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"The newlyweds will now have their first dance," announces the DJ.
“All right, Mrs. Pitucco, time to dance. Your food will be here when you return.”
She pokes out her bottom lip. “It will be cold.”
I signal for the nearby server's attention.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Pitucco?" She asks in a respectful tone.
"Please take my wife's plate and place it in the warmer," I reply, gesturing towards Kinsley's half-eaten meal.
"Consider it done." The server picks up Kinsley's plate and heads towards the kitchen, with Cylinder following closely behind her.
We keep Kinsley's food in a special warmer that requires a code to open. Only he and I have the code. In the mafia underworld, trust is hard to come by and you never know when someone close to you will betray you.
I stand up and take my wife's hand in mine.
Holding onto Kinsley's hand tightly, I guide her to the center of the dance floor.
A slow ballad fills the room, and I pull her close to me, wrapping my arms around her waist as she clasps her hands behind my neck.
“Mrs. Pitucco,” I say with a smile.
“I can't believe I'm married to Nickulas Pitucco, the man I once loved,” she says.
We both laugh. "I remember you telling me how much you loved me when we were making love in that spooning position you enjoy so much."
Kinsley throws her head back and laughs. “I do love the sex with you, Nick. Always have.”
I grip her chin up and kiss her deeply. "And I love it too."
Our tongues entwine as we continue dancing to the music.
Kinsley moans softly against my lips before breaking away with a dreamy look on her face.
“It’s ok, I know you love me,” I tell her.
As the song ends, we make our way over to the cake table.
Kinsley picks up the cake server, and I place my hand over hers as we cut a slice of cake together.
I feed her a small bite of the decadent vanilla cake, and she practically moans with delight. She grins and reaches for another piece, eager to return the favor. But before she can, the ground beneath us starts trembling and the chandeliers overhead sway violently. The room erupts into chaos as guests scream and scramble for safety.
I reach for Kinsley's hand and yell, “Baby, take my hand.”
She frantically tries to steady herself by holding out her arms, terror etched on her face.
“I can't do it, Nick!” she cries, desperation in her voice.
In a horrifying turn of events, the ground beneath Kinsley's feet gives way, and she falls into darkness.
Her scream echoes through the room as my heart sinks to the floor. Without hesitation, I drop to my knees and try to follow her.
But strong hands grab onto my shoulders and pull me back.
"Let me go! I have to save my wife," I shout, struggling against their grip.
"Boss, the rope is on its way," Ezra says calmly.
