24. Pearl
24
PEARL
I woke to warmth and the gentle sound of steady breathing. Early morning light filtered through Giuliano's bedroom windows, bathing everything in soft gold.
For a moment, I just let myself feel what was around me: Angelo's arm draped protectively across my waist; Nico's strong, solid presence at my back; Rocco's fingers tangled loosely with mine.
The scent of coffee drifted from beyond the bedroom, mixed with quiet voices and the faint clatter of dishes. I smiled at Giuliano before I saw him, somehow knowing he'd be watching.
"Morning, princess." His voice was rough with sleep as he brought me coffee, careful not to disturb the others.
I shifted slightly to sit up, body deliciously sore in ways that made memories of last night flutter through my stomach. Coffee first. Processing everything else could wait.
The sound of something clattering in the kitchen made Rocco stir. "If they're destroying my coffee beans again…!"
"Better go defend them," I murmured, earning a sleepy kiss before he untangled himself.
Giuliano's ensuite was ridiculously huge, all marble and glass. I caught my reflection as I stepped in and froze. My hair was a mess, tangled waves falling past my shoulders.
"A lady always looks perfect, Pearl. What would people think if they saw you like this?"
Vittorio's voice echoed in my head as my fingers automatically moved to smooth the strands. How many mornings had I spent in my room, sitting perfectly still while his personal stylist worked? The way he'd drift his fingers through my hair afterward, checking their work. Making sure his prized possession was flawless.
"Don't be ridiculous! Cutting it would ruin everything we've worked for. Now go to your room until you remember how to behave."
I gripped the edge of the counter, suddenly angry. Even now, after everything that had changed, the memories of how he'd controlled me were still there. Every long, golden strand had been a chain he'd crafted. I hadn't even fully understood until this moment.
My hands shook as I gathered the mass of it, twisting it back like I'd done thousands of times. The face in the mirror looked young, trapped. Not mine.
I walked back out to warmth and the smell of breakfast and men who made me feel safe instead of caged. They must have caught something in my expression because the casual morning energy shifted instantly.
"I need you guys to help me do something." The words tumbled out before I could overthink it. My fingers tugged at my hair. "I want to cut it. I want it gone. Well, not all of it, but..."
"Your hair ?" Luca finally managed, looking stunned.
I nodded, fingers still twisted in the strands.
"Women usually just get bangs after a breakup," Rocco said, earning an elbow from his twin. "What? My ex did that."
"Because that always works out so well," Enzo drawled.
"Like you guys know anything about women's hair," Nico muttered.
"Pretty sure this is different," Enzo drawled. "Though I have to say, princess, you're full of surprises recently."
"I'll help. I've got clippers in my truck," Luca said, already heading for the door.
"The guy with hair down to his ass has clippers?" Giuliano's voice held a hint of laughter, breaking the tension.
"This perfection requires maintenance," Luca shot back, flipping his dark waves dramatically. "Unlike some people who just roll out of bed looking perfect." He threw a pointed look at the twins.
"It's a gift," they said in unison, then grinned at each other.
My heart was pounding as they arranged a chair, but my hands were steady. Nico draped a towel around my shoulders with surprising gentleness.
"Maybe to here?" Luca gathered my hair at shoulder length. "Still long enough to pull back if you need, but..."
"But different," I finished. "Mine."
The first snip of scissors made my breath catch. A golden length fell to the floor.
"Tell us if you need to stop," Angelo said quietly.
I shook my head. "Just keep going."
They worked together with surprising coordination, each taking turns. Even Enzo's complaints about technique couldn't hide how carefully he handled each section.
"If you guys ever get tired of the criminal lifestyle, you could open a salon," I teased, earning several creative suggestions about where I could stick that idea.
"Almost done," Nico announced finally. "Just need to even up the back."
I held still, marveling at how much lighter my head felt. How much lighter everything felt. Each snip was like cutting away another thread that had tied me to Vittorio's authority.
"There." Finally, they stepped back.
I almost didn't want to look, but the mirror couldn't wait forever. The woman who looked back at me was... me. Just me. Hair falling in soft waves just past my shoulders, framing my face in a way that made me look more alive. Freer.
"I love it," I whispered, touching the ends in wonder. Something tight in my chest had loosened.
"Beautiful," Luca said softly, and the others murmured agreement.
Angelo shifted, that protective tension creeping into his shoulders. "Vittorio's going to?—"
"Oh please," I grinned, turning to face them. "I've got my story all ready. 'Oh Daddy,'" I pitched my voice higher, playing up the helpless princess act, "'these terrible, brutal men held me down and cut my hair. I fought so hard but there were seven of them...'" I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead like an old-time movie star from the silent era.
Rocco choked on his coffee. Even Nico's worried expression cracked slightly.
"'They said it was punishment for trying to escape,'" I continued, enjoying their reactions. "'The scary one with the long hair did it.'"
"Hey!" Luca protested. "When did I become the scary one?"
"Have you seen yourself before coffee?" Enzo drawled.
"I'm going straight to hell for laughing at this," Angelo muttered, but his shoulders had relaxed.
"You know what you really look like?" Vincenzo said quietly, his eyes soft. "Like yourself. Strong. Free."
"Like a warrior queen," Enzo added with that devastating smile of his. "Ready to take back her kingdom."
Something warm bloomed in my chest at their words. I touched my shortened hair again, loving how light it felt. How right.
"Not funny," Giuliano said, but his lips twitched. His hands settled on my shoulders, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "We have to get serious. We need to go over the plan. Everything has to be perfect."
I nodded. Tomorrow I'd go back to Vittorio's world of rigid control, but I'd be going back changed. Stronger.
Time to plan how to bring his empire down.