Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
"You've expanded your collection." Alessandro's cultured voice broke through my reverie. I hadn't heard him enter; I was getting careless.
"I don't recall inviting you to my home." I carefully returned the lock to its velvet box, aware of his eyes tracking the movement.
"Ah, but we have business to discuss." He settled uninvited into the leather chair across from my desk, every inch the ambitious predator in his tailored suit. "The clinic plans are ready. Permits approved. Construction could begin next week."
I studied him through narrowed eyes. Alessandro Russo—new money, earned through his network of private wellness clinics catering to Providence's elite. His specialty was "therapeutic adjustments" for difficult wives and daughters, all hidden behind legitimate medical treatments. He'd started small, but his recent investments in certain offshore ventures had caught my attention. Combined with his legitimate pharmaceutical interests, he was quickly becoming one of Providence's notable newcomers.
He'd been circling Pearl for months, becoming more insistent with each passing week. Now that she was with the Barbieri boy, he'd become even bolder with his visits, each time pressing his case. His first major power play, and he had the audacity to think he deserved my masterpiece.
"The timing seems... convenient." I traced my finger along the edge of Pearl's childhood photo. "My stepdaughter gets taken, and suddenly you have solutions."
His smile didn't reach his eyes. "The Barbieri boy thinks too small. Playing gangster with his petty territory grabs." He leaned forward, manicured fingers trailing over my desk. "I'm offering you an empire, Vittorio. Your ports, my medical supply routes. Think bigger: monthly shipments through legitimate channels. My contacts overseas have shown me how profitable certain specialized services can be." His voice turned eager.
"The clinic serves multiple purposes—upstairs, a legitimate fertility center. But below..." His eyes glittered with dark excitement. "The shipping manifests show medical supplies. But with your port access, we could move much more valuable cargo. By the time anyone starts looking, the merchandise is already processed through our network. Clean, efficient, profitable. Once we prove the model here in Providence."
"And Pearl?" I set down the lock of hair, fury coiling in my gut at his presumption.
"She's different," Alessandro's eyes gleamed with something that made even my skin crawl. "Having her would cement my position. Once she's my wife, the clinic gives us perfect cover for ensuring her complete compliance. No more defiance, no more dreams of escape."
I lifted another lock of her hair from the box, this one from her first month in the penthouse, when she'd finally stopped begging to go out. The thought of another man claiming ownership of my masterpiece made my blood boil. And yet... if everything else failed, if the Barbieri boy proved more troublesome than expected... Having Pearl completely broken, her spirit systematically crushed in rooms I controlled, could be useful. A contingency plan.
"Your proposal is... interesting," I said carefully, testing the waters.
"The human mind is such a delicate thing," he said, voice soft with ambition. "And with your port control combined with my growing network..." His eyes glittered. "Think of it, Vittorio. An empire built on broken spirits."
"You sound confident," I said. "Giuliano Barbieri isn't known for surrendering what he takes."
Alessandro's laugh was like silk over steel. "That arrogant child playing dress-up in his father's suit? The Barbieri blood isn't as thick as they think. Once we're established, handling upstart families becomes therapeutic."
I opened my desk drawer, lifting out Marco's old photo. My trusting friend, never suspecting his closest ally would betray him.
"Pearl inherited her father's unfortunate trust in others." A fatal flaw that had cost Marco everything. One that might still prove useful with his daughter.
"A flaw we'll soon correct," Alessandro said, spreading blueprints across my desk. For over an hour, he detailed his plans: the clinic's design, the processing operation, the distribution networks. Everything hidden behind state-of-the-art medical facilities and spotless paperwork.
"Construction begins Monday," he said finally, standing to leave. "I'll have the contracts drawn up. Both marriage and business." His presumption was staggering, already talking about marriage contracts when I hadn't given him an answer.
I watched him go, mind turning over possibilities. His ambition was clear, his plans promising if raw. The marriage proposal still made my skin crawl—Pearl was mine, my creation, my masterpiece. But having Alessandro's clinic as a fallback... if the Barbieri situation went south... yes, that could prove invaluable. No need to say yes to the marriage yet. Let him think he has a chance while I keep my options open.
I stared at her photo, seeing that flicker of defiance she still tried to hide behind her obedient facade. Soon the clinic would cement my power. Soon Pearl would learn her final lesson in obedience.
"Soon," I whispered to her photo. "Soon you'll be home where you belong. And this time, we'll make sure you never forget your place again."