Fight Me Little Pearl

Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

VALENTINO

J esus! She hurt me. How she hurt me.

I was stunned by the extraordinary pain I felt as I walked away. The one time I let my guard down. The one time in my life I let my guard down… and she hurt me.

‘This marriage will soon be over, and when it is, you can go back to your women, and I’ll go back to the man I love.’

That was two days ago, but her words still ring in my head hollowly.

Go back to your women! She had no idea. And she will never know my secret. I didn’t meet her for the first time in Franco’s office four months ago. I saw her for the first time two years ago. She doesn’t know it, but for two years, I was consumed with thoughts of her, and all the other women were fleeting moments of relief from my obsession to have her, to own her, to call her mine.

During those years I wanted her so badly, I physically hurt for her. I couldn’t bear the thought of another man’s hands on her. I was terrified some other man would win her heart before I could. I waited two years to have her and waited days after our marriage to feel her in my arms.

She accuses me of cheating.

Well, she will never know, but for me, sex with all those nameless women was not pleasure. It was a bodily function. Like the respite one feels when a full bladder is emptied. Or the way a man stranded on a desert island will eat roots and dirt just to quieten the hunger pangs and survive.

Now, she tells me she wants to go back to the freckled maggot. What does she see in that pale, spineless creature? A man who will not lift a finger to protect or fight for the woman he claims to love is no man. It isn’t blood that flows in his veins, but slime. I fantasize about tearing his worm chest open, ripping his heart out, and watching his body trash and squirm wildly before it finally stills forever.

But I’m not going to do it.

She’ll only hate me more.

I’ve made up my mind to stay the hell away from her. At least until I get my head straight.

I’ve made sure to avoid her as much as possible. Vance and I are in the office of one of the storage facilities we have scattered around Italy. This is where I’ve been spending most of my time since my disastrous fallout with Francesca, but I’ll be meeting her at the airport later today. I am already dreading being alone in the jet with her. I haven’t seen her since that night, and I’m not sure I trust myself with the little minx. She has too much power over me.

There’s a knock on the door, and I sit up, knowing who it is. Anger swirls in my belly, and I try to contain it.

“Are we expecting anyone?” Vance asks, a frown on his face.

“I’m expecting someone,” I answer.

“Come in,” I call.

The door opens, and Nina walks in, wearing a sexy smile and the most seductive dress she could lay her hands on. She surely must be the dumbest broad alive.

“Should I leave?” Vance asks.

“No,” I say, rising to my feet. “I am going to need a witness.”

I leave my desk and walk towards Nina. She approaches me fearlessly, her flirty smile unwavering and unnerved by the lack of welcome in my face. “Hello, Valentino,” Nina greets me when I reach her. “It’s been a-”

I wrap my hand around her neck and squeeze, shutting her up. Her eyes bulge as fear and panic set in. She opens her mouth to scream, but I squeeze a little harder. Her legs kick and she claws at my hand, pinching and scratching until she draws blood, yet I don’t bulge.

I maintain my hold for a few more risky seconds before I fling her to the ground. She hits the floor with a thud and rolls into a ball, coughing and clutching at her throat. Then she scuttles away from me like a frightened rat until her back hits the wall.

I walk up to her and crouch in front of her. She recoils in horror. One of her big breasts has popped out of her skimpy dress, and already there is a red bruise circling her neck. Tears pour in rivulets down her cheeks. I notice that all the adoration and lust in her eyes has fled.

As she stares at me, only fear and terror remain.

Good. There is a satisfied smile on my face as amicably I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You seem to have forgotten who I am,” I say kindly. “That’s why you had the crazy idea to go into my home and talk to my wife.”

“No, I haven’t. I’m s-sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise. P-please,” she begs, shaking her head fearfully.

“I honestly wanted to kill you, but for old time’s sake, I’ll let you go.”

“Thank you.”

“But the next time you let Francesca set eyes on you, I will kill you,” I warn. “I want you to spend the rest of your life avoiding my wife. How clear am I?”

She nods vigorously. “V-very clear.”

“Good.” I pat her hair and stand. “Now, get out of my office,” I say as I return to my desk.

She scrambles to her feet and dashes out the door.

My phone beeps with a text, and I glance at the screen. It’s from Orlando.

We have captured Jerome and Alejandro,

the rats working with Alban.

Sorry, it took so long.

They were alerted and skipped town.

What should I do with them?

I glance at my wristwatch, and it’s already eleven a.m. I ordered Dutch to drive Francesca to the airport by three as my flight was scheduled for five. I rise to my feet.

“I’m heading to the airport.”

“Okay.” Vance follows me out of the door.

“Tell Federico to go to Paris and meet me in New York tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Roberto starts to call Federico immediately. “What do you want him to do?”

“Meet Orlando. He’s caught the traitors who were helping Boga steal from us. I want him to find out everything they know.”

I walk into the plane a couple of hours later to find Francesca already seated and sipping from a glass of white wine. She doesn’t look up from her phone when I come in. It enrages me to see her smiling without a care at the screen. I almost snatch the phone to see who it is that has such an effect on her, but I don’t. I settle into the seat across from her.

She looks up at me and the smile dies on her lips. For a while, neither of us speak, but as soon as we are airborne, she rises from her seat. “I think I’ll lie down for a while. I have a headache.”

I say nothing as she walks away from me, even though all I want to do is drag her into my lap and tell her I would lay my life down for her. But what would be the use of that? She thinks I’m a liar. I gave her my word, and she didn’t trust it. Everyone knows my word is my bond except her.

Matteo is in my bad books, but if I go to him and give him my word about something, he will trust it explicitly. No matter what or how I feel, I won’t reward her mistrust by going to her first.

It is raining heavily as we arrive in New York. Vance brings out two big black umbrellas and escorts us towards the car. Francesca steps out of the protection of the umbrella and turns to me. The rain falls on her hair and face. My mind registers the extraordinary sight. I can’t stop staring. She looks so hauntingly beautiful.

“I’d like to go to my grandfather’s house.”

I freeze. “What?”

Her lips tremble. “I want to see my mom.”

“You can see her tomorrow. Get in the car.”

She shakes her soaked head. “I want to see her now. Not tomorrow.”

We stare at each other for the longest time. I drink in the sight of her. There’s a vulnerability about her that I do not want to argue with. Almost as if I could break her if I’m not careful.

“Vance!” I snap my fingers. “Get the second vehicle. You’re taking Francesca to her grandfather’s house.”

“I’ll just order a ride and-”

“No,” I cut her off harshly. “And by the way, your family doesn’t live in the same house anymore.”

“What?” Her eyes widen. “No one told me this! Are they okay?”

“They’re under my protection. It’s insulting that you ask me that.”

She swallows. “Then why did they move?”

“You’re headed there. You can ask them when you arrive.”

Francesca narrows her eyes and appears to want to say more, but Vance pulls up in a Mercedes. I hold the door open for her. I hold her gaze for a brief moment before closing the door. The Mercedes drives off and I feel a great emptiness inside me.

I turn away and enter my Audi.

As Dutch drives me away I turn and stare out of the window. My father was right. Love makes a man weak. I am no longer the man I once was.

I have become weak.