The Mafia King's Bride

The Love Of His Life

Pearl closed her bedroom door behind her with a soft click, the empty hallway causing the sound to echo.

She had not thought to ask Everest where exactly his kitchen was and now she would have to find it by herself or ask for directions from someone.

The image of her decapitated head being speared on a stake by a vengeful member of the Stone clan made her shudder and helped her make a decision.

"Finding it by myself, it is." She muttered as she squared her shoulders, took several deep breaths and made her way towards the other sections of the house.

It was currently 7:15 pm and she had just enough time to put something delicious and a little classy together that would impress him.

"Oh my god," she gasped, coming to a stop. "What if he has allergies or doesn't like what I cook? What if he was traumatised by one of the ingredients as a child and has a panic attack because of it?" She pondered out loud.

"I mean, on one hand, we could bond as I comfort him and he tells me about his personal life and childhood but on the other hand, he would have a panic attack when he should be resting from a hard day at work and dodging bullets."

The possibilities were endless and she suddenly wished she had a phone to call him with or had bothered to ask him important questions instead of planning the date out, in her head.

"Date?! Woah Woah Woah, Pearl, slow down. It's not a date," she insisted to herself and began walking down the hall again. "It's just a friendly, platonic dinner between two friends who might not be friends and not because there is any romance between them or anything like that." She ranted, flinging open a random door and distractedly stepping into the hallway that it led to.

"Do not make this awkward or weird and don't make a fool of yourself by assuming..."

"Oh," said a voice, interrupting Pearl's soliloquy, "it's you." Said the other woman with a curious tilt of her head.

Pearl blushed at the thought of being caught talking to herself and self-consciously straightened out the dress she had found in the closet in her room.

"You look good," the other woman pointed out, her shrewd blue eyes, taking in Pearl's form. "Are you dressed like that for someone?" She probed and Pearl's blush darkened at the implications.

She had put more effort into her looks than she usually would tonight but she refused to think too deeply about it.

"I just... dinner with. Yeah," she said, awkwardly, then frowned. "I'm sorry, but who are you exactly?"

"Sofia Redhill," the other woman introduced as she made her way closer to Pearl, her heels muffled by the carpet. "My father is a close associate of Mr. Stone and I have known him since I was a little girl."

Pearl smiled, comforted by the presence of another female after being surrounded by crazy, deadly men for so long.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Sofia. I'm..."

"Pearl," the other woman supplied, ignoring her hand that was held out and forcing the redhead to drop it, awkwardly.

"The little wh*re Everest took pity on and brought back with him." She sneered and Pearl's brain stuttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Women like you are cheap and expendable to a man like my Everest and you'll be gone before the end of the month."

Pearl blinked, dumbfounded by the exchange and shocked that she was experiencing such an encounter.

"Are you being serious right now?" She laughed and gasped when Sofia suddenly grabbed the strap of her dress with clawed fingers and yanked her closer until their faces were less than an inch apart.

"I'm going to explain something very important to you and I want you to use that dried-out sponge you call a brain to note it down and remember it..."

"I'd rather not..."

"Everet is mine," the blue-eyed woman snarled, her pretty face twisting into something ugly, "and he has always been mine. And I am not going to stand idly by while some cheap tart who has seen more c*ck than she has books," she gestured at the red and purple bruises littering Pearl's exposed bust and neck area, and the redhead bristled, "get in the way of us being together."

She let go of Pearl's sleeve, wiping her hand on the fabric of her trousers like she had touched something filthy. "Do you understand me, honey?"

"No, I do not because I don't speak bullsh*t or crazy." The amber-eyed woman sassed as she tugged her now rumpled sleeve back into place while levelling the taller woman with a mean glare.

"If you have to stalk me down and threaten me to stay away from him, then maybe he's not as much of yours as you think he is. And maybe," she tapped her chin thoughtfully, "you're delusional and in desperate need of a reality check, honey," she spat, "so allow me to give you one."

"I will not stand here and be insulted by McCarthy's wh○re..."

"I'm all dolled up for you precious Everest who invited me to cook and have dinner with him and thanks to you a good," she glanced over at one of the clocks on the wall, "eleven minutes of my precious time has gone to waste and I might even be late for our date..."

"It's not a date," denied the blue-eyed woman with a humourless laugh. "You're lying to get a reaction out of me. Everest would never..."

"They were his words, not mine," Pearl shrugged with a smug smile, praying the other woman would not bring it up with the grey-eyed man.

Sofia's face slowly turned red, her breathing coming out in short, laboured pants. If the other woman had not just insulted and verbally berated her she would act on her concern but as it was Sofia did not deserve a shred of empathy.

"You're a..."

"Sl.ut, prostitute, opportunistic wh.o.re who stole your man?" Pearl listened, boredly, smiling in amusement at the end. "Maybe. But at the end of the day, when he's tired and looking for some peace of mind, he'll come to me and not you."

Sofia grew still, an unhinged look in her eyes that Pearl had seen in Leonard's eyes before, which is what prepared her to duck when the other woman suddenly swung her fist at her.

Pearl backed away, quickly regaining her footing and widening her stance in preparation for a fight. "Don't start what you can not finish," she warned and the other woman let out an unhinged laugh as her hand crept into the inner pocket of her coat and pulled out something.

"Oh, believe me, darling," she flicked the swish blade open and Pearl's eyes narrowed in alarm and growing fear, "I'm ready to finish this sh*t right here and now."

"You wouldn't."

"I've been killing since I was old enough to run, Pearl Sinclair," she whispered with a crazed smile as she played with the knife. "I would."

Pearl quickly took off down the hall, shoving past Sofia who swung her blade, savagely, at her, nearly cutting into her exposed flesh.

She sprinted past windows and paintings as Sofia, who was surprisingly quick in heels, chased after her, all while praying that they would bump into a guard or someone who would help.

"I'M GOING TO GUT YOU SLOWLY LIKE THE PIG YOU ARE!" Sofia screeched, madly, and Pearl pushed herself to go faster.

She smiled, whooping in triumph when Sofia tripped over the carpet and crashed to the ground with a painful thud.

The redhead continued running, knowing better than to stop, and after what felt like hours of opening doors and peeking into hallways, she finally found the cursed kitchen.

Pearl fell to her knees as she panted, sweat pouring down her face and cooling on her skin, then glanced over to the clock on the wall.

She had only forty minutes left to get everything ready, cutting her already short list of food options in half so she quickly got to work, ignoring how bruised and tired she felt.

Being a professional chef and waitress, when some of her cheap bosses decided to take advantage of her, gave Pearl an advantage she was more than happy to use to impress Everest.

She knew that having anything romantic or beyond platonic with him was nothing but a fleeting fantasy, which is why she did not give much thought to her growing affection towards him. But that did not stop her from wanting to impress him, considering everything he had risked to save her.

"Alright," she said to herself as she stared down at the gathered ingredients perched on the granite countertop of the large kitchen, then at the ticking clock.

"Let's do this."