Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Hey,” the cab driver shouts. “Come back here.”
Not caring, I run into oncoming traffic. Cars swerve to avoid me, and tires screech.
“Vittoria!” I hear Angelo shout really close behind me.
No.
It feels as if everything slows down, and a memory of Angelo looking at me with love flashes through my mind’s eye.
I feel his lips on mine.
I hear him chuckle.
I let out a blood-curdling cry as absolute devastation rips through my soul.
A car honks, and as my eyes snap in the direction of the alarming sound, it’s to see the vehicle speeding toward me.
Suddenly, I’m grabbed from behind. My feet leave the ground, and I’m swung out of the way of the speeding car.
“Noooooooooo! No-no-no-no!” I scream, the terror I’ve experienced since Maurizio’s death becoming too much to handle. It feels like I’m losing my mind.
Angelo’s voice rumbles like thunder, “I’ve got you.”
My vision blurs as I’m tossed over his shoulder, and the last thing I see are tire marks on the road before I pass out.
Chapter 33
Angelo
Feeling Vittoria’s body go limp over my shoulder, I hurry toward the SUV.
Big Ricky has his weapon drawn to handle anyone who tries to intervene.
“Hey! What are you doing with that girl?” A woman shouts.
“Mind your own fucking business,” Big Ricky growls.
The way Vittoria screamed still echoes through my mind, and it’s easily the most haunting thing I’ve ever heard.
Lowering Vittoria from over my shoulder, I quickly pick her up bridal style and climb into the backseat of the SUV. “Let’s go!”
Big Ricky slides behind the steering wheel, and within seconds, we’re speeding away from the traffic we caused.
Vittoria’s body is limp in my hold, and as I look at her face, my heart breaks when I notice how pale she is.
“Baby,” I whisper.
She’s been through so much. Just thinking about the trauma she’s suffered has rage burning in my veins.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur as I brush wild curls away from her face. I pull her closer to my chest and hold her tightly as Big Ricky drives toward the airfield.
When I shift her into a more comfortable position, I tug her handbag’s strap over her head and drop the bag on the floor.
Bringing my hand to her pale face, I tenderly brush my fingers over her cheek.
“You’re safe,” I whisper.
Bent over my wife, I press my mouth to her forehead. I close my eyes and thank all that’s holy she’s safely back in my arms.
I’m never leaving her alone again. Either Tiny, Big Ricky or myself will be with her at all times.
When the SUV stops near the private jet, I wait for Big Ricky to open the door before I climb out of the vehicle with Vittoria in my arms.
He gives her a worried look. “Jesus, boss.”
“Let’s get her home,” I mutter.
We board the plane and don’t give a fuck about rules, I refuse to let go of my wife to put on a seat belt. Sitting down, I cradle her on my lap.
It’s a short flight back to New York, and by the time I carry Vittoria into our home, I’m fucking exhausted.
“Call a doctor,” I order Big Ricky.
I expected Vittoria to regain consciousness on the plane, but she’s still out cold, and it worries the hell out of me.
“On it,” he says as I leave him in the living room.
I take Vittoria to our bedroom and carefully lay her down on the bed.
Taking off her shoes, I toss them to the side.
“The doctor is on his way,” Big Ricky informs me.
“Good. Shut the door and wait downstairs for him.”
When I hear the bedroom door close, I head to the walk-in closet and pull one of my shirts from a hanger. I return to Vittoria’s unconscious body, and sitting down beside her, I carefully remove her dress and underwear.
I’m fucking relieved when I don’t see any bruises on her body.
Once I have her in my shirt, I go to the bathroom to wet a washcloth. My eyes lock on my reflection in the mirror, and I swear it looks like I’ve aged ten years from worrying about Vittoria’s safety.
Heading back into the bedroom, I sit down beside her and tenderly wipe down her arms, legs, and feet.
My first instinct is to take care of her, and knowing there’s not much more I can do, I feel frustrated as fuck. I pull the covers over her before I take hold of her limp hand, holding it in both of mine.
I press my mouth to her fingers. “Wake up, baby.” A breath shudders from me. “Please wake up.”
Now that I have Vittoria back, my thoughts spiral down a dark tunnel, and I think about everything that could’ve gone wrong.
Uncle Maurizio could’ve killed her.
She could’ve been grabbed by any of my enemies while she was running.
I could’ve been too late, and that fucking car could’ve hit her.