We paused to wave goodbye. I knew Vincenzo would want to follow up with him, but the way he held my waist said he had other interests took priority.
I was here for that. When the retreating footsteps faded, I resumed the playful conversation.
“No, really,” I insisted. “I drove the bike.”
“Mandy, you can barely drive a car, let alone handle a crotch rocket.”
“I’ve been practicing, and Bill helped—”
“You just can’t stay locked up,” a voice barked in hatred.
I rounded on my dad, who stepped out of a side room. He didn’t seem powerful. Maybe it was the light, but I swore more of his hair was grey, frizzing at the edges.
Vincenzo pulled me softly to the side, placing his body at an angle to become a barrier if the need arose. I was glad he didn’t shelter me like some helpless creature. He was there if I needed him.
“Hi, Dad,” I said with a resigned breath. “Guess the cards are on the table, aren’t they?”
“I should have killed you instead of sending you to prison,” Dad snarled.
My spine snapped straight. Did Dad really just admit to that? It was better than I could have hoped! I needed to pretend to be ignorant, play the part of the dumb blonde daughter who didn’t know he was the mastermind behind every broken chord in our song.
“What the fuck did you just say to him?” I demanded.
Back here, away from the press, it was mostly private. Yet just in case, Dad spoke low enough that there was no threat of witnesses. What he didn’t know was that I’d anticipated this.
“You heard me,” Dad menaced.
I held up a finger. This needed to be crystal clear. “You said you didn’t prosecute him. You looked me in the eye. You said—”
“Of course, I did that,” Dad spewed.
“I read the case file; the charges seemed paper thin.”Come on, Dad.
He dug the hole deeper. “I did what I had to do to put him away. His kind don’t deserve to walk the streets.”
“You committed perjury?” I tried to sound shocked. It seemed to work.
“It’s not perjury if I know it’s true.”
“You’re supposed to prove it,” I insisted.
“Eight years,” Vincenzo muttered.
I shot him a look, pleading with him to stay calm.It’s almost over.
“Why, Dad? I loved him.” I lifted my hands and dropped them helplessly to my side.
His face grew uglier as he sneered. “I didn’t want you stuck in the ghetto! I had big plans for you, Amanda, and you were a child.”
“Like selling me to a war criminal?” I baited.
“That was circumstantial.” He crossed his arms. “Maksim is waiting for you in Karsovia.”
Vincenzo snarled, but I pressed my fingers into his arm.
“What’s he waiting for?” My foot tapped against the smooth, marble floor. I stopped it the moment I realized it might cause an echo.
“Amanda, don’t play games.” Dad’s eyes were wild. “You know what’s at stake. He’ll hurt all of us if you don’t marry him.”
