Page 29 of Fight Me Little Pearl

Nonna’s cunning eyes gleam. “I’ve heard a little about you, too. I hear you hated your father as much as I did. Is it really true you hated him so much you refused to spend a dime of his tainted money from the time you turned eighteen?”

Frances glances at me before saying, “Yes.”

I frown. Is that why she is returning the stuff she bought in Paris? Because she hates me that much?

“I also heard,” Nonna continues, “that you believe your husband is like your father. If there is one thing I can say with certainty, child, it is this. Your husband is nothing like your father.”

Francesca glances at me again, a strange speculative expression in her eyes. “You’re that sure?”

Nonna Isadora smiles. “Absolutely. You can take my word for it. Now go join the party. I won’t be able to attend, but do come and see me before you leave.”

Chapter Fifteen

FRANCESCA

Castillo Dimora is the perfect home for a formidable woman like Nonna Isadora. Ancient and full of dark secrets. If these gray stone walls could talk…

Valentino and I pass through the grand hall with thick dark beams in the ceiling and a truly massive fireplace. Centuries ago, I imagine a whole pig on a spit would have been roasted in it. I can hear the party music flowing in through the open doors, and my body screams to run the other way. I am not in the mood to socialize, especially after I found out that Valentino pointed a gun at Matteo, a sweet man more harmless than a fly.

At the airport yesterday he was funny and genuinely warm. What could have happened within a few hours that warranted Valentino threatening his own cousin with a gun? And all the while, poor Freya was in my room, trying to make me comfortable and welcome. I wonder what she must think of me now.

Despite what Nonna Isadora said, my husband is turning out to be exactly like my father.

I try to pull away from him, but he holds me tightly to his side.

He is a killer. How could I have forgotten so quickly? He probably kills as easily as I breathe and represents the dark path of life that I never wanted for myself. It’s a terrible thing to confess to, but I’m tired of lying about my desires and feelings. The unpalatable and unvarnished truth is: I’m so horribly attracted to him. I’m like a moth to a flame. My wings are getting singed and turned to ashes, but I cannot stop moving closer and closer to him even if it means my own destruction.

After last night, I’ve been unable to stop thinking about him. I’m obsessed by thoughts of what he did to me by the poolside and I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Even now, as he forcefully holds me to his side, the contact of his arm on my skin burns. And between my legs, my clit is so hot and swollen it feels like a wound. A wound that is throbbing for him.

Beyond the open door is a large, lush garden strung up with thousands of party lights. It is full of people, both familiar and unfamiliar. There is a full band playing on a stage in front of a dance platform. Facing it are two very long dining tables with cream chairs wearing blue bows. Waiters dressed in black and white work the crowd and a whole horde of colorfully dressed children probably hyped up on too much sugar, are running wild on the lawn. I glance up to see Valentino’s gaze roaming the guests, and my heart falls.

“What?” I ask. “Looking for Vica?”

His eyes widen in an uncharacteristic moment of surprise, and I grab the moment to escape his hold and walk through the door on my own. The party stops, and everyone turns to watch me. Seconds later, Valentino is beside me.

Serena steps out from the celebratory crowd and raises a flute of pink champagne. “Don Barone and La Signore Barone!”

Drinks are pushed into our hands. I smile awkwardly while everyone claps and cheers. After that congratulatory moment,the crowd returns to their respective conversations. Without another glance at Valentino, I head towards Serena and Isabella. When they see me approach, their smiles widen.

“Trouble in paradise?” Serena asks, nodding at Valentino.

“Are we that obvious?” I ask tightly.

The women laugh. “No, we’re just professional gossips.”

I laugh at that, but my laughter fades quickly. “I’m so sorry about the incident with Matteo. Do you know what happened?”

The two women shrug before Serena speaks. “Your first lesson is to learn never to ask what happens when the men gather together. It’s safer for us and them if we never know what’s going on.”

I turn to look at Valentino. He is talking to Roberto and Giuseppe, and he takes my breath away. He’s in a black suit like always, but today he looks particularly handsome and elegant. Valentino glances up and catches me staring. He holds my stare for a moment longer than necessary before returning his attention back to Roberto.

Isabella nudges me. “Oi, oi, that man cannot take his eyes off you.”

I have to refrain from rolling my eyes. He’s pretending, but I have to admit Valentino is very good at this game. His stare is so intoxicating, I almost believe it is real.

“What’s the stage for?”

“Eros Ramazzotti is coming to perform for us,” both women cry excitedly at the same time.

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