Fight Me Little Pearl

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

VALENTINO

“ G ood evening, Mr. and Mrs. Barone. This is your Captain speaking. We have begun our descent to Venice, and we expect to land in ten minutes. The time in Venice is five twenty-five p.m., and the weather is cool and windy. I ask that you please remain in your seats as we prepare for landing. Thank you.”

As the Captain's announcement ends, I turn my phone off, look up, and catch Francesca’s gaze. She immediately looks away and turns her head to look out the window.

Francesca has been restless since morning, and I don’t know why. I am trying not to care because I’m furious with her, but everything about my new wife catches my attention, even the faintest of sighs. No woman has ever had so much control over my attention, and it bothers me a great deal.

“My family will be waiting for us at the house,” I say, causing her to glance at me.

“Okay.”

“When we get out there, we’re going to have to pretend we’re in love.”

Her blue eyes widen with shock. “What?”

A small smile plays on my lips, but I catch it before it blossoms. “No one knows that this is a transactional marriage, and we’re going to keep it that way, so sulk all you want when we are alone, but when we walk out of here you’re going to smile like you’re the happiest bride in the world.”

Francesca’s eyes flash stubbornly. “So the feared Godfather of the Barone clan is actually a coward,” she scoffs. “Too ashamed to tell his family he married a woman for a piece of land. You think you’re better than us, but you’re not. You need us to get your filthy hands on Terra de Barbiera.”

Anyone else would have been bleeding on my handmade, high-grade, full-grain leather shoes for daring to speak to me this way, but I only watch, my heart and cock stirring as my new bride verbally mauls me. She’s a fireball for sure, and I desperately crave to dominate and subdue her.

I want her crying and begging for my cock.

I want her to cry with need for me.

I want that mouth that scowls and growls at me to moan with pleasure as my body and hands teach her some manners.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” she snaps when I don’t respond.

I lean forward, staring into her lovely eyes. Her pupils dilate at my nearness, and I can tell that her bravado is only a facade. She’s afraid of me, and rightfully so. She should never forget who I am.

“I don’t know how much your grandfather told you, but you are a target, my dear wife. They want you because of Terra de Barbiera, the land you hate me for. But because of me, because of my protection, you are safe.”

Francesca sucks in a breath but says nothing. Our gazes remain locked to each other.

“You must pretend to people that this is a marriage of love; otherwise, they will come for you thinking I don’t love you. In the Cosa Nostra, family is everything, and they know that coming for the loved ones is a declaration of war. Especially for the wife of the Godfather himself. Let them think I love you so they’ll be too afraid to touch you.”

She nods obediently and it is the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I lean back, glad that my raging erection is hidden behind my fly.

I manage to calm myself down by turning away from her and thinking of how I will wipe the stupid smirk off Burim Boga’s ugly face. Eventually, the plane comes to a stop and I lead Francesca towards the exit. Outside the jet, my four cousins are lined up, waiting for my arrival. From the left to right are Roberto, Matteo, Federico, and Giuseppe. They are the sons of Zio Marco, my father’s older brother.

“ Benvenuti ,” they chorus in welcome as I descend the boarding stairs. “It’s so good to see you, Valentino. We’ve been waiting.”

I hug and kiss their cheeks before turning to Francesca, who is standing a few steps behind me. I meet her eyes, silently reminding her of our agreement on the jet. She winks at me suddenly, then smiles brightly, so brightly I am blinded. Sliding her small arm around my waist, she looks up at me with adoring eyes.

“Won’t you introduce me to your family, amore mio ?”

Jesus, I married a fucking actress. I’m too bemused by the change in her to even respond.

She flashes me a sexy smile before turning her attention to my cousins. “Hello. I’m Francesca Barbieri.”

“Wrong.” Federico steps forward. He and Matteo are the jesters of the group, and he already has a teasing smile as he looks at Francesca. “You are Francesca Barone.”

“Oh!” Francesca laughs and slides a shy glance my way. “You’re right. I haven’t gotten used to my new name yet, but it has a beautiful ring to it.”

“You will.” Federico takes her hand and kisses it. “I am Rico. The rumors don't do you justice. You are far, by far more beautiful than they say.”

“Get out.” Matteo good-naturedly pushes Federico away. “Hi. I am Matteo, and these two idiots are Giuseppe and Roberto.”

“It’s nice to meet everyone,” Francesca says with a smile. “I hear you’re a big family.”

“You have no idea,” Matteo answers. “Everyone is waiting at the house. The family traveled down from Florence, New York, Chicago, Sicily, and Paris to attend the party Nonna Isadora is throwing for you and Valentino.”

“Well,” Francesca says with an intriguing smile. “That sounds like the making of a wonderful party.”

I grab Francesca’s hand from Matteo’s hold and pin him with a glare so vicious he takes a step back. “Let’s get to the house.”

We walk to the fleet of vehicles a few feet away, and I recognize my Black Audi immediately. Vance and Dutch materialize from the shadows and take the front seats while I open the back door for Francesca. My cousins have dispersed to their vehicles so she jerks her hand away from mine and slips into the car.

“Why didn’t you tell me we were flying to Italy to attend a party?” she asks belligerently.

I didn’t even know Nonna Isadora was throwing a party in my honor. I was just as surprised as she was when Matteo said it.

“Would it have changed anything?” I ask.

“No, but informing someone of a happy occasion in advance is common courtesy, something you are clearly a stranger to,” she mutters under her breath.

Dutch meets my eyes in the rearview mirror and immediately glances away. He sees the disrespect, and he’s shocked that I’m allowing it. On so many occasions, Dutch has watched me put women in their place for as little as looking at me the wrong way. He probably thinks I’m letting Francesca off the hook because she is my wife. That’s laughable. I don’t give a fuck about the title; it is the woman holding it.

I can tell she’s upset, and every fiber of my being wants to pull her into my arms and confess that I, too, didn’t know there would be a party, but my pride won’t let me. Until she stops assuming the worst of me, I won’t show any vulnerability. It will only give her more ammunition to attack me with. I sit still and let the gulf between us widen.

When we arrive at the house, the women are waiting outside. They move towards the Audi as it stops outside Palazzo della Seraphina. I climb out and hold Francesca’s hand to help her. In the full glare of the public, the brilliant smile is back on her face.

“ Che bellezza ,” Freya, Matteo’s wife, steps forward, pulling Francesca into her arms. “We are so happy to meet you. Welcome to the Barone family.”

Francesca hugs her affectionately. “Thank you.”

“I’m Freya,” she says. “I believe you’ve already met my husband, Matteo. He went to the airport with his brothers to welcome you.”

“Oh, yes,” Francesca laughs. “You’ve got one dreamy man there, Freya.”

Envy ravages my blood at her statement. Matteo is dreamy? I’m not a vain man, but even I know Matteo can never hold a candle to me in the looks department. But then again maybe she likes her men weak, like that freckled maggot, Thomas.

“Oh, come on.” Freya waves Francesca off, a slight blush on her cheek. “Come meet the others.” She turns to the women behind her.

“This is Serena, Federico’s wife. This is Isabella, Giuseppe’s wife. And this is Vica, a cousin of the family.”

As Freya introduces Francesca to the women, some of my uncles emerge from the house. Roberto approaches me, his voice barely above a whisper. “There’s work to be done.”

I nod, remembering the urgent call I’d received from Zio Marco yesterday. “Have Zio Marco wait for me in the study,” I say, looking at the women. “Francesca and I will settle in, and I’ll be with you shortly.”

“It will be done.” Roberto nods and leaves with his brothers.

The women stop chatting and look at them. They are beaming with genuine happiness for me. They bestow their good wishes on me.

“Congratulations!”

“You look wonderful.”

“It’s so good to see you again.”

“You have married a beautiful bride.”

Vica pulls away from the other women. “Hello, Val,” she drawls, her voice sultry. She plasters herself against my body as she reaches up to kiss my cheek. She flutters her eyelashes and rubs up on me a little before pulling away.

“You look well,” she drawls.

Vica and I always fucked when our paths crossed. I’m aware she wants more from me, but I’ve never failed to let her know that would never happen. And right now, her cloying perfume repulses me, but I don’t pull away from her because I notice the fire in Francesca’s eyes as she watches us. I almost want to laugh at the territorial expression she’s trying so hard to mask.

Since I’m enjoying that more than the revulsion I feel for Vica, I let my hand momentarily slide down her hip. The movement makes Francesca’s teeth clench. Good!

“Thank you, cara .”

Vica’s eyes flare with shock because I’ve never called her by an endearment. She better enjoy this because it could well be the last time I do.

“Vica, let’s give Valentino and Francesca, his new wife , some privacy,” Freya says with a smile, but she pulls Vica’s arm with more force than necessary. “We’ll see you later, Valentino. Francesca.”

Francesca waves the women off as they leave.

“Follow me,” I say, and walk quickly into the house.