The Storm Before the Calm

Chapter 2

Dominico Vicious Vitale

Fuck Zio Dante and especially fuck Zio Giovanni for making me have to bring me ass all the way back home from Italy. And fuck my brothers for having gone to Italy, and left me to go to the States alone. The term 'brothers' I use lightly, since they aren't my brothers my blood, just like Dante isn't really my father. Zio Dante and Zio Giovanni had a third best friend once upon a time. My father.

He was assassinated when I was just a kid all thanks to this mafia life we are all a part of, and Zio Dante took my sister and I in as a courtesy to my father, since our mother died giving birth to my sister. Almost 30 years later, here we are.

I'd moved to Italy the day I turned 18 and inherited my part of the familia business, and I'd only periodically come back home over the last 15 years. I hadn't been back since the incident with Elizabella 2 years ago, and I was not looking forward to my time back home for God knows how long this time.

But, now I was back home for business and Zio Dante was forcing me to attend some fucking familia dinner they had at Zio Giovanni's every Friday. Lucky me. I parked my five million dollar Bentley in the Salvatore driveway that was lined with varying brands of luxury vehicles, both classic and brand new. I stepped out, rebuttoning the jacket on my custom Tom Ford suit, looking up at the fucking mansion in front of me that matched the size of Giovanni Salvatore's ego.

I heard my $4,000 shoes on the bricked driveway and the front steps as I got closer to the front door. I didn't even have to knock, as the huge front door opened as I took the last stair, and there stood Sra. Salvatore, who had been like an aunt to me my entire life. She looked miniature when I looked down at her from my 6'4" height, but her warm smile reminded me that she wasn't a puny person I could push around like I did everyone else.

"Dominico Vitale." Her thick accent warmed my cold blood, and she reached forward, grabbing my forearm, pulling me down so she could kiss both my cheeks like she'd always done. "Signora Salvatore." I greeted her back as warmly as I could muster from my dead heart, standing back to my full height, as she squeezed both of my arms.

"Please, come in. The boys are all in Gio's downstairs office." She said, ushering me into her house, shutting the huge door behind us, as I looked around the giant foyer that looked like it belonged in an old Italian castle, lined with all the marble America could probably get its hands on.

Suddenly, someone exited from around a corner, on his phone, his head down. He brought it up upon Signora Salvatore's voice booming against the said marble. "Romeo! Escort Signor Vitale to mio marito, per favore." She said with the same even balance of warmth and 'take no shit' attitude she'd always exerted.

This Romeo kid looked like I wanted to kick his teeth in so hard, he swallowed each individual one. The way he looked from Signora Salvatore to me like he had a million better things to do than listen to her made my glare harden and my jaw clench. Slime.

"Si, Signora." Was all he said before nodding to me and heading down a hallway. I took the rude hint to follow him, and did so, following him down the hall to Zio Giovanni's office. Romeo didn't even knock before entering the office, and I found myself wondering where the fuck Zio picked this fucker up from, because he lacked the manners and respect that the Familia demanded of its soldiers. Unless they had just gotten that soft since I'd been gone.

"Ah! My favorite nephew!" Zio Giovanni stood to greet me, pushing little Romeo out of his way. I would've smirked if I cared at all about a kid who was eye to eye with my fucking belly button and I knew for a fact had no idea how to use that gun on his hip or the baby dick in his fucking pants.

"Viscous! Long time, no see." Antonio greeted me next, slapping me on the back, lifting his glass of whiskey up in salute, using my old nickname I'd had my entire life in the mafia world and my familia. Antonio and I were the same age, and besides him and Angelina, who was 3 years older than us, I'd never met Zio Giovanni's other two daughters before I began working in the familia and then moved away to take business more seriously.