Page 91

“Got it.”
“Can you drive any slower?” I growl at Dutch when I hang up. “Step on the gas or get the fuck out and let me drive myself!”
There are old demons inside me, waking up, looking around, hungry for trouble.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
FRANCESCA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m5N9IHqqGcA
I drove all night
Iwake 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 lacksexual 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.”