CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
MY WEDDING PRESENT
BIANCA
T he expressions on my family’s faces spoke volumes.My brothers were in awe, clearly thinking Catch and his crew were total badasses. Even Catch’s dad, who had fired a few shots from under the table to protect us, earned their admiration. Catch’s mom gripped her Glock with practiced ease, mirroring my own firm hold on mine. My mother’s gaze lingered on me, a mix of shock and understanding in her eyes. She’d never actually seen me with a gun before, though she’d found one in my belongings when I was sixteen. While she was upset that I carried a weapon, she also understood that in our neighborhood, it was necessary for protection.
She probably never thought I’d need to carry a weapon after leaving the South Side of Chicago. Now that I was married to a mafia man, I’d have to carry one for the rest of my life. I knew this wasn’t the life my parents had envisioned for me. However, I had no doubt that my husband would go to great lengths to protect me.
WHEN CATCH ARRIVED at Ritchie and Tori’s suite, my dad had some choice words for him.
“Are you a bodyguard or a mafia boss?” Dad asked, his tone sharp.
Catch met his gaze without flinching. “My family allegedly has deep mafia ties,” he said evenly.
Laurena chimed in, her voice calm but assertive. "My father, Nico Sr., was the alleged boss of the Pitucco family. You can look it up."
She turned to Catch with a proud glint in her eyes. “My son and daughter are royalty. Everyone wants a piece of the Pitucco pie.”
Her gaze softened as she addressed him. “You’ll talk to Nick, right?”
“Of course, Mom,” Catch replied without hesitation.
A satisfied smile spread across her face as she linked arms with Callum Sr. “That’s what I like to hear,” she remarked warmly.
Laurena pulled me into a hug, then embraced Catch. “You two should get going.”
Callum Sr. leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Have a good night,” he said with a kind smile.
“I will,” I replied, feeling a little lighter as we stepped away.
Laurena glanced at my dad. “To ensure your safety, four bodyguards will be assigned to protect your family. Two of them will accompany you tonight, while the other two will guard your hotel room and watch over your sons. Ask for the manager at any casino on the strip. Tell them Laurena Pitucco said to set you up. They’ll know what that means. And if you happen to lose too much money at the tables, Valle will step in and cut you off.” With a smile, they left the suite.
After kissing my family goodbye, Catch and I left as well.
Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at a warehouse in Reno.
"I thought you had sent Melina home," I remarked.
"I did," he confirmed, stepping out of the backseat of the silver Rolls Royce limo.
Catch circled around the car and held my door open for me. One of Catch and Ritchie's many men was our chauffeur for the day.
After helping me out of the car, Catch paused at the driver's door. The heat in Las Vegas was scorching. The sun beat down on my back like it was trying to sear through my skin.
"Lift, keep watch. We'll be out in a moment."
"On it, Catch."
Why was his name Lift? Probably because he was built like a wide receiver and could probably lift the car if needed.
Catch intertwined our fingers as we made our way towards the entrance. He pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.
The white warehouse was massive, almost half the size of a football stadium. It was surrounded by other warehouses in the industrial park, but there was plenty of space between each one.
"Are you opening a casino?" I asked, taking in the sight.
He glanced at me with darkening gray eyes. "Any property I purchase now that we're married is ours." His lips brushed against mine.
"Everything I own is now ours," he asserted.
I gasped in surprise. "Callum?"
“Don’t argue with me, Mrs. Rizzo.”
The biggest smile curled my lips. “I love when you call me Mrs. Rizzo.”
“I love calling you Mrs. Rizzo. As soon as we’re done here, we’re going to fuck and make love all night.” He took my lips in a bruising kiss.
I was breathless by the time he released my lips. “Now come on. Let’s get this business handled so I can handle your fine ass later.”
I giggled as we walked inside.
Two figures sat rigidly on wooden chairs in the center of the enormous warehouse.
“Catch, what the fuck?” The words fell from my lips as I tried to process the scene before me.
My feet felt like lead weights, refusing to budge from the unforgiving cement floor.
“Come on, Mrs. Rizzo.”
“Catch, what have you done?”
“Bombshell, it’s your wedding gift.”
There were two people with black cloth bags over their faces.
He said it’s my wedding gift.
“Take a peek,” Catch urged.
I stalked across the plastic sheet covering the floor. It was best I removed the sacks like removing Band-Aids from scabs.
I tore the bags off their heads, quickly.
Stepping back, my lips parted.
“How? When? Why?” I asked.
“You said you wanted to take care of him yourself. I’m taking care of Stevie. He should’ve been disposed of back on the South Side. Hey, better late than never,” Catch chuckled.
With a muffled and angry growl, my captive spat out, "Fucking bitch."
Catch reacted in an instant, plunging a switchblade into the man's thigh.
His eyes widened as he yelled around the gag.
I reached out to remove the gag from his mouth.
“Don’t touch him without gloves. Your gear is inside the third room on your left.”
He curled his gloved hand around mine and led me into the room.
“I’ll unzip you,” Catch stated.
It seemed Catch considered letting me get undressed on my own. Guess he changed his mind.
Once in the room, he unzipped the back of my dress. “What’s the beef between you two anyway?”
My eyes squeezed shut. “I hid behind my eyeglasses for years hoping it would hide me from the sharks. No such luck. It was like men figured I was a freak in the bedroom because I wore glasses. An undercover freak.” I shook my head.
“It felt like they attracted the freaks and weirdos with fetishes. I still wear them sometimes. They are a part of my identity. Why should I have to change how I look for others?”
I palmed my stomach and paced the room. “You know what HQ and his friends did to me. GT wasn’t any better. He was the man in my neighborhood. He ran the drugs on our block. He wanted me to be his sex slave.”
Catch pulled my back against his chest. “You’re my sex kitten. Not my sex slave.”
“Being with you, Catch, makes me feel cherished and adored. You are the only one I want. Those other men lusted after me in their twisted fantasies. They saw all women as mere objects for their pleasure. I was not the only one they targeted. But I was the one who finally said enough is enough. It didn't matter if I found them repulsive; they felt entitled to take what they wanted. And when I resisted, some of them resorted to violence, leaving me bruised and bloodied while they jacked off and came on my body.”
Catch’s lips brushed my collarbone. “Who abused you, Bianca?”
If I told Catch what GT did, he’d cut him up into tiny pieces. I wouldn’t be able to stop him.
I stepped away and peeled the tight gown off my skin allowing it to pool around my feet.
“How many more men hurt you, Bianca?”
I yanked off my stilettos. “I’m in a position of power now. No one can say I stole money from Man-Man and hold it over my head anymore.”
Catch’s brows lifted like he just figured out who I was talking about.
He stripped off his tuxedo and gritted his teeth. "I'm going to fucking kill him."
Catch wasted no time changing into his black torture gear.
I hurried to keep up, throwing on a pair of black cargo pants and a matching t-shirt. “But you said you brought him here for me.”
“Fuck!” He let out a fierce roar of frustration and anger. It was clear that he was in pain.
“I knew you were hiding shit from me.” Catch grabbed his sniper rifle out of the case.
My eyes widened. “You don’t have to kill every man who’s ever wronged me,” I said as I slipped on my boots.
“Yes, I do. Not one slimy asshole gets to live on this earth if he hurt you.”
Catch shoved his blond curls into his bouffant cap and darted out the door.
I felt warm and fuzzy inside. My husband would kill every man who did me wrong. Damn, if that wasn’t satisfying, I didn’t know what was.
Shoving the oversized leather gloves onto my hands, I glanced at the imprint of my huge diamond wedding ring pushing against the fabric. Figured he bought the gloves two sizes too big, so I didn’t have to take off my wedding ring. I shook my head as I ran after Catch.
My husband pointed his sniper rifle at GT’s foot. “You sick asshole. You think it’s ok to beat women and attempt to rape them?”
Catch’s eyes were wild behind the goggles he wore.
"I have no idea what she may have told you. All I know is that she wanted it,” GT sneered.
Catch's response was to raise the rifle, aiming directly at GT's face.
That was it. Psychotic Catch just arrived. He was ready to kill.
Stevie cried like a bitch as he watched everything unfold.
“Catch, please no,” I shouted.