Fight Me Little Pearl

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

FRANCESCA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3vTgpNPzYQ

-Hey Baby, there ain’t no easy way out-

T he Barbieri house is pretty impressive, but it’s child’s play compared to the Palazzo della Seraphina. I’ve just walked around the garden, and as I head back to my room, I can’t help but admire the magical aura of the place. Every corner of the mansion speaks of wealth, luxury, power, and centuries' worth of history.

Despite the beauty and magic surrounding me, my heart is heavy with a strange despair. One I never thought I would be feeling.

Valentino doesn’t care about me.

I should be happy about it, but it makes my heart heavy, and I hate it. I’d prefer he hates me, but his aloof detachment kills me. He doesn’t get upset with me anymore, he doesn’t speak to me, he only responds coldly, as if I am a nuisance he has to put up with. Like the flies that plague the poor animals in the heat plains of Africa. They are forced to swish their tails in response to these irritating insects. No matter how hard I try to get a rise out of him, he simply doesn’t care. Actually, it’s like I don’t exist until I speak.

And what was that nonsense with that slut, Vica, when we arrived? Is there something between them? I’m not experienced in the ways of men and women, but there was something more going on there than mere friendship.

Where is Valentino now? It’s almost seven, and I haven’t seen him since he showed me to my room. Is he with Vica? Is he with another woman? I don’t care, so why is my heart hurting so badly at the thought of him with another woman? The truth is I’m going crazy.

I burst into my room and slam the door behind me. The bedroom is a haven of luxury and comfort, but it doesn’t take my mind off my husband. I fall on the canopied bed draped in silk and damask. I allow the softness to lull me for a little bit.

I’m hardly asleep when there’s a knock on my door. I sit up, wondering who it could be. “Come in.”

The door opens, and Freya peeks in. There’s a noise behind her, and soon, all four ladies I met earlier troop into my room.

“Hello,” I greet warmly, even though I only like Freya, Isabella, and Serena. I violently dislike Vica.

“Sorry to barge in like this,” Isabella says as they all plop themselves on the bed. “We were about to leave, but thought we should come and say goodbye.”

Isabella is tall, slim, doe-eyed, and pretty. She is about the same age as me. Freya and Serena seem to be a bit older, but that doesn’t take away from their respective allure. Freya has a brunette bob and flashing dark eyes. Serena’s appeal is more of a Barbie doll. She’s obviously had some work done on her body because the proportions seem a little outrageous, but she has a very sweet face. But of all of them, Vica is the most beautiful. With olive skin, high, pert breasts, and snake-like hips.

“You’re not sleeping with your husband?” Vica asks brazenly. Her cat-like green eyes are gleaming with curiosity… and something else.

“Vica!” Freya gasps. “You can’t ask her that.”

“Why not?” Vica shrugs casually, but she has smelled a rat and she is after it now.

I hate her for being so gorgeous and for the way my husband slid his hand down her snake hips. It suggested knowledge and intimacy. I don’t want to be rude to anyone, even though anger is swirling in my belly, and begging me to bash her insolent head against the wall and stain the white sheets with her blood. I tell myself I will not be reduced to a catfight because of Valentino. I hate him. If the bitch wants him, she’s welcome to him.

“It’s okay, Freya.” I touch Freya’s arm softly and smile at Vica.

“How does it feel to be married to Valentino?” Serena asks. “I’ve always been afraid of him.”

“Valentino isn’t scary.” Vica rolls her eyes. “He’s a big bad wolf on the outside and a sweet teddy bear on the inside.” There’s a deliberately secretive, knowing look in her eyes that makes me want to snuff the life out of her.

“Vica, you shouldn’t say things that you know nothing about,” Freya scolds. She seems utterly exhausted with Vica. I’m pleased by the fact that I’m not the only one who sees how hard she’s trying to get on my nerves.

“I’m absolutely sure of whatever I tell you about Valentino,” Vica boasts. “We are very close.” She turns to me. “I saw Valentino a few minutes ago, and the poor man looked fatigued. I suggest you make him a pot of chamomile tea. It always calms him down.”

The other women glance at me, gauging my reaction. The reaction they see is not the one I am feeling. I smile gratefully at Vica and touch her arm gently. “Thank you, Vico. I appreciate any advice that will make my husband happy.”

“It’s Vica.” She jerks away from my touch.

I laugh softly. “Must be strange for you. To know so much about a man and have him marry another woman. What will you do with all the information in your head about him now?”

Vica gasps, jumps up from the bed and storms out of the room. When she’s out the door, we all burst into laughter.

“Ha, ha. You called her Vico. I love you already,” Serena says, throwing her arms around me.

“Don’t mind, Vico. She’s just upset he didn’t choose her,” Isabella says cheekily.

“I won’t.”

“Are you ready to meet everyone at the party tomorrow?” Freya asks.

It’s tomorrow? I feel irritated with Valentino all over again! He is so…so annoying. First, he didn’t bother to tell me about a party where his whole intimidating family would be there. Then when I confront him about it, he still doesn’t let me know it is tomorrow.

I think I should have something to wear in my suitcase but it gives me no time at all to prepare mentally for it. “I don't think I’ll ever be ready to meet some of the elders of the Barone clan,” I answer honestly. “But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be with you all the way,” Isabella says, taking my hand. “We were in your shoes once. Nonna Isadora is the scariest one, but once you get over the first few minutes, you’ll love her.”

I smile gratefully. “Thank you.”

Freya hugs me and scrambles off the bed. “We should leave. We will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you all,” I say and I really mean it. They are sincere and sweet and I am touched by their kind offer of friendship and assistance.

I hug the three women and walk them to the door. After they leave, I’m left alone with my damning thoughts. I wish they would return to keep me company, or else I may drown in anger. Vica’s words are still stuck in my head even though she was first to leave.

I saw Valentino a few minutes ago.

So she saw him a few minutes ago? Where?

In his room. I don’t even know where his room is. Why is he meeting up with her after telling me that he wanted his family to think we are deeply in love with each other? What did they do together? He could barely keep his hands off her when he was in the company of his family. Did he touch her? Did he kiss her? I get angrier and angrier with every new thought that roars into my head. He tells me I have to play the part of the happiest bride in the world while he plays the part of the most unfaithful husband in the world.

My blood burns with jealous rage.

I know I cannot stay cooped up here any longer.

Earlier, I saw an outdoor pool on the east side of the house. It was like something from an old Greek painting. Majestic thick columns with creepers growing up them and a wonderful ancient style mosaic tiled floor. The fragrance from the lemon and orange grove hung over the still water like a magic mist. Maybe I should go there. I’ve always loved to swim. Maybe the water will relax me tonight.

I slip into the bikini Louisa gave me as a wedding present and look critically at my reflection in the mirror. I never would have picked it if I was shopping for a swimsuit. It is too daring, which is not me at all. The top struggles to adequately cover my full breasts, and the bottom is a whisker away from being pornographic. Since she helped me pack, I had no option but to smile when she stuffed it cheekily into a corner of my suitcase. I grab a big white towel and wrap it around me.

I open the door and listen for a few seconds. There is the faint sound of an air-conditioner humming somewhere, but otherwise, the house is still. Everyone is gone. In fact, the whole house is so quiet it feels wrong to disturb the peace. I take my sandals off and, holding them in my hands, walk along the corridor and down the stairs towards the glass double doors.

I slide open the doors and see no one.

Suddenly, I feel like a child on an escapade. With a low laugh of pure joy, I run on my bare feet across the cool grass. Only to freeze when I reach the pool. Valentino is sitting at the edge of the pool, his pants rolled up to the middle of his calves and his feet dipped into the water. He’s smoking a cigarette, and beside him is an open bottle of vodka. He’s the embodiment of danger, and… I can’t help it. I feel unbelievably drawn to him.

Self-preservation tells me to turn away, but my body remains rooted to the spot, silently hoping he would look up and see me. Seconds later, he takes a long drag of his cigarette and looks up to blow a ring of smoke in the air. Our gazes meet. His eyes gleam in the warm soft yellow glow of the gas lamps. Smoke exhales out of him, and the air is suddenly filled with a strange tension.