Blood Means Nothing

EIGHTEEN

"Your grandfather is here," Leonardo says as he walks into my bedroom. "Ok," I mumble as I finish putting my hair into a ponytail. "Aurora," he says, stepping closer to me. "Yes?" I question.

"No matter what our grandfather says, just know that we care about you," he tells me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I care about you, Aurora." I smile up at him. "I know," I say, turning to face him.

"Ok. Well, let's introduce you to your grandfather," he says. He takes my hand and leads us down the stairs. My grandfather focused his eyes on my brothers. The moment he notices us, though, his eyes lock onto mine. "Hello, Aurora," his voice is rough and monotone.

I walked over to our grandfather, and my brothers focused their eyes on me. Hello, Grandfather," I say, holding out my hand in greeting. His cold, brown eyes flick from my hand to my face and back again before finally landing on my extended arm. ". You have a tattoo on your wrist," he states, staring at my wrist. At his words, I can feel everyone in the room becoming tense. "She's seventeen; she can have tattoos," Axel remarks in a sass-filled voice.

If my grandfather tells me I can't have tattoos, I will punch him.

"It's a meaningful tattoo along with my other tattoos," I say, retracting my hand. "It's time for dinner," Matteo blurts out, walking over to us.

"Fine," I mumble as I walk to the dining room.

Once I get there, I sit down and look around. I see Leo staring daggers at Vincenzo while Adrian seems bored.

"Who is the tattoo for?" my grandfather asks as he finishes his food. "excuse me?" I asked, confused. "The angel wings on your wrist. Who are they for?" he asks. My brothers tense up and look at me with so much pity that it's sickening.

I try not to show how uncomfortable I am with this question, but somehow my heart beats too loud for my ears to handle, and my throat tightens. "They're for my daughter Amara," I answer quietly, my mouth dry.

I never talk about Amara. When I even think about her, I cry for hours and think about the life I could've given her if she had lived.

"You had a daughter?" my grandfather asks, a look of disgust plastered on his face.

Axel grabs my hand in a soft grip, rubbing tiny circles onto the palm of my hand.

"That is enough, Vincenzo," Leonardo commands, standing from his chair. My grandfather looks taken aback by his anger. "I'm only asking my granddaughter questions, which I have every right to," he says, his voice rich with irritation.

"You will not come into my house and act as if my sister disgusts you!" Leo shouts, his hands gripping the table in a deathly grip.

"I am not acting disgusted," my grandfather shouts back.

"Please, it's all over your damn face!" Matteo blurts out, glaring at him.

That's the first time I've ever heard Matteo curse.

"If I were you, I would watch how you speak. It is not my fault your sister is such a slut," he replies, rising from his chair.

They were right about Vincenzo Rossi; he is a fucking bastard.

"Say that again, I dare you! You may be my grandfather, but that gives you no right to speak of my sister that way!" Matteo grits out.

"We can leave if you want to," Axel whispers, squeezing my hand lightly. I squeeze it back, silently agreeing with him.

"Come on," Axel whispers to Adrian as we leave the dining room. "Where are we going to go?" I ask, pulling my hair from its ponytail.

"Anywhere you want to go," Adrian says, offering me a small smile. "Let's go get ice cream," I say, running toward the garage.