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.
I could’ve lost Vittoria.
I let go of her hand, and gripping her shoulders, I pull her into my arms.
Feeling how limp she is, shreds my soul into an unrecognizable mess. “Christ, baby,” I groan. “Open your beautiful eyes.”
There’s a knock at the door, which has me laying her back down. I make sure she’s covered before I get up.
“Come in.”
Big Ricky opens the door, and Dr. Barnes comes into the room. I have the man on my payroll in case any of my men need medical assistance or to remove bullets.
“Afternoon, Mr. Rizzo. What can I do for you?”
I gesture at Vittoria. “My wife passed out three hours ago and hasn’t regained consciousness.”
He moves closer, and opening his medical bag, he removes a stethoscope. “Did Mrs. Rizzo show any signs of illness before she fainted?”
“She experienced something traumatic,” I answer vaguely.
“No injuries?” he asks as he listens to her breathing and heartbeat. “No.”
“Is she pregnant?”
My eyes flick to Vittoria as I reply, “I don’t know. There’s a possibility, though.”
I watch as Dr. Barnes takes her blood pressure, and when he’s done examining her, he looks at me. “Her blood pressure is a little low. My guess is she’s exhausted and just needs rest.” He glances at Vittoria again. “I’ll set an IV to get some fluids into her.”
I stare at Vittoria as I ask, “Her blood pressure is a little low?”
He nods as he climbs to his feet. “She just needs rest and to take it easy for a few days, but I’ll check on her again. Let me know if her condition changes.” He locks eyes with me. “You said she suffered trauma, so I’d recommend she speak with a therapist.”
“That’s something I’ll worry about once she’s woken up.” I let out a sigh. “How long will she be on the IV?”
“The saline bag will be empty in forty-five minutes, then you can remove the needle.” He glances between Big Ricky and me. “You’ve done it before, right?”
We both nod. We’ve dealt with one of the guys being on an IV a few times in the past.
We watch as Dr. Barns sets up the IV, and I hate when the needle pricks her skin. He gestures for Big Ricky to keep the bag raised above Vittoria.
“Thanks, Doc.” I nod as I glance at Big Ricky. “Pay Dr. Barnes and show him out.” I take the IV bag from him and sit down next to Vittoria.
Dr. Barnes tips his head at me before he leaves the room with Big Ricky.
My phone starts to vibrate, and I quickly pull the device out of my pocket. Seeing Damiano’s name flashing on the screen, I answer, “Hey, I found Vittoria.”
“Good. When will you be back?” “I’m already home,” I inform him. “We’re coming over.”
Before I can tell him not to bother, he hangs up.
Letting out a tired sigh, I lean over my wife and press a kiss to her lips while making sure to hold the IV fluids above her like Dr. Barnes demonstrated.
Wake up, baby. My soul won’t rest until I see your beautiful smile again.
My eyes drift over every inch of her face, and intense pain slashes through my heart when I think how close I came to losing her.
I’m never leaving you alone again.
“Can I get you anything?” Big Ricky suddenly asks, his tone tense with worry.
I get up and shake my head. “I need you to stay with Vittoria. Damiano and the others are on their way.” I look at Vittoria again before I say, “Call me the second she wakes up.”
“Okay.” He takes the bag from me, and as I pause beside him, I place my hand on his shoulder and lock eyes with him. “Thank you.”
This man is one of the most important people in my life, and I’ll never be able to repay him for everything he’s done for me.
He nods as he murmurs, “Anything for you.”
Leaving the bedroom, I shrug out of my jacket as I head down the stairs.
With everything that’s happened the past two days, I feel unsettled and irritable as fuck.
I toss the jacket over the back of the couch, and before I can sit down, I hear the front door open.
Damiano, Renzo, Franco, and Dario rush into the living room, and I take a moment to shake their hands. Dario is the only fucker who hugs me. The main doesn’t give a shit about personal space.
“What the fuck happened?” Damiano asks.
Franco walks to the side table and pours five tumblers of whiskey. “Everyone helps themselves. I’m not a waiter.”
We all grab a tumbler, and I quickly down the burning liquid before pouring more into the glass.
I glance between my friends, then shake my head. “I don’t know the full story yet.” I walk to the couch and slump down on it. “Christ.”
They all take a seat, their eyes locked on my face.
Shrugging, I shake my head again. “When we got to Sicily, everything was fine. My uncle and aunt were happy to see us. I left Vittoria with them so I could go to a meeting, but before I got to Sangrioti, I got a hysterical call from my aunt.” I take a sip of the alcohol before I continue, “She said Vittoria tried to run away, and when they locked her in a room, she shoved Uncle Maurizio over the balcony.”
They all look at me with shock on their faces.
“Seriously? Vittoria killed Maurizio?” Renzo asks.
I shake my head. “No, she could never commit murder. I’m waiting to hear her side of the story.”
“Where is she?” Damiano asks.
“She’s passed out upstairs.” I lean back against the couch. “Big Ricky is watching over her.”
“Maybe she killed Maurizio by accident?” Franco asks.
I shrug. “It’s a possibility. We all know Maurizio had a quick temper. He could’ve attacked her, and she fought him off.” I narrow my eyes. “No, Maurizio would’ve killed her. He’s stronger than her.” I rub a hand over my face. “Fuck. I just want her to wake up.”
“You said your aunt is dead as well,” Damiano mutters. “How did she die?”
“She tried to feed me a pathetic lie, and when I called her out, she admitted they wanted me to marry Valentina Toscano. They tried to get rid of Vittoria.” I suck in a deep breath of air as I recall what happened.
“Angelo,” Dario says, and I realize my thoughts drifted off.
I clear my throat before I down the rest of the whiskey. “Aunt Gloria tried to pull a gun on me, and Big Ricky killed her.”
“Christ,” Franco mutters. “That’s fucked up shit.” “Yeah.” Renzo shakes his head in disbelief.
“I’msorry,brother.”Damianogivesmeacompassionatelook. “Sometimes the ones closest to us become the biggest threats.”
Truer words have never been spoken.
We’re all quiet for a moment before Damiano says, “You should take a few days off. We’ll keep an eye on your businesses.”
I shake my head. “I can’t ask that of you.”
“You’re not asking shit of us,” Renzo grumbles. “We’re offering. This is how the brotherhood works.”
“I’ll take care of the club,” Dario chuckles.
“Leave the strippers alone,” I playfully warn him.
“Hey, if they throw themselves at me, who am I to say no,” he jokes. “I’ll check in with Salvatore and the fleet,” Renzo offers.
“I’ll keep an eye on the restaurant,” Franco quickly stakes his claim. “Let Eddie know he can contact me if he needs help with something.”
When my eyes lock with Damiano, he says, “My ass will keep an eye on you to make sure you get some rest.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Thanks, brothers.”
This is what makes the Cosa Nostra so fucking strong – the fact that we have each other's backs.
Together, we’re unbeatable.