The Storm Before the Calm

Chapter 15

Aurora Salvatore
As soon as I parked my Aston Martin, I fixed my gun in the back of my waistband as I took a look around my surroundings, since I still felt like I was being followed. I grabbed my remaining stack of copies, ready to give them over to Pablo when I heard a noise coming from behind me, ahead of my car.

My head whipped that way, but it was just one of Pablo's guys approaching me, putting his hands up in surrender to show me he meant no harm.

"Lo siento, senora. I didn't meant to startle you. Pablo asked me to escort you." He said with a thick accent, and I scoffed.

"I'm sure if anyone attacks me in the next 50 feet, I'll be more deadly than you." I teased, knuckle bumping his outwardly held fist and following him back inside as he chuckled at me also.

"Oh, I know, senora." He said, shaking his head.

"Don't call me that. I'm not an old lady." I corrected him quickly, since I hated being called a wife's title. I wasn't a wife. I was legally still married to a ghost, but that didn't make me a wife. I was never a wife to begin with. Just a prisoner.

"Yes ma'am." He nodded his chin again as he climbed the stairs, and down the long dark hallway, we rounded a corner. There I saw another 2 guys and Pablo standing in front of a broken giant window, overlooking the water.

"I have these files on everyone from the club last night. Copies for you." I said, handing the file to Pablo. He opened it up, and his face turned to stone as I had put the most important one right on top.

"De Luca." He said with a wicked grin on his face. His family has had a feud with the De Luca's for decades. "So that's where Nico Russo has been hiding." He spoke my exact thoughts out loud, and I knew I liked him. We thought the exact same. And we both hated my husband.

"Boy does this make my present to you that much sweeter." He looked up at me, nodding his head behind him, motioning for me to come over to him. Again, my heels were the only sound echoing in the huge, empty room, as I walked over to Pablo who was looking out the broken window. When I got to where he stood, I followed his gaze, seeing what he was showing me.

"All for you, hermanita." He said softly, referring to me as his little sister. Ever since he found out what I had been put through when he had helped my family find me, we'd gotten really close.

Down on the docks sat the blonde bimbo from the club, tied to a chair, with a bag over her head as it slugged forward, like she was asleep.

"Is she dead?" I asked.

"Not yet." Pablo answered, looking over at me for direction on what I wanted done with her. He knew who she was, I was betting.

Emilia. She was once a victim in the skin house I found myself trapped in. Except, she was a favorite. She did anything my husband asked of her with a smile on her face like a lovesick puppy dog, including harm us, hold girls down, do nothing but assist the abuse that happened. I'll never forget her vile face, the words she said, or the things she did.

There were a few girls who'd remembered their names through all the trauma that I'd trauma bonded with at that house. I wouldn't say we got close, because we didn't. We were stuck in the same situation, trying to keep each other as sane as possible. We were a fucked up support system for each other. We had each other's backs.

One of the girls who was Ariana's age reminded me of my baby sister so much, I felt extra protective over her. I still heard her screams and pleas in my dreams, in my every waking moment. Her soft light brown hair, her bright green eyes that still looked so kind even though she was so brutalized. We promised each other we'd make it out. I guess I didn't hold up my end of that promise.

"Put her in my trunk." I said out loud to the guys with us.

"You got it." The one who walked up with me said, speaking Spanish to the other guys, as they all followed him downstairs and out to get her.

"How'd you get her?" I asked Pablo as we began a slow walk downstairs together, giving us time to speak without their ears around.

"She was all over one of my guys at the club last night. It was like giving candy to a baby. Next thing she knew, she was waking up tied to this dock. Now, she's all yours." He said, and again the hairs on my arms stood to attention. We were being watched.

"Quien mas esta aqui?" I switched to Spanish, asking who else was here that I hadn't already seen, in case it was more of Pablo's men establishing a perimeter.

"Solo nosotros. Por que?" He asked, looking around now, probably knowing I'd switched to his native tongue because I didn't trust whoever it was I sensed near us.

Call it my survivor's instinct, or call it my mafia princess instinct, but at the exact moment we reached the middle landing of the flight of stairs, I heard the subtle footstep behind us, as I reached for my gun in the blink of an eye, turning around, firing a single bullet into the guy's head who was behind Pablo, about to blitz him over the head with a concrete brick.

Pablo flinched at the gun shot, but quickly turned around to see what had happened, just as someone had grabbed my arms from behind me.

In my fight or flight instinct, I immediately put my heeled foot up on the open doorway, and shoved backwards as hard as I could.

Except instead of whoever had me in their grip's back hitting another wall, we went flying backwards down the stairs together.

I heard his huffing and grunting as we rolled down the stairs to the floor below. My breath was knocked out of me for a moment as my back hit the concrete floor. But I didn't have time to take it easy from tumbling down a flight of stairs as the assailant tried to lunge for me again.

I kicked my foot up, kicking him right in the nose as hard as I could, the ball of my feet making contact with his nose as my hard heel slit open his jaw. He yelled, blood immediately pouring out of his broken nose, and he lunged for me again, but my fighting skills kicked in, and I kicked out one more time, this time making contact with his throat. And as he fell to the ground on to his knees, I quickly stood up, mounting his back, grabbing a head full of his hair.

Before he could fight back or register where I was, I reached for the knife in my boot, running it deeply along his throat as his body went limp below me.

Blood pooled all around me, under his dead body as I huffed in breaths now, trying to catch my breath and will the adrenaline away.

Pablo's men came running back in, obviously hearing the commotion, as the other body from the landing came barreling down the flight to our feet, Pablo kicking him down before descending the stairs himself.

"What the fuck happened?" His man who had greeted me outside asked.

"Search him." I ignored the obvious question, nodding over at the other body as my hands searched the dead one I was sitting on. No wallet, no keys, just a knife, a gun, an extra magazine, and...a phone. Bingo.

"Just a phone." Pablo said, lifting it from the other body. I held my hand out as I used the dead guys thumb to unlock his phone. The last phone call was incoming about an hour ago from a contact named 'Boss'. Whoever this 'boss' was obviously sent these men to attempt to...what? Kill us? Kidnap us? Attack us?

I'd already fallen victim to these tactics, and I vowed to never again be a victim. Which is why I was prepared this time. Call it PTSD, or whatever you want, but I'll always be ready to defend myself.

I locked the phone, putting both in my pockets as I stood up, brushing dirt off my hands.
"Put them in my trunk also, please." I asked of Pablo's men as I stared into Pablo's eyes. We needed to know who sent these men for us, and why.