Chapter 48 — Turning Svetlana into the Future Queen of Guns
"That's not the point.
The point is—
will you follow me and carve out a piece of the world…
or rot here in this slum until you're discarded?"
William's words were starting to sound more and more like a rap verse, but Svetlana didn't laugh this time.
Instead, she thought.
She had been in the South Side long enough to understand the unwritten rule of Sasha's empire:
Girls age → get ugly → get thrown away.
Then what?
Stand on the street corner like garbage and beg for scraps from passing strangers.
This was not the future Svetlana wanted.
For the first time in years, something that looked like opportunity stood in front of her.
"What do I have to pay… if I agree to work with you?"
She wasn't stupid. Not even hope could fog her instincts.
William liked that answer.
Cold, calculating — exactly what he needed.
Yes, Svetlana might betray him someday.
But betrayal only mattered when the betrayer had power.
And William intended to build an empire where betrayal wasn't an option.
"You don't have to pay anything.
We're talking about business — voluntary, mutually beneficial, equal exchange."
A system chime cut through his thoughts:
Ding! New mission detected: Prepare Svetlana to become your loyal South Side Arms Queen.
Reward: Military Procurement Marketplace.
(A digital black-market mall where weapons can be exchanged with currency.)
William almost laughed.
So the system wanted him to become a full-blown arms kingpin?
Fine.
In America, no one thrived doing only legitimate business.
To survive you had to walk both worlds — the legal and the criminal.
Otherwise the government crushed you
or the gangs gunned you down.
And William wanted neither.
So the Russian girl tonight?
Whether she accepted or not…
she was going to accept.
His gaze shifted — playful on the surface, predatory underneath.
He was already planning contingency methods if she refused. He even wondered how well that palm-oil leather whip would work on someone like Svetlana.
She noticed the change instantly.
Her heart jolted.
Moments ago he'd said there was no price… "equal exchange"…
but now the look in his eyes suggested that refusal was not on the table.
She swallowed.
"I'm guessing… I don't actually have the option to refuse, right?"
Svetlana froze for a second, and William laughed softly.
"That reaction right there—that's why I chose you."
He tossed her a roll of Franklins. Not much by cartel standards, but enough to make an immigrant sex worker tremble.
"Take it. Go to Sasha and buy back your freedom."
Three thousand dollars.
It wasn't a fortune, but it was more than Sasha had ever paid for her, and certainly enough to cut ties.
Svetlana held the money for a long moment.
This wasn't just cash—it was a door.
William added, his voice flat and confident:
"After you're free, come to the back door of the coffee parlor."
He stood, turned, and walked out without looking back.
Svetlana stared at the money clenched in her hand.
This was a chance to rewrite her fate. Whether she grabbed it or not was entirely on her.
But Svetlana was not the type to sit and fantasize. She gritted her teeth.
Worst-case scenario? She ends up working in a different dump, jerking off different strangers.
Nothing to lose.
Screw it.
She marched out of her booth.
---
Time slipped by quickly.
After buying herself out of Sasha's ownership, Svetlana did exactly as instructed and went to the rear exit of the parlor.
William was leaning casually against the wall when she stepped out.
He smiled.
"Good choice.
Come on—we're picking someone up."
He started walking. Svetlana followed without another word.
On the way, William asked:
"You got a place to live right now?"
"No."
Sasha's girls were allowed to sleep in the parlor dorms.
Now freed, Svetlana officially had nowhere.
"2118 North Wallace. That's my property. House is still under construction.
Until then, get a room at a motel. I'll cover it.
Once the house is ready, you move in."
It sounded generous, but William wasn't being charitable — it was strategy.
He had future plans for 2118, and he needed Svetlana there when the time came.
A short walk later, they arrived in front of the cellar door of Karina's underground apartment.
Svetlana finally asked:
"Who are we getting?"
"You'll see."
William descended the stairs and pounded on the rusty metal door.
Inside, the bed was still very active. Frank Gallagher had stamina, there was no denying that.
No answer.
William pounded again.
A shout came from inside:
"Son of the beach! Who the hell is banging out there?"
A moment later the door swung open — and there stood Frank, shirtless, sweaty, and proud.
"Hi, Frank."
William flashed a bright Hollywood smile.
BOOM.
A fist the size of a cinder block smashed into Frank's face.
At the same time, William silently activated Disease Transference, returning the erectile dysfunction back to Frank's body.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!"
Frank clutched his eye socket in shock.
"Relax. I'm just punching you on Fiona's behalf.
Anyway—carry on. I won't interrupt your bonding."
William shut the door in his face before Frank could reply.
He walked off with Svetlana.
Behind them, Frank stood dazed.
"What the…? Did he seriously just come here to punch me? God… damn it. Fine. For the money I'll let it go."
He turned back toward the bed where Karina was still sprawled naked.
"Baby, where were we?"
Ten minutes later—
"Cyka blyat… don't tell me you're already done?"
Karina stared at him with disgust.
"Hell NO! I am NOT— I WAS FINE TEN MINUTES AGO! I— WHAT IS GOING ON?!"
He tried everything.
Imagery, memory, fantasies—nothing.
The dysfunction finally activated.
---
Meanwhile, William and Svetlana were already at a cheap motel.
"You'll stay here for now. Anything you need, ask me.
You're part of my business now."
Svetlana scanned the room.
It wasn't luxury, but compared to the rat-infested parlor dorms, this was paradise.
"It's a good room. I'm satisfied. Thank you… boss."
Smart woman.
She had already stepped into her new role.
"Great. You rest. I'll be back later."
William left the room, already thinking ahead.
He needed to move the weapons from his storage space—preferably all at once—but a warehouse was impossible right now.
House at 2118 wasn't built yet.
So for the moment, he would have to give Svetlana one bag at a time to sell.
He stepped out of the motel.
And before he'd gone even two steps…
Two Black men in wavy-top hats were walking straight toward him.