Unforgiven __ °Avatrice AU°

Chapter 57:

-I owed him., spoke Vincent finally.

-What ?, questioned Beatrice with a frown.

-I owed him. Duretti., replied Vincent once again.

-What does that even mean, Vincent?, asked Beatrice.

-He payed for my nieces' cancer treatment. All of it. In return, I just had to give him an information. He payed the treatment in return of me just telling him when your father would be back and where he would do a public appearance first. I didn't tell him about him confronting the public when your secret came out because I didnt want you to get hurt., explained the man.

-So you sold my dad out? Instead of asking him for help?, scoffed Beatrice, getting up and grabbing a knife.

-I did! I asked him for help! I begged him to just add a little amount of money to my salary. But he refused. He just shut me down and told me to never ask that again or he'd fire me., continued Vincent, eyeing the knife in her hand.

-You're lying. My father would have never said no to helping paying your niece's cancer treatment., replied the brunette coldly as she tightened the grip around the knife.

-Your father is not the noble man you think he is. Or was, I suppose., argued the man desperately.

-Stop lying!, yelled Beatrice as she moved the blade to his throat.

-I'm- I'm not lying, Miss Beatrice., tried Vincent, his eyes locked in with Beatrice's now,

The brunette glared at him, jaw clenched, staring at him for a few second before pressing the blade against his throat,

-Prove it., threatened Beatrice.

-I'm not sure- how., replied Vincent.

-Miss, if it happened in the house, we can check the cameras., suggested Dora.

-It was in his office upstairs. When he arrived home., informed Vincent.

Beatrice looked at Dora.

-Go and retrieve the footage, if there is any. Bring it downstairs., ordered the brunette as she held the knife still against Vincent's throat.

-Yes, Miss., nodded Dora as she walked out of the room, her footsteps loud as she walked down the hallway.

Beatrice focused back on Vincent, looking at him with a furious expression. Vincent was just sitting there, avoiding her gaze.

Beatrice pulled the knife away and sat back down on the chair, knife still in her hand.

-Why didn't you come to me?, asked Beatrice plainly.

-I couldn't. He forbid me to do so., explained Vincent with a sigh as he looked down, his body relaxing the second the cold blade left his skin.

-Why would he...why would he not help you?, questioned the brunette as she watching him, awaiting for an explaination or answer to her many questions.

-He was in debt., stated Vincent.

-What?, frowned Beatrice.

-The only reason Duretti isn't in jail, is your father., explained Vincent.

-What do you mean?, asked the brunette as her confusion kept growing.

-Your father was in debt to Duretti. He had gambled with him on multiple occasions. He lost every single time. Your father was therefore in debt. But he didnt have the money. So instead of paying him the enormous amount of money, he paid the cops to leave Duretti alone., elaborated Vincent as he noticed her confused expression.

-Gambling? My father would never., replied Beatrice with a frown.

-He would because he did. Every time he said that he was in a meeting in the evening, he was at Duretti's business place, trying to win his money back but instead his debt kept growing every single time., explained the man as he tried to convince the princess.

-Gamble in what way?, questioned the brunette.

-He would play card games. Poker, Blackjack and whatever other gambling games there are. Any games that could get him his money back., informed the man.

-How did he even...how did it start?, sighed Beatrice, not liking to be learning all these things from her father.

She wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. She would have to wait for the footage to see.

-He and Duretti used to be friends. Way back then. They went to high school together., admitted Vincent as he could tell that Beatrice was still doubting him.

-What? How? My father was younger than Duretti., stated Beatrice, thinking she caught him lying.

-Duretti was the janitor. Not a student. He was in his early twenties when he was a janitor. The king was around 18., explained Vincent as he sighed.

-Does mother know?, asked Beatrice with a sigh.

-About the gambling and money? Yes. However, she doesn't know of the amount of money nor their businesses together., replied the man.

Beatrice clenched her jaw, shaking her head. She didn't know what else to ask as she was trying to process the information he was already getting. She thought she knew her father. She was sure that he was a good man. But all these secrets being revealed, they're showing her how wrong she was.

Then the door opened. Dora walked in with a laptop in her hand. She walked up to Beatrice, holding the laptop open in front of her. She turned the volume up and played the video she had recovered from the footage.

Beatrice watched as she could see her father sitting behind his desk and Vincent in front of his desk.

-You wanted to talk to me, Vincent?, started the father.

-Yes, your majesty. I was wondering if I could plead for a little favor., replied Vincent.

-What is this favor?, asked the king.

-Could I perhaps get a little raise this month?, wondered Vincent as he looked down.

-You want more money? Why?, questioned the king.

-My niece is sick, your majesty. She was recently diagnosed with cancer and her treatment is too expensive for my sister to pay for it., explained Vincent.

-I see. I apologize but I cannot give you a raise., replied the king with no emotion whatsoever.

-Your majesty, I beg of you-, tried Vincent but he got interrupted.

-You are well aware of my debt to Duretti. I cannot waste money on minor things., shrugged the king.

-Minor things? My 11 year old niece being sick is a minor thing? Weren't you the one saying that we are like family?, asked Vincent with a frown.

-Don't you dare use my words against me, Vincent. The answer is no. If you ask again, I will fire you. Do you understand?, replied the king as he got up from his chair.

They both went quiet for a moment.

-Yes, your majesty. I understand., nodded Vincent.

-And don't even think about going to my wife or my daughter for help. Their money is my money. Got it?, ordered the king.

-Yes, your majesty., nodded Vincent again.

-Good. Now get out. I want to left alone. I need to take care of a delivery., said the king as he sat down again.

Vincent nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind himself.

Dora paused the video and looked at Beatrice. The brunette had her jaw clenched, blinking a few tears away. Not tears out of sadness, no. She was furious. She couldn't believe what she had just watched. She wished she hadn't seen all of that. That she still had the same image of her father.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////A/N: so...that just happened