Page 47
Story: Fight Me Little Pearl
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 thephone 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 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 thephone 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.
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