"The weather here is really nice, dear. How about we buy a luxury home here in a couple of years?"
"Sure, should we buy in Los Angeles first or here?"
"Em~ Los Angeles!"
"Haha, then you'll need to work hard and make a lot of money."
"Of course, we're here to make big money this time."
In early March, on Fremont Street in the southeastern area of Las Vegas, the sun was shining brightly. This place has a subtropical desert climate, and it's three to four hundred miles from the west coast city of Los Angeles, with a significant difference in weather. By March, the weather starts to heat up, with average temperatures above twenty degrees Celsius.
Richard, Ms. Bündchen, Angela, Ambrosio, and Mike had just come out of the Las Vegas Fashion Show Center after shopping, and the heat hit them.
"There's a Venetian restaurant over there. It looks pretty good. Want to take a break?"
Angela, holding the brim of her hat, pointed to a themed restaurant across the street.
"Okay, we've been walking around for a while. A break sounds good."
"I'll go get the car."
Mike said.
"Alright!"
Mike carried a few shopping bags to the adjacent parking lot.
Richard and the three beautiful women walked into the Venetian-themed restaurant.
Richard had come early at Don King's invitation for training and promotion. Little Roy Jones was also there. Because Las Vegas frequently hosts boxing matches and many boxers live there, the gyms are top-notch. Don King's gym was even more upscale, ensuring there wouldn't be incidents like punching bags bursting.
After a few days of practice, Ms. Bündchen and the others also came to participate in a fashion show. The Las Vegas Fashion Exhibition, founded in 1933, is the world's oldest professional clothing and fabric exhibition. By the 80s and 90s, it had developed into the most representative professional fashion exhibition in the United States, recognized as a 'weather vane' by the American fashion industry. Every year, renowned clothing brands hold new fashion shows there. Ms. Bündchen and the others were invited by Calvin Klein to walk in the new show.
Upon entering the Venetian restaurant, the air suddenly felt refreshingly cool. The Italian-style classical architecture looked very elegant. In the middle of the restaurant were over ten slender, exquisite Venetian gondolas. The dining tables were placed in the boats, surrounded by flowing water. In the center of the boats was a stage where the famous opera "Madame Butterfly" was being performed.
The restaurant was crowded, and it took a while for the four to find an empty seat.
"Be careful, the gondola is a bit wobbly,"
Richard warned, helping Ms. Bündchen sit down, with Angela and Ambrosio sitting opposite.
"Richard, you spent over three months in Italy. Any good food recommendations?"
Angela asked, holding the menu.
"There's Roman fried chicken, sweet and sour tuna, Sicilian smoked swordfish, seafood salad, tomato bass, braised pork, Milanese veal shank, Milanese fried steak, ham and cheese steak..."
"Wait, it's all meat?"
Angela frowned.
"Haha, Richard is a carnivore. A meal without meat is like not eating at all for him. Of course, he'd only remember the meat dishes,"
Ms. Bündchen laughed.
"Yes, I train every day. Without meat, where would I get the energy? You could start with a Misto platter – black caviar, grilled fish, pickled fish, ham, olives, marinated mushrooms. These are all good and come on one plate, so you can try a bit of everything."
"I know this. When we were doing shows in Milan, we had as much Italian cuisine as you did."
"Yes, I also learned several ways to cook fish, but due to limited ingredients, the results were not as authentic."
Mrs. Bündchen said.
"Alright, you guys are all food experts. With you here, I have no need to speak."
Richard shrugged.
"I'm not!"
Ambrosio laughed.
"You will be in the future."
Richard smiled and ordered a bottle of white wine from the Rhône Valley, filling the glasses of the three ladies.
After a while, the antipasto appetizers arrived, and the four of them chatted as they ate.
"Richard, these meat dishes are all for you. Eat more meat and take the competition seriously. This time, I'm betting on you to win."
Angela smiled.
"You're betting too?"
Richard asked as he cut the braised pork.
"Yes, Anan led me astray. She bet on you last time and won over two thousand. I got jealous and decided to place a bet too."
Angela blinked her fox-like eyes and smiled.
"Anan, thanks for the support!"
Richard raised his glass and smiled.
"You're welcome."
Ambrosio smiled.
"You guys are smarter than Bündchen. She knows I can win, but never places a bet. It's like having money and not picking it up, so silly."
Richard gently nudged Mrs. Bündchen.
"You're the silly one!"
Mrs. Bündchen elbowed him.
"Ha, Bündchen isn't silly. She has a gold mine by her side, so she doesn't care about a little money."
Angela joked.
"Gold mine?"
Richard shook his head, "I'm not the gold mine, Bündchen is. She's a strong woman who can make money and invest. In the future, she'll definitely be richer than me. When I retire, I'll rely on her earnings for my old age. Is that okay, Bündchen?"
"No problem!"
Mrs. Bündchen smiled and stuffed a piece of rice cake into his mouth.
"Can you two stop showing off your love? Anan and I are losing our appetite."
Angela complained.
"Here, have a drink to calm down!"
Ambrosio raised her glass and smiled.
"Okay!"
The two clinked glasses.
Richard smiled and clinked glasses with Bündchen too.
"Richard, your odds are a bit low this time. Winning only gets 1:1.5, so betting on you won't earn much. Can you increase your odds?"
Angela asked.
"No way. Speaking of this, I'm also annoyed. I've been playing the role of an arrogant and complacent person in front of the media recently, even hiring someone to spread the word about my lack of training after winning the championship, all to raise the odds a bit. But it didn't work. The bookmakers still think I have a better chance of winning."
Richard shook his head helplessly.
"Are you confident about winning this match?"
Angela blinked and asked.
"Yes, 100% confident."
Richard said, clenching his fist.
Angela looked at him, then at Ambrosio, "Pride comes before a fall. This time, I feel like he might lose."
Ambrosio smiled lightly, "I have that feeling too. I heard Roy Jones has been training hard recently, while Richard has been hanging out with Bündchen. If the world is fair and the motivational quotes we've learned are true, Richard should lose."
"So, should we bet on Roy Jones to win? Betting on him will earn more."
Angela blinked and smiled.
"Hey, you two, have a little faith in me, okay?"
Richard was displeased.
"We want to, but what we've learned since childhood is that a hardworking, persistent person will eventually defeat a lazy, indulgent one. Don't you think you and Roy Jones fit these two roles perfectly?"
"True, I think so too."
Mrs. Bündchen nodded.
"Hahaha~"
The three beautiful women laughed together.
Richard's face darkened, "I'm serious too, okay? It's just that you guys came over recently, and I..."
"Stop!"
Mrs. Bündchen raised her hand, "Don't use us as an excuse. Many men in history failed and blamed women. We've had enough of this. Please don't wrong us anymore, okay?"
"Haha, well said!"
Mrs. Bündchen's words resonated with Angela and Ambrosio, and they laughed together.
"Richard, we don't really need your company. Why don't you go back and train?"
Angela laughed.
"Richard, good luck!"
Ambrosio shook her fist.
Richard, eating steak, choked. He suddenly understood why men with many women in their lives might have shorter lifespans—probably out of frustration.
"Alright, since you think I'm unnecessary, I'll leave first."
Richard wiped his hands and stood up.
Bang!
Just then, a gunshot rang out in the restaurant, and everyone was stunned. Four masked men had barged into the restaurant.
"Everyone, sit down!"
"Hands up!"
"Hand over your valuables!"
The four masked robbers shouted loudly, brandishing guns.
Bang!
A waiter tried to run and was shot in the leg, blood flowing.
Ahhh~
The restaurant erupted into chaos.
"Cooperate, we only want money!"
The leader, wearing a white mask, stood on the stage and shouted.
Under the threat of four guns, the guests quieted down and handed over their wallets and valuables.
"This city never disappoints."
Richard smirked.
"Richard, what are you thinking? Don't be impulsive!"
Mrs. Bündchen held his arm nervously.
"Yes, Richard, we know you can fight, but they have guns. Don't be impulsive."
Angela said softly.
"I know!"
Richard had no intention of acting rashly. With three beautiful women by his side, he didn't want any of them to get hurt.
Moreover, this was the southeastern part of Las Vegas, where old man Don King had strong connections. Losing money might not even take half an hour to recover.
He was about to tell the three women to take out their wallets, reassuring them that they could get everything back soon, but noticed they were already ahead of him, moving faster with their wallets than he was.
"Wallets, your wallets, and your rings and watches, all into the bag!"
One of the robbers, wearing a red mask, waved his gun and carried a bag, collecting items from the door.
"Hurry up!"
The man in the white mask shouted, waving his gun.
"Faster!"
The red-masked robber impatiently waved his gun, speeding up the collection, as did the other two robbers.
"You four!"
The red-masked robber quickly reached Richard's table and, seeing the three women, got excited.
"Hey, boss, there are three hot chicks here!"
"Hey, man, your boss said only money. Can you be professional?"
Seeing the robber wanting to touch the women, Richard grabbed his wrist.
"Fuck, you dare to resist?!"
The red-masked robber got angry and pointed his gun at Richard's head, "Do you believe I'll shoot you? You're not a good guy, playing with three women!"
"Richard!"
Mrs. Bündchen exclaimed.
"Hey~, over there, your guy isn't following orders. Besides robbing, he wants to harass. What do you say?"
Richard shouted at the man in the white mask.
"Tony, stop messing around!"
The white-masked man came over, pushing the red-masked robber away, and looked at Richard.
"Richard Brad, you think you're tough?"
"You know me?"
Richard raised an eyebrow and smiled.
"Haha, who doesn't know the champion Richard? Someone told me to pass on a message. Save your strength for the ring. If you dare to win..."
Bang~
The white-masked man fired a shot, hitting the seat, just grazing Richard's pants.
"Ahhh~"
Another scream rang out around them.
"Haha, Brad, did you piss your pants?"
The white-masked man laughed.
"Hahaha~"
The other three robbers laughed too.
Richard smiled lightly, shrugged, and said, "I'm fine. My urethra is long. It didn't come out before I held it back."
"Hahaha, you're funny. If you behave, we might be friends."
The white-masked man laughed.
"Be friends with me?"
Richard laughed, "Are you worthy?"
"What?!"
Bang!
Before the white-masked man could react, a fist hit his chin at a speed faster than he could respond.
Pff~
Blood, along with a few yellow teeth and a shattered white mask, flew up. The white-masked man flew back but was caught by his neck before hitting the ground.
"Everyone, get down!"
Richard shouted, grabbing the falling gun and holding the unconscious white-masked man, whose neck hung limply, blood dripping from his mouth.
"Let go of Randall!"
The other three robbers were stunned, raising their guns.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three shots, and three guns fell to the ground.
Ahhh~
The three robbers screamed, clutching their arms, shoulders, and wrists.
Richard threw away the unconscious white-masked man, quickly approached the other three, and knocked them down with a few punches and kicks.
Dozens of people in the restaurant watched, stunned, as one man took down four armed robbers barehanded.
"Can someone call the police?"
Richard asked, picking up the four guns.
"I did, Mr. Brad. Thank you!"
The restaurant manager stepped forward.
"You're welcome."
Richard returned to his seat, took out his phone, and called Don King, briefly explaining the situation.
After the call, he found the three women staring at him.
"Haha, what's wrong? Are you all stunned?"
Richard waved and smiled.
"Richard, are you okay?"
Mrs. Bündchen held his leg.
"I'm fine!"
"Ah, you're bleeding!"
"It's nothing!"
"Ah, you're bleeding!"
Ms. Bundchen exclaimed as she looked at the blood on her hand.
"It's nothing, just a little scratch. I'm really fine!"
Richard helped her up, using a napkin to wipe her arm. The fair, slender fingers stained with blood didn't look good.
"Richard, were you in the Marines?"
Angela stared at him like he was an alien.
"No, I'm from the Bronx, used to play with guns for a few years. Don't idolize me too much."
Richard smiled.
"Richard, you're not human!"
Ambrosio stared at the blood on his pant leg.
"Alright, say what you want. This time it's my fault you all got involved. I'll make sure to give you a proper explanation."
Richard clenched his fist as he spoke.
Woo-woo~
Ten minutes later, Don King's assistant, old Bernard Parker, arrived with some men, followed by the police.
After giving their statements, the three women returned to the New York Casino Hotel, and Richard followed the old man to Don King's Boxing Club Hotel.
——
"Richard, is your injury alright?"
At the entrance of the club, Don King came up and asked.
"Thank you for your concern, Mr. King. It's just a surface wound, no big deal."
Richard moved his bandaged right leg and smiled.
"Richard, you're my guest. If you get hurt here, it's our responsibility. I'll make sure you're satisfied with our response."
Don King said with a serious face.
"Thank you, Mr. King. I'm fine, just a bit worried about my three friends who got scared."
"Haha, I understand."
Mr. King glanced at his assistant Bernard.
Old Bernard smiled slightly and turned to leave the club hotel.
"Richard, you're an incredible guy. My men said you single-handedly KO'd four armed robbers. That's unbelievable, better than in the movies."
Mr. King held his arm as he spoke.
Richard shook his head, "I was too impulsive. I've always hated having a gun pointed at my head. When that guy pointed a gun at me earlier, I just couldn't hold back. Thinking about it now, it was pretty reckless."
"Haha, you're only twenty-one. If you're not impulsive, can you even be called young? You've got skills and can handle the situation. That's not impulsive, that's called confidence."
Old man Don King laughed heartily.
Richard smiled slightly, "Mr. King, do you think this incident will affect the match?"
"You still want to compete despite your injury?"
Mr. King asked.
"It's fine, just a scratch. The doctor said a week's rest will heal it completely before the match."
Richard asked as he walked with the old man.
"Then it won't affect anything. The match will go on as planned."
Mr. King waved his hand.
"Alright!"
The two chatted as they walked into the office.
Less than half an hour later, assistant Bernard walked in with a strange expression.
"Bernard, what's wrong?"
Mr. King put down his glass and asked.
Richard also looked at old Bernard.
"You won't believe it, but this involves Tyson."
"What?!"
Both Don King and Richard were stunned. They thought it might be related to Roy Jones or his fans, but didn't expect it to involve an even bigger fish.
"That guy named Randall works security for a local casino and is also a gang member. Last year, he was caught in a robbery and jailed with Tyson.
He confessed that they heard Tyson's analysis in prison and decided to bet on Roy Jones winning.
To be safe, they sent Randall to scare Richard. When they saw Richard enter the restaurant today, they went to threaten him and rob him, but didn't expect Richard to be so tough, causing them to fail completely."
Bernard shook his head, finding it amusing.
"Tyson's advice? Haha, Richard, do you mind making a bigger deal out of this?"
Don King stroked his chin and smiled.
Richard thought for a moment, "I'll leave everything to you, Mr. King."
"Great, I was worried the second match wouldn't get enough publicity. With this big news, I'm confident the prize money will increase by fifty percent."
Don King laughed, pumping his fist.
Richard raised an eyebrow. The prize money for this match was currently six million. An increase of fifty percent? Looks like this incident wasn't entirely a bad thing.
——
(End of this chapter)