Chapter 25 - Maxim

Earlier that day

Pearl sits on the couch, looking down at her hands. She knows what's going on. She glances up at me as I enter the room, her eyes glassy. "I have to talk to you."

"Come with me," I say, waiting for her to stand before leaving the room, and heading across the hall to the formal living room.

Pearl hovers in the doorway, looking like she's torn between sitting and running as I go to the mantle and takedown a picture. I open the back of the silver frame, sliding the photo out.

Even though it has a few creases and crinkles, the picture is still nearly as clear as it was taken. Without a word, I hand it to her.

She stares at the photograph for a couple minutes like she's not sure what to think. Her mouth opens and closes, words forming on the tip of her tongue, only to die off in a strangled sound as her hand flies to her lips.

"Do you still think I killed your father?"

"How do you have this?" Pearl asks, syllables wavering and cracking. She takes a seat on one of the couches, although it looks like she's close to fainting as she leans back, holding the picture in her hands like it's gold. "What is this?"

"That was me and your father on his twenty-third birthday. We've been friends since we were children. He was raised alongside me and then he was trained in the same way as me and my cousins were. He knew he never be a Bratva boss, but he was in line to be my second in command and he was until the day he died."

"This doesn't make sense. He worked for the Italians, he worked for Nicolo. For as long as I can remember, he was always working for them. How could he have been working for you?"

"Maybe the same way you infiltrated my house under the guise of being my wife when you're working for the Italians." My words get sharper than intended, but there's still the sting of her betrayal sitting between us. "When were you going to tell me about that?"

"How did you know?" Pearl places the picture in her lap, careful not to tear the edges any more than they already are. "I was going to tell you today. That's what I wanted to talk to you about this afternoon. I just—I can't seem to get the words out. Every time I start thinking about telling you who I am and what I've done. I can't."

"Even after everything, you still don't trust me." I scoff, my tongue poking the inside of my cheek as I sit across from her on the edge of the coffee table. "It fucking ends here, Pearl. You're either in this with me or you're out. But if you're out, you don't get my help. You don't get anything from me. You pack your fucking bags, you leave, you don't look back."

"I don't want to leave."

Her cheeks are hollow, her face drawn tight. She looks like she's inches away from fleeing to the door and running for her life. She shifts in the seat, hands pressing against the cushions like she's going to stand up.

I lean forward. "You don't want to leave Pearl, so where the fuck do you think you're going now?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

"If I was going to kill you, why would I have given you the option to stay? Think a little bit, Pearl. You're a smart woman. You're educated."

"If you're not going to kill me, why am I here? What do you want from me?"

"The list is long, and I don't think you're prepared for everything on it. But we're going to start with killing that fucking bastard, Nicolo Mancini."

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice breaking on a sob, her shoulders shaking. "I should have told you a long time ago. I just—I was told that you were the one who killed my father, and I couldn't see past that. I wanted for so long to kill you. I hated you. The only thing I knew was to hate you."

"I didn't kill Aaron. He was a spy planted with the Italians. Nicolo found out, I'm assuming, and that's why he staged his murder. Blaming it on me was just him being dramatic. I searched for him for years. But he fled the country after your father's death. Every time he'd reappear in New York for a week or two at a time, he'd be gone again just as quickly. And even those were just rumors. There is no confirmation that he had ever been spotted in the city."

"He worked overseas."

I shake my head, reaching for the gun in my waistband and setting it on the table beside me.

It's a cheap intimidation tactic, but I know it's going to get her attention on me and keep it there. The last thing I need is for her to start overanalyzing everything, convincing herself that Nicolo is still telling the truth.

"Is Nicolo in New York right now?"

Pearl pauses, and for a moment I think she's going to cover for him. She could continue to lie to me. I have no clue what that bastard put in her head for seven years.

All the things that didn't line up when I first started talking to her are now starting to fall into place.

"I've spent seven years of my life hunting down Nicolo and looking for you. After a certain point, we had to assume you were dead, but we didn't give up hope in finding you. My men across the world have been keeping an eye out, waiting. And you've been right here the entire time."

"A group home." Pearl takes the picture in her hands once more, looking down at it. "Everything I believe was a lie."

"How are you supposed to know any better? You were fifteen when your father died, and Nicolo was as good as your uncle. As far as you know, your father has always worked for the Italians. All you knew about the Bratva is that you were supposed to hate us. I can't blame you for that."

"Why would he want me to hate you if he had been working for you the entire time?"

"The last thing he needed was a child going around and telling Uncle Nicolo that your father was a liar. Do you understand how quickly he would have been killed if anybody had ever learned the truth? He was a deep plant in the Italian mafia. He had access to everything and everyone. He was the right hand to Nicolo for several years before his death."

Her face goes blank, her expression neutral as she looks at me. The tears dry, her mouth pressing into a thin line. "You're telling me the truth."

"Of course, I am. Why would I lie to you about something like this?"

"I couldn't tell you why anybody keeps lying to me these days, but it seems to be the new normal. I don't know what to do, or who to believe. Nothing. None of it makes sense. I keep thinking that there should be some way that this ends. Somebody has to die for the death of my father."

"You think you're the only one who wants vengeance for his death? You got another thing coming if that's what you believe. Nicolo killed my best friend."

"You're going to kill him but then what happens to me? I lied to you. I pretend to be one person when I'm a completely different person. You still don't know who I am."

"You're the one who said that you wanted to start this marriage over and be honest with each other. Let's count this as day one."

"Is that what you want? Even after all I've put you through since we got together. I almost got you killed. And you still want to count this is day one of our marriage?"

"I was always going to marry you, regardless of who you were or what you have done in your lifetime. Do you think I was going to let the single most interesting woman I've ever met slip through my fucking fingers? Please, Pearl, give me a little more credit than that."

A small smile quirks the corner of her mouth, and it's in that moment that I know once this is all over and behind us, we're going to be all right.

It may take some time but once vengeance is out of the way, life will be better.

Pearl gets to her feet, a slight tremor still in her hands as she holds the picture close. "And you're telling me the truth? You're not going to turn around and put a bullet in my back?"

"Just fucking trust me."

She studies me for a moment, espresso eyes widening. It's as if she's truly seeing me for the first time. "I trust you."

"Good. Do you believe me?"

"I don't know who to believe anymore. Nicolo tells me one thing, you tell me another, and all I know is that the truth lies somewhere in the middle of that. Both of you claim that the other one killed my father, but how am I supposed to know the truth?"

"Well, I've got an idea."