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)
13
PEARL
The gunfire was deafening. Huddled in the safe room behind my closet, I tried to focus on breathing, not on the lingering warmth where Vincenzo's lips had touched my skin. The walls seemed to shake with each explosion, making me wonder if they were really as secure as promised.
A pattern of knocks cut through the chaos. "Pearl?" A familiar voice, though not one I'd dealt with much during my weeks here. "We need to move."
The lock beeped and the door opened to reveal one of Giuliano's men —Luca, I remembered. Giuliano had mentioned him once or twice, describing him as someone who kept spirits up during tough times. Now he was in full tactical gear, his expression serious.
His long dark hair was pulled back in a messy knot, and even through the tactical vest, I could tell he was built lean but strong. The stubble along his jaw caught the dim light as he moved.
"You good to run?" His eyes swept over me, taking in my silk pajamas and bare feet. "Ah. Not exactly escape attire."
"I'm fine." I tried to sound braver than I felt. "What's happening?"
"Short version?" He checked the hallway. "Vittorio's done playing nice. Sent his men to fetch you home." The way he said it, casual despite the gravity, somehow made it less terrifying. "Giuliano wants you moved somewhere less obvious."
An explosion rocked the building. Luca moved instantly, stepping in front of me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
He led me through service corridors I hadn't known existed, moving with surprising grace for someone his size. Every now and then he'd pause, head tilted like he was listening to something through his earpiece.
"Are you heading to the tunnels?" I heard someone say through his radio.
"Already on it." Luca guided me down what looked like a maintenance shaft. "Though I still say we should've installed that waterslide."
"Focus, Luca." Giuliano's voice, tense with gunfire in the background.
"Always do, boss. Just with style."
The tunnel was narrow and dark, lit only by strips along the floor. Above us, more gunfire erupted. Each blast made me flinch. Without warning, Luca's warm hand found mine in the darkness, his grip firm but gentle. The strange comfort of his touch caught me off guard.
"Stay close," he murmured, his voice low and near my ear. The tunnel forced us closer, and I was suddenly very aware of him—the warmth of his body behind mine, the strength in his hand holding mine, the way his breath stirred my hair. Even in crisis, something about his presence was... distracting in the best possible way.
We emerged into an underground garage I hadn't known existed. A sleek black car waited in the shadows.
"In you go," he said, opening the passenger door while scanning the garage for threats. "Fair warning though: Giuliano usually makes me ride in the back. Says it's better for his blood pressure."
I quickly discovered why Giuliano preferred Luca in the back seat. The car shot through narrow alleys and side streets I'd never seen, taking turns that seemed to defy physics. I gripped the door handle, torn between terror and exhilaration.
"Try not to look at the road," he said, voice steady as he took another impossible corner. "And maybe don't tell Giuliano about this part."
"What?" I twisted to look behind us, catching glimpses of dark vehicles in pursuit.
Nothing we can't handle." He maneuvered the powerful car like it was part of him, movements smooth despite our speed. A sharp turn brought us impossibly close to a wall, but his hands were steady on the wheel, completely in control. I should have been terrified. Instead, I found myself stealing glances at him—the sharp concentration in his eyes, the slight smile playing at his lips.
When we finally lost our tail, his whole demeanor shifted. The intense focus melted into something more relaxed, though his eyes still checked the mirrors regularly.
"So," he said conversationally, "first time being kidnapped from your kidnappers?"
"Is that what this is?"
"Nah, this is more like strategic relocation." His grin was infectious. "With bonus car chase for entertainment value."
"Are you always like this?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.
"Like what?" He glanced over, eyes dancing with mischief. "Devastatingly charming? Unfairly handsome? Just naturally hilarious?"
"Ridiculous," I said, but found myself smiling.
"Ah, that's my specialty. Just ask Giuliano - actually, don't. He's still mad about my last few 'creative' ideas."
We pulled into an underground garage that looked nothing like the luxury buildings I was used to. Everything here felt more real somehow.
"Home sweet, somewhat questionable, home," he announced with that infectious grin of his, killing the engine. His eyes swept over me again, lingering on my bare feet and silk pajamas. "We should probably get you some actual clothes. Unless you're trying to start a new fashion trend—midnight escape chic."