Fight Me Little Pearl

Chapter 50

Chapter Fifty

VALENTINO

“ Y ou’re getting drunk,” Robert complains when I take another gulp from my glass of Scotch. “You’ve almost had a full bottle. Don't take any more.” He reaches for the bottle on my table, and I grab his wrist, tightening my fingers around it until he winces with pain.

“Don’t touch my fucking bottle, or I’ll break your hand.” I pour myself another glass of Scotch. I have a high tolerance for alcohol, but I’m starting to feel a little drunk. Still, I gulp down the alcohol and pour myself another.

“Valentino…” Roberto warns. “Don’t do this.”

I look around my office before I settle my gaze on him. “It’s just alcohol,” I tell him. “Why do you sound like I’m swallowing poison? It’s expensive Scotch. Damn it.” I down the contents of the glass and my stomach burns.

When I pour another glass., Dutch snatches the bottle from my hand and takes several steps away.

“How dare you!”

“I’m sorry, Boss.” He bows his head. “Please forgive me. But you’re killing yourself. Please.”

“For fucks sake. It’s fucking Scotch!” I growl. “Why are you all acting like it’s poison? Jesus!”

I slump against my chair, taking deep breaths to calm the storm in my body. No, it has nothing to do with alcohol. These fools around me are simply exaggerating. It has everything to do with the pain in my heart.

I’m hurting, point blank.

It’s been a week since I moved Francesca out of the house, and it feels like hell. So many nights I reach for her, only to come up empty before remembering she’s no longer here… and she will never be here. Still, it doesn’t stop my heart from hurting every second of the day.

I miss her so much. God, I miss her. Sometimes, I want to see her just once, but I know it won’t be enough and it will only make the pain worse. I’m an addict. An addict needs to completely move away from the source of his addiction.

“Do you want me to kill him?” Vance steps forward like he knows what I’m thinking. “I think we should. He’s always been a pain in the ass.”

In my current condition it would be nice to know the man she loves is dead, but killing him will be showing weakness. The major reason I let Francesca go is to show strength and let her know I’m okay with her decision to be with Thomas. Sneaking behind her back to kill him is the biggest sign of weakness. I won’t stoop that low.

“No. We’re not killing him. He’s innocent.”

Vance sighs and moves away, leaving me to my thoughts again.

The alcohol has made me maudlin and I start to long for my wife. Francesca. My little pearl.

Who knew love could hurt this much? I slip my hand into my pocket and close it around the gold bracelet. I still carry it around even though the owner broke my heart. With the number of places this bracelet has followed me to, I consider it my lucky charm.

I should probably get rid of it soon because it reminds me too much of Francesca, which is the last thing I want. But for today, tomorrow, and probably the next, I will keep it.

“I think you need to leave New York,” Roberto says. “Perhaps a vacation.”

I sit up, my lips widening into a smile. “You’re right, Roberto. I need to get out of this oppressive house. I should have given it to her and found myself an apartment. I’m going to a club.” I get to my feet, and a wave of dizziness almost floors me. I stumble upright, blinking vigorously before regaining my balance.

“Let’s go,” Roberto says, and there is a tingle of weariness in his voice.

The club is teeming with people, and I’m hardly inside when a couple of ladies sidle up to me, their eyes seductively roaming my body. One of them is brave enough to touch my shoulder, and I put my arm around her, pulling her to me in one fluid move.

“What’s your name, pretty thing?” I whisper into her ear as she writhes against me in rhythm with the music.

“Alice.” She giggles, pressing closer and suddenly loops her arms around my neck. I freeze because it feels wrong. Completely and profoundly wrong. Francesca is my wife. I belong to her. I feel myself become suddenly sober.

Alice stares at me for a moment before fearfully sucking in a breath and hightailing it away from me. My body is full of anger at the liberty she took, and I’m sure she saw it reflected in my eyes. That's why she bolted.

“You’ve traumatized the poor thing for life,” Roberto says.

“Roberto.” I glance at him.

“Yeah?”

“I’m fucked.”

“What do you mean?” He frowns. “Is the alcohol starting to catch up with you? I knew you should have stopped ages ago.”

“Francesca.”

“Francesca?” he echoes, confused.

“Yes. I’m madly and irrevocably in love with her. My life is ruined.”