Page 120 of All The Pretty Little Lies

His words hit me like a physical blow, but I refuse to let him see how they affect me. I stand tall, chin raised defiantly.

"You're wrong," Oscar's voice cuts through the tension, calm and steady. He steps forward, his presence a comforting warmth at my side. "She has a family."

Mario's eyes dart between us, confusion evident on his face before realization dawns. His lips curl into a sneer as he takes in the protective stance of the men around me, the way Oscar's hand rests possessively on the small of my back.

"I see," he spits, disgust dripping from every word. "So, this is what it's come to, eh? For someone who was so against marrying into the Petrov family, you’re still fucking one, aren’t you? Tellme, niece, did you spread your legs for all of them, or just the pretty ones?"

The room seems to vibrate with tension, the air crackling with barely contained rage. I can feel the fury radiating off the men behind me, but it's nothing compared to the inferno blazing inside my chest.

"You're no better than a common whore. Selling herself to whatever fool has enough cash to pay for her time," he snarls.

The words have barely left his mouth when a blur of motion catches my eye. Zaire surges forward, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. Before anyone can react, his fist connects with Mario's jaw with a sickening crack.

Mario falls back in his chair, blood trickling from his split lip. Zaire doesn't give him a chance to recover, grabbing him by the lapels of his expensive suit and slamming him against his desk. A stack of papers tumble to the floor as Mario's head connects with the solid wood.

"You don't get to talk about her like that," Zaire growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't even get to say her name, you piece of shit."

I watch, frozen in place, as Zaire's hands tighten around Mario's throat. My uncle's eyes bulge, his face contorted in pain.

"Zaire, stop," I order. The same tone that Zaire uses on me when the weight of our world comes crashing down around me and I lose control. The room falls silent, save for Mario's labored breathing. Zaire's grip loosens, but he doesn't step away. His eyes are dark with rage. I can see the muscles in his jaw working as he fights to control himself.

"Is that why you came?" Mario rasps. “To have one of your paramours kill me for you?"

His words hang in the air, heavy and accusatory. I feel a surge of emotions, anger, disgust, but also a flicker of something else. Pity, perhaps? For a moment, I see my uncle not as the monsterhe's become, but as the man I once knew. The uncle who used to sneak me extra desserts at family dinners, who taught me how to play chess on lazy Sunday afternoons.

But that man is gone now, replaced by this bitter, power-hungry shell.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of old books and polished wood. Dust motes dance in the golden light, swirling in intricate patterns as if choreographed by an unseen hand. I move closer. I push the memories aside, steeling myself against the tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm me. This man before me may wear my uncle's face, but he is no longer the person I once loved more than my own father.

Leaning down, I bring my face level with his. Our eyes lock, and I see a flicker of fear in the depths of his gaze. Good. Let him be afraid. Let him feel a fraction of the terror I've lived with for the past two years.

"I've learned something about myself since you kidnapped, violated, and sold me.” The words hang in the air between us, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths.

Mario's eyes narrow, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension clouding his features. "And what's that, my dear niece?" he asks, his voice hoarse from Zaire's assault.

I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his cologne, the same brand he's worn for as long as I can remember. It's a scent that once brought comfort, but now only serves to fuel my resolve.

"I've learned that blood means absolutely nothing," I say, each word precise and cutting. "Blood doesn't determine your family. A family, a real one, doesn't need to share a single drop of it."

As I speak, I feel a shift in the air around me. The men who came with me, Oscar, Zaire, Talon, and Alex, seem to draw closer, their presence a tangible force at my back. I drawstrength from them, from the bonds we've forged through trials and tribulations.

"Family," I continue, my voice growing stronger with each word, "is not about shared DNA or family trees. It's about loyalty, trust, and unconditional love. It's about standing by someone's side when the whole world has turned its back on them."

I straighten up, looking down at Mario. The afternoon light streaming through the windows catches the tears welling in my eyes, turning them into liquid gold. But these aren't tears of sadness or fear. They're tears of revelation, of a truth so profound it shakes me to my very core.

"You taught me that lesson, Uncle," I say, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. "When you betrayed me, when you sold me like chattel, you showed me exactly what family isn't. And in doing so, you set me free to find my own family. One that will soon help me rule from this very seat.”

“You’ll have to kill me first before you’ll put your ass in this seat.”

“That can be arranged,” I threaten him.

Mario's eyes flicker with a dangerous glint, his lips curling into a devious smile that sends a chill down my spine. He leans back in his chair, a newfound confidence radiating from him despite the bruises forming on his throat.

"Family, family, family," he mocks, his voice a low growl. "You speak so passionately about it, my dear niece. And yet, in all your righteous anger, in all your talk of betrayal and loyalty, you seem to have forgotten someone rather important."

My heart skips a beat, a cold dread seeping into my bones. I struggle to maintain my composure, but I can feel my mask slipping. Mario's smile widens, like a predator sensing weakness in its prey.

"What are you talking about?" I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

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