Page 136 of My Broken Bodyguard 2: Ritchie & Tori

Ritchie leaned over and kissed me softly. “Yup, we sedated you ladies,” he said, his tone steady but firm.

“Ritchie,” I growled, my voice rising with irritation.

“After you’re done with Tyra, once and for all, you’re coming back to Jersey for a while,” he declared. “You can meet with your therapist over Zoom.”

Silence stretched between us as I tried to process his words.

“I understand, Ritchie,” I said finally, the fight in me momentarily dimmed.

He took my hand, his expression softening. “We’re going to start working on a family.”

“Ritchie, I told you we should wait,” I protested.

His smile faltered, replaced by something heavier. “Arlis ran a few tests,” he said quietly. “That bullet you took... it’ll make it harder for you to have children. It doesn’t mean it’s impossible, but we’ll have to work at it. It might take time before we see a positive pregnancy test.”

I blinked, stunned. “But I was wearing a bulletproof vest,” I murmured.

“Tori, at this point, we need body armor designed to protect every inch of you,” he said firmly. “I won’t risk your life like that again.”

His voice softened, but the weight of his words didn’t lessen. “Arlis has scheduled surgery to repair the damage. And don’t go stomping Tyra’s chest when you torture her, okay?”

I blinked a few times, trying to wrap my head around everything he’d just said.

“I’ll be right back,” he stated, standing abruptly and stalking out of the room.

Left alone with my thoughts, they wandered back to Tyra. That bitch had shot me in my left breast. I hoped I could still breastfeed.

Yanking the hospital gown down to expose my breast, I winced at the sight of the nasty bruise marring my skin. The pain was dull, likely muted by the medication coursing through my veins.

Even though I hadn’t felt ready to have a baby, the thought of losing the chance at motherhood stung in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I could almost see it—a little one who was a perfect mix of Ritchie and me.

Tyra had nearly stolen that dream from me.

And for that, she would pay dearly.

EPILOGUE

TORI

DEALING WITH THE ENEMY

As much as I desired my husband, I was in no condition to have sex at the moment, but that didn’t stop him from pleasing me. A smile hung on my lips while I sat on the bench in the shower watching Ritchie carefully clean my body from head-to-toe. After rinsing the soap off my cinnamon skin, he widened my thighs.

As he traced swirling patterns near the apex of my thighs, the heat and anticipation built within me. I watched as he dipped his head down, and his warm, skilled tongue circled my clit with precision, sending shivers down my spine.

“Ritchie,” I cried out as his lips and tongue explored me with a passion that left me breathless, tasting me like I was the sweetest fruit he’d ever known.

My fingers gripped the wooden shower bench for support as my body arched in response to the electric sensation that spread throughout me. My head tilted back, releasing a moan filled with pleasure.

A sly smile curved my lips as I snapped back to the present, my gaze locking on Tyra.

She sat up straight, chest heaving, in a mahogany wooden chair, stripped down to a purple bra and matching panties that complemented her long, intricately braided hair. The color was vibrant, but it couldn’t distract from her current predicament. Zip ties secured her ankles to the front legs of the chair, her bare feet planted on a large plastic sheet spread across the floor.

Drops of blood escaped the bandaged wound on her leg, the crimson stream carving a stark contrast against her brown skin. Her wrist was zip-tied tightly to one arm of the chair, while her bandaged hand—damaged and useless—rested limply in her lap.

Her brown eyes still held deep anger and resentment. She wasn’t the untouchable bitch anymore. Not here. Not now.

“My husband knows exactly how to ease my mind,” I began, my voice calm yet brimming with unspoken power. “He was supposed to be in Jersey, performing his bodyguard duties for the Esposito mafia boss, but he flew back to Chicago on his private jet... just to make sure I was okay.”

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