Page 48 of Fight Me Little Pearl
“I’d like to go to my grandfather’s house.”
I freeze. “What?”
Her lips tremble. “I want to see my mom.”
“You can see her tomorrow. Get in the car.”
She shakes her soaked head. “I want to see her now. Not tomorrow.”
We stare at each other for the longest time. I drink in the sight of her. There’s a vulnerability about her that I do not want to argue with. Almost as if I could break her if I’m not careful.
“Vance!” I snap my fingers. “Get the second vehicle. You’re taking Francesca to her grandfather’s house.”
“I’ll just order a ride and-”
“No,” I cut her off harshly. “And by the way, your family doesn’t live in the same house anymore.”
“What?” Her eyes widen. “No one told me this! Are they okay?”
“They’re under my protection. It’s insulting that you ask me that.”
She swallows. “Then why did they move?”
“You’re headed there. You can ask them when you arrive.”
Francesca narrows her eyes and appears to want to say more, but Vance pulls up in a Mercedes. I hold the door open for her. I hold her gaze for a brief moment before closing the door. The Mercedes drives off and I feel a great emptiness inside me.
I turn away and enter my Audi.
As Dutch drives me away I turn and stare out of the window. My father was right. Love makes a man weak. I am no longer the man I once was.
I have become weak.
Chapter Twenty-Three
FRANCESCA
“Oh, Francesca!” My mother hugs me tightly. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. I didn’t know you were coming today. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have cooked something special for you.” She pulls back, her gaze roaming my face.
Tears sting my eyes at how beautiful and relaxed she looks. I attribute it to the fact that it’s because she doesn’t have to worry about anything anymore. She’s safe and protected in this gorgeous brownstone house in a good neighborhood… all because of Valentino.
‘They’re under my protection; it’s insulting that you ask me that,’ he said, and I know he meant it.
“I didn’t know I would be coming today. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,” I explain lamely. “We just arrived from Italy a few minutes ago, and I decided I must see you.”
“Really?” Mama beams with happiness at the unexpected pleasure of my company. “Well, come on in. There’s some leftover lasagna in the fridge. I’ll warm it up for you.” She starts to drag me towards the kitchen, but I stop her.
“I’m not hungry, Mama. I ate on the plane.”
“Nonsense. That was hours ago. You-”
She stops suddenly when Nonno appears in the hallway, confusion and bewilderment on his face.
“What are you doing here, Francesca?” he asks suspiciously.
“You don’t seem very happy to see me. I just came to visit.” I walk towards him and kiss his cheeks. “You look well.”
There is no answering smile as he peers at me anxiously. “What about your husband? Does he know you’re here?”
