Dinner and Death

Aurora’s POV

It started with a dinner. Just a simple dinner.

Dad had called it “a little tradition.” It was the second anniversary of Mom’s death. He’d put on a button-down shirt, ironed it and everything, and even insisted I wear something nice. Said we should do it right this year.

We went to Mom’s favorite restaurant. He never told me how he could afford it—I asked all day, but he just smiled and told me not to worry.

I had no idea that dinner would change everything.

We locked eyes from across the room; he had light grey eyes, like the sky before a thunderstorm, enchanting. His dark hair was unruly, falling over his forehead until he raked his fingers through it. Then he stood.

I quickly looked away, focusing on my father.

“You remind me so much of her, Rora…” he said softly, reaching forward to tug at my cheek. “Your beautiful eyes…”

I smiled faintly, but my heart thundered in my chest. From the corner of my eye, I saw him walking toward us.

Had he noticed me staring?

“Hello,” he greeted, his voice warm and low, paired with a charming smile.

I inhaled sharply, caught off guard by how close he was now. I looked from Dad to him. “Hi,” I said, the word barely a whisper.

“Umm…” He glanced back nervously. “Yeah… I just thought you looked really beautiful, and I—”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from blushing.

Up close, he was even more devastating. Tall. Lean but strong. A sharp jaw. High cheekbones. God-awful handsome.

“You were just going to your seat,” my father cut in, his tone clipped.

The stranger blinked, flustered. “Oh—God, I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce myself, I’m—”

“No one cares,” Dad snapped. “I’m her father. We’re having dinner. You’re interrupting.”

“Hey. What’s going on here?” Another man approached us. He looked a lot like the handsome stranger but older and rough.

My father’s expression faltered.

“Dante, you didn’t have to come up here, I was handling it…” the handsome man was saying.

Father rose to his feet suddenly and grabbed my hand, “Come, Rora! We are leaving.”

“Father!” I protested. His sudden shift stunned me. People had started watching. “It’s okay, he was just talking—”

“We’re leaving. Now.” His grip tightened.

“What the heck?” Dante yelled, staring at us wide-eyed.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s nothing, let it go, brother,” the handsome man was saying. Our eyes locked moments before father dragged me out the door.

“Dad, what the heck was that?” I asked as soon as we were outside. “You ruined mom’s anniversary dinner all because of a guy, he was harmless, he just wanted to talk, I wanted to talk to him.”

“You don’t know that, Rora. A lot of people are not what they seem.” He was still dragging me along to the driveway.

I yanked against his grip. “Okay, relax! You don’t have to protect me from everything. I’m not a child. I can handle myself.”

“But I’ll never stop being your father!” he snapped, stopping short.

And then everything happened at once.

The two men from inside rushed out, with three other men trailing behind.

Before I knew what was happening, the other one had pulled out a gun and pointed it at my father.

“Oh my God!” I gasped, my eyes widened in alarm.

“Dante!” The handsome one yelled.

“Hey old man, I’ve got a gun pointed at you. So you’re going to let my brother talk to your daughter and then we can all leave here in one piece, do we have a deal?” Dante asked.

Father raised his hand in surrender, but he was glaring at him.

“Brother…” he tried to intervene.

“I’m handling it,” Dante insisted.

He sighed, “I don’t think this is going to work, Dante, you’re scaring her, look at her,” he glanced over at me, I was shaking like a leaf.

Dante looked over at me, “Oh, don’t mind me, Bella (beautiful). You don’t have to fear, my brother here, he’s nothing like me. He’s not a low life, he’s really smart, and kind, and he’s the best choice really, trust me,” he peered behind him, “Boys! You can go on, I’ll handle it, we don’t want to scare the little doll, now do we?”

The men hesitated.

“I said go, now!” He yelled.

I shuddered in fright, my hands were icy, and I was frozen to the spot.

Soon it was just the four of us left.

“Brother, go to her,” he instructed.

He walked up to me.

I was fidgety and I wouldn’t look him in the eye. My father still had a gun pointed at his head. He was right after all; people aren’t what they seem.

“I’m really sorry, my brother, Dante, he’s…well…” he stole a glance at him.

“Don’t look at me, brother. Stare into your lover’s eyes!” Dante yelled excitedly.

He sighed, “He’s excessive.”

I nodded and managed a faint smile even though my heart was hammering in my chest. “He is, isn’t he?” my voice was barely above a whisper.

“See, we don’t have to talk or see each other again after today,” he reached inside his pocket and pulled out his phone, “Just give me your number and your name, I guess that…”

And boom, the shots went off, one, two, three.

The blood drained from my face, my eyes widened in horror. I couldn’t react.

He pulled me toward him, his strong arms wrapped around me protectively, as he crouched down. I collapsed against his hard chest, the scent of his cologne wrapped around me. My ears were ringing.

“Dante!” he gasped. “What have you d—“

I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. For a brief moment, I wondered if I was stuck in a twisted dream. Surely the gunshots that had gone off weren’t real, the handsome man I was now clinging to like my life depended on it, wasn’t real.

Suddenly I was pulled away from his grasp, “Rora, come on!” Father yelled.

Father! He was okay.

But then, who wasn’t?

I turned around to see Dante, laying on the ground in a pool of blood. The stranger, the one I now realized I hadn’t even gotten a name from, was running to him.

My heart stopped.

What have you done, father?