Shimmers of Pearl (The Pearl Trilogy, Part 3) by Arianne Richmonde Page B

details. Men who thought their actions held no consequences. Now, pull the car over, right here.”
    They were on a remote beach miles from anywhere. With one hand still holding the pistol, Alexandre handed Jim a bit of paper with the bank account number of the charity he had set up. “Now, you have a choice. We are going to get out of the car. You can either strip naked and walk home in your bare feet in the snow or we can fight this out, man to man. Whichever you choose, the donation will go ahead as planned.” Alexandre chuckled facetiously. “Hey, don’t look so glum, it’ll be tax deductable – the fact I need you to make that donation means I’m not going to kill you now.”
    “You have a weapon!”
    “I’ll put the gun in the trunk of my car. We can fight it out weapon-free just using the tools that God gave us. Or, Jim, you can strip naked and walk home.”
    “I’d catch hypothermia, are you crazy?” The man began to wheeze.
    “That’s just what I thought you’d say.”
    “Give me a break, man!”
    “Oh I am giving you a break. You’d already be dead if I weren’t such a reasonable man.”
    “This is crazy. It was nearly twenty years ago. What kind of fucked-up vendetta is this?”
    “The Sicilian kind. You know, if you’d just said one simple word beginning with S and showed some kind of remorse, some kind of feeling for the woman you hurt, I would have felt so much more compassion for you.”
    “Jesus! I’m sorry, okay.”
    “Too late, Jim. I know what kind of person you are. The kind who thinks he’s the master of the universe, the kind whose ego gets the best of him. Now find those numbers of your friends in your Smartphone and tell me their names and any extra details you have. Here, you can write them on this piece of paper.” Alexandre got out a scrap of paper and handed the man a pen from his coat pocket.
    Jim was shaking uncontrollably but managed to scrawl down some names.
    “If none of this makes sense, if these names are false or you happen to be playing any kind of game with me, remember, I know where you and your family live. I also have your New York address. I know where you work. I know everything about you, Jim. Give me your cell phone.”
    “Why?”
    “I said we’d leave all weapons behind. I leave my gun, you leave your phone. Get out of the car…slowly.”
    Jim opened the car door and exited carefully. A gust of icy wind blew into the vehicle. It was crisp outside and pitch-black. Alexandre quickly got out, too; he noticed the man’s large shoulders were shaking. “Hand me your phone,” Alexandre said quietly. His breath was making steam in the frosty air.
    Jim handed over his cell. Alexandre’s black gloved hands took it and he proceeded to frisk him all over; just in case the guy had two phones, or even a gun or knife on him. But he was clean.
    Alexandre said, “Now hand me over your car keys.”
    Jim obliged. Alexandre took the Smartphone, then threw it with the gun into the trunk, took off his long coat which he chucked over the back seat, closed the car doors, zapped them locked and pocketed the car keys. “We’re both weapon-free now.” He smiled.
    “You still have my car keys, man!” Jim replied with a sneer.
    “Come and get them. Come on, you’re a big man - throw me one of your best punches and you can have it all. Me, the car keys, your car, your phone – even the gun.”
    Jim eyed him suspiciously and rocked from one heavy foot to the other as if weighing up his options.
    “Come on, you pussy,” taunted Alexandre. “If you’re the big, bad money-maker, Wall St. master of the universe footballer, come on! Show me what you’re made of! Come and get me.”
    Jim launched himself at him, flailing his fist as it caught the air because Alexandre ducked and side-stepped so fast. Jim swung again and Alexandre dodged to the left. A third swing had Jim’s punch meet the edge of his SUV and he shouted out curses then shoved his bashed hand in his