Fight Me Little Pearl

Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine

FRANCESCA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m5N9IHqqGcA

I drove all night

I wake up to soft hands on my shoulders, gently shaking me awake. The sunrays pierce through an opening in the curtain, and I glance at the bedside clock, shocked that it’s a few minutes past eight. Usually, I’d be up by this time, but I hardly slept through the night and am just beginning to get some rest.

I finally cried last night despite all my efforts not to.

I’d tried to stay strong, to prove to myself that Valentino didn’t have the power to hurt me, but as soon as my back hit the bed and I was alone in the darkness, my body craved his presence so much that I started crying. It began as little sniffs and turned into a four-hour sob fest.

I hate myself for feeling so much for Valentino. I hate my family for pairing me up with him. Most of all, I hate Valentino for hurting me again. How can a man as powerful as him lack sexual discipline? What we have is so amazing. Why does he need other women? This is our honeymoon period.

I hate to think it, but perhaps the vixen dancing on him wasn’t the only woman he’s been with since he promised he was faithful to me. Maybe, there are many more, but this is the only one that got caught on video. Whoever made that video deserves a slap and a million dollars.

I turn towards the person beside me on the bed, whose hand has shaken me awake and see Valentino is sitting beside me. His face is a mask of stress and torture and he’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday morning. Worse, he looks like he’s aged since I last saw him a day ago.

His gray eyes pin me down, and for a moment, I can’t believe that only a few days ago, I actually contemplated getting off the pill because I wanted to have a baby who looked just like him. Even stressed and unhappy he looks so handsome, but his disrespect taints it, and I just see him now as the devil. I thank God I’m still on the pill because imagine getting pregnant by a man as callous and wicked as him.

“ Perla mia ,” Valentino says. His voice is rough and hoarse like he’s been shouting for hours. “What is-?”

“Please, do not call me that,” I say softly. I thought that when I saw him, I would yell and try to attack him for hurting me, but I can’t bring myself to do any of that. My head hurts from all the crying I did last night. All I want is for Valentino to get away from me.

“Why shouldn’t I?” he asks. “You’re my little pearl.”

“Am I?” Pain swirls in my belly. “Am I one of the little pearls on your long string of pearls, my dear husband?”

He has the guts to look absolutely confused. God, this man is either an excellent liar or an Oscar-winning actor in the making.

“String of pearls?” he asks. “What are you talking about?”

I release a deep breath. “I’m not in the mood to play this game. I’m tired and my head hurts. Please, just go away.”

“I’m your husband and I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

His voice is so full of caring that for a few seconds, I feel myself slipping. Days ago, I would have believed this show to be authentic. I would have believed the affection I hear in his voice. But after that video, the innocence is gone. Valentino doesn’t love anyone other than himself. He is using me. He wanted Terra de Barbieri, and now that he has got it, he’s playing me like a harp, and I was foolish enough to fall for it once, but never again.

“Yes, you are my husband, but this marriage is a sham.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, and I feel a wave of guilt because the last thing I want to do is hurt him, but I shake it off firmly. I’m not hurting him. He’s just pretending. “I’m tired of being disrespected by you, Valentino. I want out of this marriage.”

“I have never disrespected you,” he says quietly. “Ever since we got married, I have always put you first. Even before myself.”

His words are so laughable I forget my despair and burst into cynical laughter.

His frown deepens. “That’s it. This is becoming exhausting. What happened? Out with it?”

“This is exhausting for you?” I rage. “You know what is exhausting for me? Having to run into all your freaking whores one at a time.”

“What the fuck are you on about now? You don’t trust me at all. It’s like every time I leave you alone for a moment there’s another accusation coming from you.”

“Oh, how exhausting for you,” I say sarcastically. “Since we’re both exhausted, can we dissolve this marriage already? I willingly give up all rights to Terra de Barbieri to you. You don’t have to be tied to me just to hold on to it. Take it and do whatever you want with it.”

“Francesca…” he reaches for me, but I slap his hand away.

“There’s no other woman. You are-”

“What about the woman who gave you a lap dance?” I shriek, like a madwoman.

His eyes flare with guilt, and seeing that hurts more than anything. A small part of me had clung to the hope that the video was an AI-doctored video, but now I know. It’s true. He paid for the services of a lap dancer.

But as I watch the guilt is gone, wiped away, and suddenly the dangerously powerful man sitting in the armchair dominating the three men of the law I’d seen a few nights ago was back.

“You saw a video of me getting a lap dance on Federico’s phone?” he asks quietly.

I roll away from him. “You disgust me.”

He stands and faces me with the bed between us. His gray eyes burn into me, searing my skin and heart. “What do you want me to say, Francesca? That it’s not what you think? That there are extenuating circumstances? That I didn’t feel anything when she was on top of me? That I didn’t fuck her?”

I frown.

“Look at your face. You don’t want to believe me. I’m done trying to prove myself to you.”

I’m shocked that Valentino isn’t trying to defend himself. It breaks my heart even more to know he’s given up so easily.

“But” he continues in a hard voice, “there’s no escape for you in this marriage. You’re not leaving me.”

“Valentino-”

“If you want to be miserable by letting other people tear us apart with lies and random video clips, then by all means, be my guest, but you, mia piccolo perla , are not leaving this marriage. I swear it on everything dear to me.”

“Fine. You’re the Boss.” I smile. I want to hurt him as much as he has hurt me, and I know exactly how to do it. “Keep me in this marriage, but just know you’re keeping a woman who doesn’t belong to you!”

“You belong to me,” he snarls ferociously.

I don’t back down. “I don’t belong to you. You will look at me every day, knowing I belong to another man. My heart beats for another man.” As I growl these words, I tell myself that I’m no better than Valentino for lying and scheming, but I’m hurt so why shouldn’t he feel the same hurt?

“Francesca, I’m warning you?—”

“Thomas is a much better man than you,” I continue vengefully. “He may not be rich or powerful, but he is a good man. He doesn’t cheat and?—”

“Shut up!” Valentino pushes me against the wall, trapping me with his hard body. I’m aware of the sweet burn of his touch, but I ignore it and laugh in his face.

“What do you want to do?” I challenge recklessly. “Hit me? Go on. Do it!”

His eyes flare with shock, and he instantly pulls away. “I would never hurt you, Francesca.”

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?”

“You’re going to get Thomas killed,” he says, his expression, suddenly blank. “If you keep throwing him in my face. I’ve been good to you, Francesca, but don’t make the mistake of thinking he is safe while he poses any kind of threat to my marriage to you.”

“Killing him won’t take away the fact that he’s better than you.”

“Why is he better than me? Because he’s a social justice warrior?” Valentino says as if he finds the whole of Thomas’s principled ethos ridiculous.

“Yes. Thomas is different from you. He’s not about money. He cares about everyone. He wants to change and cleanse the world of people like you!”

His eyes shutter, and they become colder than the icy winds that blow in the Arctic Circle. “People like me,” he echoes softly. “Monsters who are only fit to prowl at night? Terrible men who kill and maim and abuse?”

“Yes,” I shout.

He laughs darkly. “Sweetheart, your Thomas would be the happiest man on earth if I brought him into my organization today and showered him with riches that he is too lazy to acquire on his own merit.”

“He will not. You simply can’t even fathom that there are good men out there, can you? Men who will give up their-”

“No.” He shakes his head. “There may be a few good men out there, but I’m afraid Francesca, Thomas is not one of them.”

“Get out!”

“I will, but not before I prove it to you.” He walks to the door. “I’m tired of you deluding yourself and throwing in my face a man who isn’t half the man I am.” He jerks the door open and shouts, “Vance!”

“Yes, Boss.” Vance appears instantly, as if he’s been waiting for Valentino’s call.

“Who’s our guy in Fox Media. Get him on the phone.”

“Okay, Boss.”

I gasp, wondering what Valentino is up to now. Thomas talks about Fox Media with so much disdain. He considers Rupert Murdoch almost like the devil incarnate, and he once swore to me that he would never work for an organization like that. He hates organizations that use their platforms to champion corrupt causes while important ones like human rights and freedom of speech remain buried.

“James Volkner,” Vance says, and hands the phone to Valentino, who instantly puts it on speaker for my benefit.

“Mr. Barone,” James Volkner says cordially. “Good to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“I need you to do something for me real quick.”

“Sure, anything,” James says crisply. “I’d love to help.”

“There’s someone I want you to employ. His name is Thomas Dwight. He’s twenty-seven years old. Graduated top of his class in English literature.”

I’m not even shocked that Valentino knows all these details about Thomas. Like he said, he’s the Boss. Nothing gets past him.

“Okay? Can he send in a resume?”

“No.” Valentino shakes his head. “I’m only doing this to prove a point.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll send you his details shortly. I want you to reach out to him and offer him a spot in your organization. Just a junior position. Nothing too dazzling. But on one condition. That he can no longer champion human rights or freedom of speech, can you do that for me? Right now?”

“I’ll do anything within my power for you, and this is within my power. Forward his details to me, and I’ll call you back with a report in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, James.” He hangs up the call and hands the phone over to Vance. “Send James everything he needs.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Valentino turns to me. “Thomas will never agree to it,” I sneer. “I know him. He’s championed these causes all his life. He’s not going to give them up for a stupid junior job at Murdoch’s organization.”

“He’s been posturing,” Valentino argues. “Pretending to be what he’s not. But maybe that’s the kind of man you like. I’ve shown you all of me, but you frown down upon it and throw this bastard in my face every fucking chance you get. I’m the bad one, but I’ve never rubbed another woman in your face.”

“Doing it behind my back doesn’t make it any better.”

“I will not defend my honor to you, Francesca. I’ve done that many more times than I’m proud of. If this is what you believe, then so be it.”

He turns away at the same time the phone rings.

“It’s James, Boss.”

“Take the call and put it on speaker.”

Vance obeys.

“Mr. Barone.”

“James. What have you got?”

“It’s done. He will start at the office on Monday.”

“He took the job and agreed to stop championing his human rights causes?”

“Without hesitation.”

“Fire him.”

“Already?” James says, shocked.

“Immediately.”

It looks like James has a lot of questions, but he only says, “Okay, Mr. Barone. As you wish.”

“Thank you, James.”

“You’re welcome.”

When the call ends, Valentino hands the phone back to Vance. When he’s gone and the door is closed, he turns back to me.

“That’s your hero, Francesca. The man you love. That’s him. A big fat fake. An empty shell.”

I try not to let the shock show on my face, but my system is reeling from it. I can’t believe Thomas did that. Wow. And yet, I heard it myself.

“Let today be the last time you throw that worthless maggot in my face.” Valentino’s voice is cold and unforgiving. “If you want to compare me to someone, at least let it be someone worthy enough to clean my shoes.”

With that, he walks out of the room.