CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

RITCHIE

THE EVENING IS OURS

B rock and the other guys remained behind at the reception venue and took care of cleanup.

Catch had one of the guys fly to Baltimore with Melina and drop her off. She would be out of our hair for now. The Pitucco mafia family was taking the war to Baltimore. We’d destroy the Massa mafia family before they could alert our bosses. Just more territory for the Pituccos.

The girls were in my suite at the Bellagio with Bianca’s family and my aunt and uncle.

I peeked at Catch to my left. “What’s on your mind?”

“That asshole ruined my fucking reception,” Catch growled.

My heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “They didn’t. We had a great time before the servers turned on us.”

We chuckled.

“Yeah, we did,” Catch admitted.

“Everything worked out. You and Bianca get to enjoy your wedding night.”

He rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait.”

The doors slid open, and we stepped into the suite.

“Ezra, is everything ok?” I asked.

“Yes, boss. The Landry family has since calmed down,” he noted as his eyes fell on Bianca’s parents.

They wanted their daughter to marry a respectable man. Not a mobster.

“Catch,” Bianca shouted as she ran toward him.

It seemed we couldn’t help who we loved.

Tori strolled towards me, her fingers playing with each other nervously.

This was just more trauma to dump on my woman. It wasn’t like she couldn’t handle it. But I’d been shot and almost killed in two explosions.

“You’re okay,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around me.

“Yes, I’m all right.” I squeezed her tightly with my good arm.

Was I really fine? No.

Earlier, while searching for the remaining attackers with Catch, I had been stabbed. We split up and as I turned left, a man appeared out of nowhere and plunged a knife into my arm.

Hopefully, my new injury wouldn’t send my woman into a breakdown.

A numbing, tingling sensation skated up and down my arm under my tuxedo jacket.

Shit, I need to wrap my arm now.

I peeked to my right.

Catch could barely keep his lips off of Bianca’s. “It’s time to go, bombshell.”

Clutching Bianca’s hand, he stalked toward their family.

“Hey, baby?” I peered down at Tori.

“Yes?”

“How about we go out for dinner?”

“I’d love that. I’m starving,” she admitted.

I chuckled.

My woman could eat. I loved that about her.

“I’ll be right back.” She bounced over to the girls. Bianca managed to tear herself away from Catch to talk with her best friends.

“Are we clear?” Romeo asked as he walked toward me with Rémy and Ezra at his side.

“Yes, guys, enjoy a night on the town with your women,” I said. “We’re in Vegas, baby.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Rémy hooted with joy.

Ezra’s shoulders relaxed. “Sounds like a plan. If you need me, call. Other than that, I’ll be ready for duty Sunday night to fly back to Chicago.”

I slapped Ezra’s cheek twice. “Thanks.”

Knowing I had to leave my woman and fly back to New Jersey didn’t sit well with me. But I’d been on sabbatical long enough. Tori would stake out Lexis’s house while I was away. That would be a big help. Brock would also. The girls had a lot of shit happening in Chicago. Not sure when the next shit storm would end. And there was no telling what else would happen after everyone realized Daryl wasn’t holding down the South Side anymore.

The guys and I watched as the girls hugged.

After we all said our goodbyes, it was just me and Tori left in our oversized hotel suite.

Just like it would be Tori alone in our oversized house while I was away. At least she’d be surrounded by guards.

She kicked off her stilettos. “I’m switching these out for sneakers.

“Can we compromise?” I planted my lips on her neck.

“Ok,” she giggled.

“Wear a pair of cute sandals. We’re going to an upscale Italian restaurant.”

Her hand squeezed my ass. “Let me guess, I should wear a cute short dress too.”

“Hell, yeah,” I moaned.

“I can do that,” she purred.

Tori’s smile widened as she stepped back, her eyes scanning my body with a playful look. “Let’s change out of these clothes and hop in the shower,” she suggested.

But I stood tall, my expression serious as I held her gaze. “Tori, I don’t want to alarm you.”

Her eyes widened with concern. “What’s wrong?” Her tone was calm, but I could sense the worry in her voice.

I slowly backed towards the bedroom, feeling her eyes following me intently. “I have another injury,” I admitted.

Without hesitation, Tori pulled at my shirt and unfastened the velcro straps on my bulletproof vest. Her chest rose and fell as she examined my previous injuries. “Show me now, Ritchie,” she demanded.

I winced as I tried to remove my jacket from my shoulder. “Ah, damn it,” I grunted in pain.

Tori gingerly removed my tuxedo jacket, revealing a blood-soaked white dress shirt sleeve. Her expression turned to one of shock and concern.

“Oh my God, it’s really bad, Ritchie,” she said.

But she didn’t let panic take over; instead, she took my good hand in hers and led me to the bathroom, drops of blood trailing behind us.

“Does your arm feel numb?” she asked.

“Somewhat?”

“Ritchie, sit on the toilet.”

I lowered the toilet seat and sat down.

Tori worked fast getting me out of my white dress shirt and bullet-proof vest. She grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and placed it on the counter.

“I can’t believe you were going to try to hide this injury from me,” she scolded.

“Tori, I’ve been injured so many times. I didn’t want to worry you.”

She placed a comforting hand on my jaw. “You came back to me. That’s what matters. I can sew the wound and bandage your arm.”

Tori disappeared briefly and returned with a bottle of whiskey.

“Drink up,” she said with a small smile.

After downing the whiskey, I watched as Tori lovingly stitched up my wound.

“All right, big guy. We’re going to take a shower, a nap, then we’ll enjoy a late dinner.”

“At least order room service for now,” I told her.

“Ok, fine,” she muttered.

“How’s your arm?” she asked as we walked down the strip.

“We’ve only walked for ten minutes. You’ve asked twice about my arm.”

“That’s because you waited too long to stop the bleeding. You can’t hide things from me. If I’m going to have an attack, so be it. It’s a part of who I am. Hopefully, after I see the therapist, the panic attacks won’t happen that often.”

My jaw ticked as I listened.

Tori leaned into my side and rested my injured arm on her hip. “Does what I said make you upset?”

“No. I hate that I won’t be there when the attacks happen.”

Her hand smoothed over my abs through the navy dress shirt. “If I lived in New Jersey, you would be at work, Ritchie. You wouldn’t be able to help me either way.”

I bit down on my lower lip because she was right. “I’d still prefer you live with me in Jersey.”

“Ritchie, I know. In time,” she said.

As we approached, the ma?tre D opened the door for us with a polite smile. "Welcome, my name is Woody," he greeted us.

I gave him the name under which I made the reservation. Brock strode past us to inspect the restaurant.

"Sir?" Woody called after him.

“Woody, don’t worry about him,” I said. “I already talked to the chef. He’s aware my bodyguard will sweep the premises. He said whatever the grandson of Nico Pitucco wants, he gets.” I flashed a grin.

Terror filled his eyes. "Understood, Mr. Toscano," he managed to respond with a smile.

The mafia underworld ran a little different than the drug underworld. Our mob ties ran deep in Las Vegas and Hollywood. Mentioning you were the grandson of Nico Pitucco in this town got you respect.

My uncle Nickalas made sure grandfather’s name lived on. He named his youngest son after his father.

Woody knew not to ask again what Brock was doing.

He seated Tori and me in a corner booth in a dimly lit section of the restaurant.

I had a good view of the kitchen. The front door wasn’t a major concern to me because I knew Brock would keep an eye out.

Woody placed the menus in front of us.

“The server will be right with you,” he said.

“Thank you,” I stated before he walked away.

I squeezed Tori’s thigh under the table. Fuck, she looked gorgeous in the tiny, gold shimmery dress. I couldn’t wait to get her out of it later. But for now, I’d have my fun under the tablecloth.