The Don’s Revenge

Aurora’s POVI stumbled after him. My head wasn’t even attached to my body. We ran down the street, toward the car.The second he slammed the door shut, I exploded.“Dad, what have you done? What have you done?” I screamed, tears already flooding my face.“Calm down,” he barked, eyes wild as he started the engine. “It’s gonna be fine. We’ll be fine.”“No! You shot him! You shot him, Dad, he’s dead! The man is dead!” I sobbed, gripping the dashboard like it could hold me together.He didn’t answer. He just drove, fast and sharp, weaving through streets like he was a pro driver.“Turn back! Please, we have to go back!” I peered behind, at the mess we had left. “Someone has to help him. We have to take him to the hospital.”“We can’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “They’ll be looking for us. We don’t have time.”They? I didn’t even know who they were. All I knew was that blood had spilled, and my father, my quiet, gentle father, was the one who pulled the trigger.When we reached the a

Aurora’s POVHe held my gaze for a moment, then turned around. Some of the men got into the car with him. Two men wrapped my father’s body in a blanket and picked him up like he wasn’t a living, breathing human only moments ago, then tossed him into the trunk of one of the cars.I was still on my knees, blood-stained hands and clothes, staring off into the distance. Tears trickled down my cheeks, but not a single sound escaped my mouth. How could everything change so fast? One night? One dinner? And now, two men were dead. My father was dead. The trajectory of my life had changed so drastically.Just then, one of the men approached me. My head jerked in his direction. I recognized him. I wouldn’t forget him. Nico. He had piercing green eyes and bleached blonde hair. He stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of dark-colored hair. He was the man who had gleefully handed Angelo the sword that killed my father. He was number three on the list of men I was going to kill when the time to aven

Angelo’s POV The night Dante died…I sat in the living room, staring off into space, lost in my own thoughts. My vision was blurry, and I could barely make out the people in the room with me. I didn’t recognize their voices, but I knew they were angry from their pacing and loud talking.I was still clutching tightly to the toy Dante had given me earlier. It felt like I was holding onto the last piece of him I had left.“Master Angelo, would you like to change out of your shirt?” Rosa, our housekeeper, asked.I blinked repeatedly and turned to look at her. “What?” I whispered softly.She smiled at me, but tears welled up in her eyes. Her hands shook, and her lips quivered. Of course she was hurting. She had taken care of Dante and me since we were kids. She was practically our mother.“I was asking if you needed to change out of your shirt,” she repeated, holding a new blue shirt.I looked down at my stained shirt. At first glance, you would think the blood was mine—but it wasn’t. It

Aurora’s POVNothing prepared me for the surprise he had in store for me. When I was ranting the night before, I didn’t think he would take me seriously, or that he even believed me in the first place. But apparently, he did, because they were here.My best friend, Isabella. And my boyfriend, Luca.Isabella’s eyes lit up when she saw me, a wide smile spreading across her face. For a moment, I forgot all about the men armed with guns hiding in plain sight. I rushed toward her and pulled her into a warm embrace. She smelled like pleasant flowers, and her arms wrapped tightly around me. I blinked back the tears and buried my face in her neck. I didn’t want her to see me bawling my eyes out. It would alarm her and those men were still lurking around, waiting on Angelo’s command.“Bella,” my voice came out as an inaudible gasp as I gripped her tightly.“Rora, you had us worried sick.” She pulled away and peered at me.

Aurora’s POVI was descending the stairs when I heard the knock at the door. My heart sank in my stomach. Ever since I met with Isabella and Luca, I had waited with bated breath for someone to come rushing through those doors to save me. I said a silent prayer under my breath that Isabella had seen the signs and that she had gone to the cops. So with each passing day, I’d wait eagerly, my heart racing when I heard someone at the door.Angelo glanced up from where he stood in the living room, his eyes met mine briefly.“Are you expecting someone?” I asked, before I could stop myself. We were not on speaking terms. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t said a word to me since that day, but I couldn’t help but try.He didn’t answer me. Instead, he moved toward the door without a word. I hovered near the bottom of the staircase, clutching the railing with damp fingers.The knock came again, louder this time. It sounded urgent.Angelo opened