Page 9 of All The Pretty Little Lies

Suddenly, heavy footsteps approach us, and the guard quickly straightens up, fear evident in his eyes. A commanding voice orders him to take my brother outside. My heart drops as I look up and see my father standing before me with a cold, angry expression on his face.

"Get moving to the car, Vesper," he repeats sternly, disappointment laced in his voice.

As my father grabs me harshly by the arm, I resist the urge to cry. This isn't the first time I've seen Luca hurt, and it won't be the last. We walk out of the hallway, my blood-stained tights catching the attention of a few passersby who quickly look away as soon as they make eye contact with my father. In the car, the tension is unbearable. My father doesn't say a word as he rides next to me. Luca lies motionless in the backseat of my father’s limo. His guard sits quietly next to Father’s driver in the front.

As we pull into our driveway, I can feel my heart breaking at the sight of Luca's battered body. My father shoves me out of the car before we’re even stopped by the front door.

"Go clean yourself up. Come to my office when you’re done,” he orders coldly as he slams the door behind me.

VESPER

I ascend the grand staircase,my heels clicking against the polished marble, echoing through the large foyer of the Rossi mansion. The opulent surroundings, with their gilded frames and crystal chandeliers, feel suffocating as I make my way to my room, my mind racing with the events of the evening.

Once inside my sanctuary, I shed my school uniform, peeling the blood-soaked tights from my body and gather them up in my hands, tossing them in my bathroom trash bin. I move to my expansive walk-in closet, my fingers trailing over the array of designer labels before selecting a crisp white blouseand tailored black trousers. After cleaning the now dried blood from my legs, I dress in new clothes, and my eyes catch my reflection in the full-length mirror. The woman staring back at me looks composed, but I can see the storm brewing behind my own emerald gaze. My father’s wrath is not something I’ve experienced directly, and to be honest, I have no idea what to expect now that it seems to be directed at me. With a deep breath, I steel myself and make my way back downstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. The dark mahogany door of my father's study looms before me, and I knock with a steady hand that belies my inner turmoil.

"Enter," comes the gruff response from within.

I step into the room, the scent of leather and cigars enveloping me. My father sits behind his imposing desk, his weathered face set in hard lines.

"Vesper," he begins, his voice low and controlled, "explain to me why your brother was fighting with Zaire Petrov."

I meet his gaze unflinchingly. "It was a misunderstanding, Father. You know how hot-headed Luca can be sometimes."

Father's eyes narrow. "A misunderstanding? That's all you have to offer?"

I shrug elegantly, careful to keep my expression neutral. "Boys will be boys, as they say. I'm sure it was nothing of consequence." The lie tastes like acid as it spills so easily from my lips. If my father found out the real reason behind Luca’s clash with Zaire, I shudder to think of the consequences.

My father's fist comes down hard on the desk, causing the crystal decanter to rattle. "Nothing of consequence? Do you have any idea how important this alliance is to our family?"

I remain silent as my father continues, his voice rising with each word. "Your brother was reckless, provoking Zaire into a fight. Do you understand the delicate nature of our negotiations with the Petrovs? One wrong move and years of careful planningcould crumble! Until you’re married to Dmitri, it’s imperative that we do not provoke them to change their mind about the alliance.” I watch as he rises from his chair, pacing the length of the study. The firelight casts long shadows across the room, making my father's imposing figure seem even more menacing. “Your idiot brother will be punished for his actions," Father declares, his tone brooking no argument. "He needs to learn that his impulsiveness has consequences. And you, Vesper," he turns to face me, his eyes boring into mine, "I expect better from you. Maybe allowing your mother to raise you instead of sending you off to an all-girls boarding school was a mistake after all. I just hope that this mistake will be the only one you make until you’re no longer my problem."

I feel a chill run down my spine, knowing that I’m the reason this happened. I’m the reason he felt the need to fight, to protect and defend me. My heart sinks at my father's words, the weight of my guilt pressing down on me like a lead blanket. I struggle to maintain my composure, but I can feel my carefully constructed facade beginning to crack.

"Father," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, "may I see Luca? Perhaps I could speak with him, make him understand the gravity of his actions."

My father's laugh is cold and humorless, sending a shiver down my spine. "See him? Oh no, my dear. Your brother isn't here to coddle or console. He can lick his wounds under someone else's roof until I decide what to do with him."

The room spins around me, the furnishings blurring into a mixture of guilt and fear. I grip the edge of my father's desk, steadying myself as I process his words. Luca, my fierce protector, my confidant, is gone. And it's all because of me.

I can still see the determination in Luca's eyes earlier today, the way his jaw clenched when Zaire made that crude comment about me. I should have stopped him then, should have pulledhim away before things escalated. But a part of me, a selfish, prideful part, had relished seeing Zaire put in his place.

Now, as I stand before my father, I realize the full cost of that moment of satisfaction. Luca is suffering, cast out and alone, while I remain in the comfort of our family home. The injustice of it all threatens to overwhelm me.

"Where is he?" I ask, my voice stronger now, fueled by desperation. "Please, Father, at least tell me he's safe."

My father's eyes narrow, assessing me with a coldness that makes me want to shrink away. "Your brother is where he needs to be, learning a valuable lesson about loyalty and obedience. You would do well to learn from his mistakes, Vesper."

I nod, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. The ornate clock on the mantel ticks away the seconds, each one feeling like an eternity as I stand there, trapped between my duty to my family and the love for my brother.

"Father, please," I implore, my voice barely above a whisper. "I need to see him, to make sure he's alright. Luca is?—"

"Enough!" Father's voice cracks like a whip, silencing me instantly. His eyes, dark and flinty, bore into mine with an intensity that makes me want to look away. But I force myself to meet his gaze, summoning every ounce of strength I possess.

The setting sun paints the sky in hues of crimson and gold, casting long shadows across the manicured lawn. For a moment, the beauty of the scene stands in stark contrast to the tension that crackles in the air between us.

"You disappoint me, Vesper," he says, his voice low and measured. "I expected better from you. How could you allow this to happen? Your brother may be impulsive, but you're supposed to be the levelheaded one. The one who understands what's at stake."

I feel each word like a physical blow, my chest tightening with a mixture of shame and indignation. "I didn't know he was going to?—.”

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