Page 119 of All The Pretty Little Lies

“I thought you said you were coming alone, Petrov,” my uncle's gruff voice snarls.

I step out from behind the protective wall of my men and show myself. “Well, when you’ve been held captive for the last two years, you tend to feel safer in numbers, Uncle Mario,” I reply.

He looks up from the papers spread before him, his pen frozen mid-stroke. His eyes widen in shock, mouth falling open slightly as he takes in the sight of me standing before him. For a moment, the carefully crafted mask of the ruthless crime boss slips, revealing a flicker of genuine surprise and fear?

"Vesper," he breathes, my name falling from his lips like a prayer—or a curse. He quickly composes himself, straightening in the high-backed leather chair that once belonged to my father. "What an unexpected surprise."

I feel a surge of satisfaction at having caught him off guard. It's a rare thing to see Mario Rossi rattled, and I savor the moment, letting the silence stretch between us.

"Uncle," I reply, my voice cool and controlled. I take a step forward, feeling the solid presence of my men behind me. "You look surprised to see me. I wonder why that could be the case.”

Mario's lips tighten into a thin line as he rises from his chair, his hands splaying across the polished surface of the desk. "Vesper, my dear, we thought…"

"No," I cut him off, my voice sharp as a blade. “Don’t pretend that you haven’t known where I’ve been the last two years.”

I take another step forward, my eyes never leaving his face. The room seems to shrink around us, the tension palpable in the air. I can feel the steady presence of Oscar, Zaire, Talon, and Alex behind me, their silent support giving me strength.

"It’s funny. The last time I stood in this room," I begin, my voice low and steady, "I was arguing with my father. I stood right here," I continue, moving to stand in the exact spot where I'd faced my father two years ago. "Right here, where I told him I wouldn't marry Dmitri Petrov. That I wouldn't be a pawn in his power games."

I run my fingers along the edge of the desk, feeling the smooth wood beneath my skin. How many times had I stood on the other side of this desk as a child, barely able to see over its imposing surface?

"He told me I had no choice," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "That it was my duty to the family. And now look at where we are."

I turn back to face Mario, noting the beads of sweat forming on his brow. "My father is dead, and you've taken his place. And isn't it ironic, Uncle, that the very man my father wanted me to marry is now married to your daughter? But, she’s not really your daughter, is she?"

Mario flinches at my words, his composure cracking further. I press on, relishing the way he squirms under my gaze.

“You forget your place, niece.”

His words ignite a fire within me, rage coursing through my veins like molten lava. I laugh, a harsh, bitter sound that echoes off the wood-paneled walls.

"My place?" I spit the words out, venom dripping from every syllable. "You dare speak to me about my place?"

I stalk around the desk, my movements fluid and predatory. Mario flinches, I can smell the fear radiating off him in waves, mingling with the scent of his expensive cologne.

"For two years," I continue, my voice low and dangerous, "you let Natasha take everything from me. My home, my family, my dignity. You ordered every violation done to me."

Mario's eyes widen, a flicker of guilt crossing his features before he masks it with indignation. "Vesper, you don't understand-"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," I cut him off, slamming my hands down on the desk. The sharp crack echoes through the room, making him flinch. "You allowed me to be sold like livestock once I'd served my purpose. Tell me, Uncle, how much did my suffering line your pockets?"

He shakes his head vehemently, sweat beading on his upper lip. "No, no, you've got it all wrong. I never-"

"Don't you dare lie to me!" I roar, my composure finally shattering. "I know what you did. Every. Single. Detail."

I lean in close, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, so similar to my father's and yet so different. "I know about your plan for your daughter to take my place as Dmitri’s bride. Honestly, that part doesn’t bother me. Being married to a monster isn’t really where I saw my future heading. For that, I am grateful. But, you had to take it a step further to protect your dirty little secret. You took from me. You created a life from my own body and gave it to your daughter. The daughter who doesn’t have a single drop of Rossi blood in her.”

Mario's face drains of color, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. I press on, relentless in my assault.

"You stole that innocence from me. Look what you made, Uncle Mario.”

I step back from the desk, my anger giving way to a cold, calculated calm. With deliberate grace, I begin to twirl, my dress flaring out around me like the petals of a deadly flower. The movement is slow, controlled, reminiscent of a ballerina in a music box—beautiful, yet mechanical and slightly unnerving.

"What do you want, Vesper?" Mario asks, his voice strained as he watches me spin. His eyes dart nervously between me and the men standing guard at the door. "Money?”

“You cannot buy what you’ve already sold, Uncle. You see," I continue, my voice steady despite my constant motion, "everything in this room, everything in this house—it all belongs to me. You're just a temporary caretaker, a placeholder."

"Oh, my dear niece," he chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes. "You truly believe you can just waltz in here and take it all back? You're a woman, Vesper. A woman without a family to back her outside of myself and your cousin, and I’ll never do that.”

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