nipple into his mouth while his hand slid down her stomach and into her shorts. She was soaked. Two fingers slipped inside her easily, curling, stroking that spot that made her hips buck.
"Oh my God—right there—"
He finger-fucked her slow and deep while his mouth worked her tits, switching back and forth, biting just hard enough to make her cry out. Megan's hand fisted in his hair, holding him there as she rode his fingers, grinding her clit against his palm.
"I'm gonna come—fuck, I'm coming—"
Her pussy clamped down on his fingers like a vice, juices flooding his hand as she shook through a hard, shuddering orgasm. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, eyes squeezed shut, body arched off the bed.
Lawson didn't stop. He kept stroking her through it until she was twitching and oversensitive, then pulled his fingers free and licked them clean right in front of her.
"Jesus Christ," she whispered, staring at him like he was dangerous. "You're filthy."
"You have no idea."
He stood, stripped off his shirt and pants in one smooth motion. His cock sprang free, thick, veined, and rock-hard. Megan's eyes locked on it, tongue darting out to wet her lips.
"Get on your knees."
She slid off the bed instantly, dropping to the carpet, tits bouncing. She looked up at him with those big blue eyes—half innocent news anchor, half desperate slut—and wrapped both hands around his shaft.
"So fucking big," she murmured, then took him into her mouth in one wet glide.
Lawson groaned as her hot tongue swirled around the head, sucking hard. She bobbed fast, cheeks hollowing, spit dripping down her chin onto her tits. One hand pumped the base while the other cupped his heavy balls, rolling them gently.
"Fuck, Megan… just like that. Take it deeper."
She relaxed her throat and pushed forward until her nose pressed against his abs, swallowing around him. The tight, rippling heat made his toes curl.
She gagged softly but held it, eyes watering, mascara starting to run. The sight of the famous blonde anchor deepthroating him like a porn star was almost too much.
He pulled out with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting her swollen lips to his glistening cock.
"Bed. Now. On your back."
Megan scrambled onto the mattress, spreading her legs wide, shorts and thong yanked to the side. Her pussy was pink, swollen, and dripping.
Lawson climbed between her thighs, rubbed the fat head of his cock up and down her slit, teasing her clit until she whined.
"Put it in me," she begged. "Please, Lawson—fuck me."
He thrust in hard, burying every inch in one stroke.
Megan's back arched off the bed, a silent scream on her lips as her walls stretched around his thickness. He didn't give her time to adjust—just started pounding her deep and fast, the wet slap of skin echoing in the small room.
"Harder—oh fuck, yes—right there—"
He hooked her legs over his shoulders, folding her in half, driving even deeper. The bed creaked under them. Megan's tits bounced wildly with every thrust. She reached down and rubbed her clit in frantic circles, chasing another orgasm.
"I'm gonna come again—don't stop—fill me up, please—"
Lawson slammed into her one last time, grinding deep as he came hard, thick ropes of cum flooding her pussy. Megan came with him, walls milking every drop, her whole body shaking.
They stayed locked together, breathing hard, sweat-slick and spent.
After a long minute, Lawson pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak from her well-fucked pussy. Megan looked thoroughly wrecked—hair messy, lips swollen, tits marked with faint bite prints.
She gave him a lazy, satisfied smile.
"Best stress relief I've had in years."
Lawson chuckled, collapsing beside her. "We're just getting started, Ms. Kelly. Tomorrow we expose a murderer on live TV. Tonight? I'm gonna fuck you until you forget your own name."
Megan's eyes sparkled with fresh heat.
"Promise?"
[New Job Status: Execution Phase Unlocked]
[Bonus Objective Progress: 0/3]
Lawson smirked at the notification floating in his vision.
Time to go to war.