The Storm Before the Calm

Chapter 18

Dominico Vicious Vitale
November 1.

The day of the year I've hated the most for the last few years.

When we were kids, I looked forward to it. It meant cake and gifts, spending time with my family, happy memories.

Now, it just reminds me that I am completely alone in this world.

I clench my teeth, my jaw feeling sore as I stare down into the identical green eyes as my own in a photograph that is about 25 years old. I was 9 when she was born, and even though most young boys would hate the idea of having to share their space, parents, and things with a baby sister, I loved Elizabella with every fiber of my being from the moment she came into this world.

She would've been 21 today.

As tradition, I didn't sleep at all last night. I shared a bottle of scotch with myself and tried to track down the men that brutalized her, like I'd have any more luck than I do any other day of the year. The only thing different this year is that I had a new player on the board, and she was an absolute wild card.

Frankie didn't give much away yesterday, so I still don't know what role she's playing yet. All I know is that I still don't trust her. But after hearing what Frankie did give me, I trust her anger.

I stayed silent after Frankie spoke. I found long ago that silence makes people uncomfortable, whereas I thrive in its presence. It usually causes them to word vomit and give me information they don't even realize I need. I file it all away for a later time.
He sighed, and I knew he was going to continue.
"She won't talk about it, either. We only deduced some of the things they did to her based on her injuries when we found her." As he spoke, I noticed him snap himself out of some trance as he stared emptily to the ground before snapping his eyes back on his cousin in the kitchen.

The scars.

It came to me now that I had thought that conversation over and over all night. My knuckles turned white as my hand gripped the steering wheel. When I had first seen them, I wondered what had happened to her. She wears those scars like a beautiful dress made out of hellfire.

"All I do know for sure is that the Salvatores have their own reasons for wanting to get our hands on the Russo's. But not as much as she does."

My mind still raced with questions that I knew I'd never get the answers to. I'd never know for sure what happened to Aurora, the horrors she was subjected to. Just as I'd never know for sure the exact things that my baby sister endured. But I knew it was more than enough for me to gut Nico Russo, Enzo Russo, Patsy Russo, Michael Oliviero, Emilia Santaniello, and Mateo De Luca. In no particular order.

I needed to know which place Aurora was kept at and if the same horrors she endured, my sister did as well. If they weren't kept in the same place, or had to fight off the same people, then that meant my kill list was about to double.

I wasn't sure what it was, or when it happened exactly.

Whether it be seeing the warmth on her face before I knew her, the demons she tries to hide behind that icy stare, and the trauma she attempts to cover up with an unapologetic, lethal exterior. Whether it be the physical evidence of what she's been through on her skin. Whether it be that I'm grouping her in now with my own sister I sought vengeance for.

But the dislike I've had for her since I first sat at Zio Giovanni's patio table was slowly dissipating. I now felt like I needed to avenge her, also. I needed to help her kill the men who broke her.

But first, I needed to know for sure that she had nothing to do with her husband's sick extracurricular activities, and what happened to my sister. Once I deemed her innocent, I'd help her chase away those demons.

I stopped my truck abruptly, blinking hard once to make sure I wasn't seeing things. As if I conjured her up in my own imagination, I glance out in the the open cemetery field and see a woman standing in front of a gravestone, hands in her jacket pocket to protect them from the November air that's beginning to feel nippy. Her long, espresso waves flowed in the wind down her back. She was so still, and I was afraid if she made a single move, she'd disappear.

But suddenly, I see Aurora pick her head up, like she was putting that mask back on, as her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath before she kissed her hand and placed a gentle touch on the black granite stone, fixing the flowers on top before her long legs clad in jeans and black leather booties began walking the opposite way.

I looked down the way to see a different car than she'd almost hit mine with in her father's driveway the other day. This time, she drove a blacked out Audi RS Q8. Once I made sure she'd gotten in safely, engine started, and she began to drive away, I continued down the road until she was out of sight. Until I got the section that held my baby sister's gravesite.

I parked my truck, and smoothed my shirt out as I got out, tucking my gun in the back of my pants as I took a look around. I was vulnerable out in the open by myself, but even in this world, there were rules you respected. One of them being not to fucking ambush someone in a cemetery visiting their dead sibling you'd already fucking killed.

As I stood over her headstone as I'd just seen Aurora doing, I made my mental promises to her that I'd soon find the monsters responsible for her death, so she could rest peacefully.

Once I'd finally realized what I was looking at, however, I realized that I'd overlooked a small detail. There were flowers resting on the grass in front of her stone. But not just any bouquet of flowers. Pink peonies. Her favorite flowers.

Nobody but me ever visited her grave, unless Zio Dante had come this year...but how would he know that peonies were her favorite flower? Again. I don't believe in coincidences.

My mind racing once again, I mimicking Aurora's motions subconsciously, raising my head, taking a deep breath and walking back to my truck. Except now, instead of driving back to Zio Giovanni's, I stopped short at the gravesite that Aurora was standing in front of a few minutes ago.

Pure curiosity. I know, I know. It killed the cat. But cats have 9 lives, and I'm not a fucking cat.

I had estimated about where I'd seen her standing, getting back out of my truck. Not that I'd know what name to look for, or even know who she was visiting, but I stopped in front of the black granite stone that looked similar to the one I saw her standing in front of and realized two things right there.

1. There were peonies resting on this head stone, as well.
2. I'd found out what happened to the baby I saw her pregnant with in the photos of a warm, happy Aurora.