Page 51 of Fight Me Little Pearl
As soon as I open my eyes the next morning, I reach for my phone on the bedstand. It’s already nine, and I know Valentino must already be up and working, but I must talk to him. I could hardly sleep last night after my Mama’s talk. It was like the scales fell off my eyes and I saw how wrong I was. And I don’t want to carry on under this ugly black cloud of my own making for one second longer.
I cringe to think I even threw Thomas in Valentino’s face. My hypocrisy stinks, and I’m angry at myself for being so naïve and emotional. As much as I liked to castigate Valentino, he has never rubbed another woman in my face. When I brought up the issue of Vica, he reassured me of his loyalty and readily agreed to never associate with her again.
But me? What do I do?
Every time there’s a misunderstanding, I bring up Thomas. That is a kind of cheating too. Emotional cheating. I don’t have to sleep with Thomas to be unfaithful to Valentino. Even though in an ideal world Thomas would be the best man for me, I’m not living in an ideal world. I stood in Church and right there in front of God, I made some vows to him. And I intend to keep them. I want to be loyal to Valentino. He is my husband. For better or for worse. Nonna Fabiola’s words ring in my ears.
Everything is already perfect, you just can’t see it because you think it should be different.
My heart almost stops when I hear the ringing tone, and my fingers tighten around the phone. I nearly hang up when he picks it up.
“Hello.”
His husky voice washes over me, and I realize how much I miss him. His voice, his touch, his mouth, everything. I miss him so much, and I want him now.
“It’s Francesca,” I say stupidly.
“I know.”
“Can you send Vance to come pick me up?”
“Why?”
“I want to see you. There’s something we must discuss.”
“I’m busy, Francesca. I?—”
“I have to see you, and it’s urgent. Okay?”
After a brief pause, he says, “Okay. Dutch will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you.” He hangs up immediately, and I understand. He’s upset, but not for long. I intend to make him forgive me.
He must. He just must.
Chapter Twenty-Four
VALENTINO
Hmmm… Francesca wants to see me urgently. I wonder what she wants as I hang up and turn towards Enzo. We received information that he was subtly asking around about where Franco’s new residence was.
“Tell me, what does Sal want with Franco?” I ask.
Enzo looks at me calmly. I know that look. I’ve seen it before. It is the look of men who have stopped thinking for themselves because they’ve brainwashed themselves into believing their entire worth and identity lay in their undying allegiance to whatever mafia family they have joined. I could tear him limb from limb and he will remain fiercely loyal to Sal.
“My situation is simple,” he says. “You’ll kill me while trying to make me talk, or I’ll be killed when I return because my boss will assume I’ve turned on them and become a liability. Either way, I’m a dead man walking so I’d rather die a man of honor.” The cords in his neck pulse even though his expression shows not the slightest fear of his impending death.
“Yes, you’re a dead man, but you get to decide if you die alone or you take your blameless family with you.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, sudden panic flaring into his eyes. “That’s not what we do. We don’t bring women and children into our business. They are off-limits. Those are the rules. We are men of honor. We have to play by the rules.”
“I’m not part of your cult, Enzo. I don’t have to follow the rules and fake codes of honor you do.”
“But you are. I know all about you. I know what you have done to get where you are.”
I laugh shortly. “You really think we are playing the same game. The game you’re playing is for mugs. Look at you. After everything you’ve done for Sal, you’re barely making ends meet. All the spoils are eaten up by the top brass, while the fools like you get to fight over the crumbs. If you’d only put your pride aside and admit you’re giving your blood sweat and tears to men who can do nothing for you, you’d see that you’d make more money running a hotdog stand. So I’ll ask you again. What does Sal want with Franco?”
“I took an oath of silence,” he says stubbornly.
