The Storm Before the Calm

Chapter 19

Aurora Salvatore
"Aura!" I visibly flinched at the too high octave my sister's voice reached. I turned my head slowly as she came running out of her closet. And by closet, I mean my old bedroom that is next to her bedroom that she had our Papa convert into a giant walk in closet when I moved out.

We were currently getting ready for the formal dinner that was more of a Disney-level ball, and she was freaking out every 5 minutes because-

"Hunter is already here! He just arrived, and I am nowhere near ready!" She was hyperventilating like this was the literal end of the universe itself. Again, I wish I could bottle her innocence and sunshine up and never let anyone taint it.

"Hunter is a big boy. He'll survive by himself for a little while, Ari." I chuckled, trying to pinpoint exactly what more she needed to do. She claims to be nowhere near ready, but she seemed more than ready to me. At the same time she stomped back into her closet, there was a light knock on the door and in came Angelina. I put my black manicured index finger to my lips to indicate to her to not upset Ariana any more.

"Um, dare I ask what else you still have to do?" I called out to Ariana, but all I heard was banging and thuds. Furrowing my perfectly done brows, Angelina and I walked over to her closet to see her throwing shoes around.

"I can't find them! My Swarovski Jimmy Choos!" Somehow her voice had risen ten more octaves, and I feared that she was about to break the sound barrier. Or deafen me. At least if my ear crumbs burst, I wouldn't have to listen to this any more.

"Ari-", I tried interrupting her so she could put her crazy away for a second, to remind her that she had already taken the shoes out earlier to be cleaned, and that they were currently in Angelina's hand in a cotton bag from whoever our Mama had used to clean them.

"No, Aura! I need to wear them!" She came barreling out of the closet, perfectly done except for her bare feet and the glimmer of murder in her eyes. Thankfully, it subsided when Angelina offered her the white flag of holding the shoes up in the air. Ariana stomped over to her like a defiant child, snatching them from her hand with an almost inaudible 'thanks'.

"Did you come up here to raid my closet?" She asked Angelina, slipping the heels over her perfectly manicured feet. Angelina furrowed her brows, confused, smoothing out her dress.

"N-no, why would I need to raid your closet?" She asked, suddenly insecure about her fashion choices, but Ariana simply raised a perfectly waved eyebrow at her before looking over at me like it was supposed to be obvious.

"Because you look like a Sunday school teacher." She said, like it was a stupid question to ask, finally looking over at Angelina. I just sucked in my bottom lip between my teeth to hide my smile, because I could see where Ariana was coming from. Not that I would ever tell Angelina I agreed with her.

"I do not! Aurora Salvatore, do I look like a nun?" Angelina and Ariana both turned to me at the exact same time, Angelina with her arms crossed and hip popped out. Ariana with a hand on her hip, eyebrow still raised.

Angelina was wearing a navy blue floor-length gown that loosely hugged her body with long sleeves and a turtle neck with pearls along the neckline, her blonde hair up in a perfect quaff.

Ariana wore a baby blue- her signature color- satin, off-the-shoulder, floor-length gown. It cinched at her waist with a matching belt line, and fell to the floor, except for the slit that exposed her right Jimmy Choo, up to above her knee.

And here I stood in a black, strapless floor-length gown. A sultry lace on the corset top that our Mama graciously tightened until I could barely breathe, that ruched at the waist where the lace met the satin material that was the tight bottom of the gown, yet exposed my almost entire right leg, because my left one was where I had a gun and a knife strapped to my thigh.

I even allowed Ariana's makeup artist to give me a full face of glamorous makeup consisting of a black Smokey eye that made my crystal blue ones that were already full of rage and murder pop even more, and a glossy nude lip. And my long brunette hair had spent almost it's entire day in heated rollers that gave me these voluminous curls that bounced as I walked around.

"If it's any consolation, you look like a really hot nun?" I tried to take both sides,  to which Ariana hmphed at Angelina who looked offended that I didn't take her side, but not that any feelings were actually hurt.

"I got it from your closet, Aura!" Angelina argued, and Ariana gasped like it was the end of the world that AJ owned such a travesty.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get drunk like the rest of the adults, while you two stand up here arguing about fashion." I said, pointing to Ariana's door with my perfectly manicured thumb, nodding my head at them.

As soon as we had gotten downstairs, Ariana had hunted down Hunter, pun intended. Meanwhile, Angelina and I found the nearest bar since she had a nanny at her house with the kids, and a husband who was off shmoozing with other men in our world. Networking, mingling, if you would.

Meanwhile, I was enjoying her company, politely greeting guests around me, and itching to get back home and interrogate Emilia before I fill Antonio in on everything I've learned about his sudden new best friend.

I was only on my second glass of whiskey when Antonio approached me, like I summoned him from my thoughts.

"Jesus, I need one of those immediately." He said, like he'd just run a marathon and needed a sip of water. I handed him the last of my whiskey, and he graciously threw it back before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I turned towards the bar, as the bartender placed down two more whiskeys neat for us.

"Not enjoying your party?" I teased him, turning back around so my back wasn't to the room full of half strangers.

"It's not my party, Aura. Don't start." He said, finally relaxing next to me. He wasn't businessman, mafia king Antonio Salvatore. He was Tony, having a drink with his little sister whom he knew he could trust with anything, and whom could trust him with anything. Which was why I needed to talk to him about Dominico ASAP.

"It's going to be your party one day. Once Papa's retired. This is all yours, Salvatore." I said, motioning around the room to everything. "That's why they're all kissing your ass and bombarding you." I took a sip of my drink, thanking the universe that I wasn't Tony.

"I wish they'd all kiss my ass from far, far away." He said, taking his phone out from his pocket, checking something quickly, before putting it away. His jaw clenched before he took another sip of his drink, and opened his mouth, lowering his voice his time.

"That guy that followed you yesterday was taken care of, by the way." He said, and my eyes slowly went over to his which were across the room. I followed his gaze across the room full of people, and my breath actually hitched in my throat, as I tried my best to steal my facial expressions.

Jesus fuck.

Enemy, Aurora. He sent men after you. He is not to be trusted.

But, fuck, did he fill out that Armani.

Black from head to toe, his custom fitted suit hugged his large frame like a second skin, somehow making his already tan skin looking even more golden and delicious, and those piercing green eyes more venomous. Eyes that were trained right on me by the time my eyes wondered from top to bottom, then top again.

"Aurora, play nice." Antonio used his older brother tone, but I just sipped my drink as I watched Mr. Vitale speak with my father. Traitor.

He tried having your daughter kidnapped, Papa.

And he may or may not be working with my fucking husband.

I needed to know what brought Mr. Vitale all the way back home. The real reason.

Before I could say anything, however, Antonio was interrupted yet again by some older man who seemed familiar, but far too insignificant for me to care for his last name.

There was only man I was curious about tonight, and I needed to get to the bottom of his motives as soon as possible. Hopefully, he was my next step closer to wrapping my hands around the throat of Nico Russo.