Page 53 of Princess's Revenge

He gently, but firmly takes my hand off of him and says, “How did I lie to you?”

“You said you were going to pick a target. YOU SET ME UP!”

“I showed you the target you want and we gave you a means to get this done the right way.”

“The right way?” Vincenzo shakes his head at Anthony. “The right way is gone. The right way wasmyway—To negotiate. Tokeep the peace! To keep this quiet!Six months…down the drain.Now, the four of you have set us on a course for war. No matter what happens…war is coming.”

“Then let it come!” I point at Vincenzo. “The only thing you’re good at is sitting on your hands and letting things happen around you. If you were any good at leading this family, your sons wouldn’t be riding roughshod over you and yourwell laid plans!”

“How dare you speak to me in that manner,” he thumps the desk with the flat of his hand, “I am Don Vincenzo Bertinelli and I am the boss of this family!”

“The only thing you’ve done is keep my seat warm for me! You and your God damn plans! YOU! Letting that fucking murderer walk free for sixteen years! YOU! Wanting to keep thepeaceinstead of your dignity as a man! YOU!”

The Don bellows, “ENOUGH!”

Francis pulls me to the side and gets in front…like he’s protecting me.

The Don comes around his desk, “You arrogant, foolish, impetuous child! You know nothing of this world! You are stumbling through a minefield with your eyes closed, blinded by your hate! What I do, I do for the greater good!”

“And pray tell,” I push Francis away, “what inyour opinionis the greater good?”

“I protect the old ways,” he thumps his chest.

“The old ways are gone, dad,” says Anthony. “Those ways ended when you didn’t stand up for Andrea’s father. An unsanctioned hithasto be met with force, if for no other reason than principle.”

The look on the Don’s face changes…and when it does…something clicks in my head. It’s what’s been bothering me all along…the phrase that I’ve heard twice today—First from Anthony and then from Christopher.

“Do what you gotta do…” I look from Anthony to Christopher and finally, I stare at Don Vincenzo, “it was you, wasn’t it? You didn’t retaliate because youallowedde Soto to kill my family.”

“How dare you!” The Don points at me, “I loved your father like a brother!”

Francis grabs me, “That’s insane! My father wouldneverdo something like that. You don’t know what you’re talking about Andrea!”

I push him back, “Just give me a minute, Francis.” I step to the middle of the room so everyone has a good view of me, then ask, “Who was in the room when the paramedic came to tell you about me?”

“I was,” says Anthony, “he approached me and I brought him to my father, the three of us sat down and spoke, then I told my brothers. What are you getting at, Andrea?”

“You probably saved my life, Anthony.” I look at the Don.

He stares back, his eyes narrowed with malice, then goes to pour himself a drink.

“What do you want to bet that if you hadn’t heard the story alongside your father, the paramedic and I would have been killed six months ago?”

“Now you’re just talking out your ass,” Christopher butts in angrily. “Why would my father take all that time to watch you, get to know you, follow your fiancé? What was the point of all that?”

“You tell me,” I send a vicious smile towards the Don. “Any rational person would have just come to me and told me who I was on day one. My guess is—You father was buying time.He was hoping the longer he drew things out, the three of you would eventually get tired and let it go.”

I take another look at the Don, he still doesn’t offer an explanation.

“Watching me, getting the pictures…all that was probably you guys coming up with those ideas, right? You guys kept coming up with reasons to make contact and every time he said—No—he granted a concession.”

Christopher and Anthony share a knowing look.

“You guys are the reason I’m alive, not the great and powerful Don Vincenzo Bertinelli. He was hoping I’d go away quietly and he wouldn’t have to tell you the truth. Isn’t that right?” I stare at the Don.

Francis gets in my way again, looking panicked, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Andrea. What fucking truth?”

I push him away from me, “Isn’t it fucking obvious, Francis?”

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