Aurora took Tara’s hand.  Her middle child looked to her then and gave her a sad smile, an attempt at reassuring her mother she was going to be okay.  Aurora had seen that look before, so many times - so many goodbyes - too many. No, Tara would not be talked out of going and if she was going, Brigitte would follow.  Billy was right, if she locked Tara away and Oriana died, it would forever be a wedge between them. The daughter she so loved would be destroyed by it. Nothing would be left of the girl who once was because the same had nearly happened to her.  She had almost become Volkov’s mother, adopting Brigitte to craft an instrument of revenge… how different her life would have been if Billy really had died!

Silently, Aurora thanked God for all the good her parents put into her and for the Lord’s mercy in allowing that Billy wasn’t really dead.  He was merely gone for a time, so she could learn what it was she was made of, the good and the bad. And all that was good in herself, she’d put into her children thanks to the final lesson of Aunt Tara - a lesson made manifest next to her, holding her hand now.

It was the reason that, as the car pulled around the hanger and a plane came into sight that Tara turned to look at her mother with confusion.  

“I know you’ve never seen it and I had to make some calls to get it cleaned up and repaired in the last twenty-four hours but … it seemed appropriate that I should send you to Europe in your namesake’s plane.  It’s equipped for long trips, missions like this. Your Aunt Tara didn’t just use her plane for transportation it was a hub - a command center. It’ll serve you well just as it once served her.”

Tara threw her arms around her mom.  “You’re not mad?”

“Of course not,”  She stroked her daughter’s hair as she held her, the way she used to when she was little - the way her own mother used to do to her.  “You’re following in the grand tradition of the Byrne family, Tara. Running off to rescue someone you love without half a clue what shit show you’re walking into?  That’s pretty much what we do.”  

Tara laughed and held her mother tightly.

“I just can’t stop blaming myself for not making you more ready for it.  I should have known that the daughter who clung to the bible and most fought for her family’s safety would be the one who would throw herself in the path our enemies first.  For as strong as your brother is, for as charming as your sister can be, you are every bit as cunning Tara - it means you have the ability to solve difficult problems and the foresight to understand what’s likely to transpire if you don’t.  Your clarity of thought means you’re the one who most understands the stakes, whose empathy is so strong that you can’t stand to sit on your hands.”

Aurora pulled back and looked at Tara in her brown eyes.  

“That’s your grandfather’s brand of wisdom.  I used to think I had put into you the best of my Aunt Tara - what with your focus on books and the like but no, I see now that you have both my father and Aunt’s strengths.  Somehow, without realizing it, I gave you a tremendous gift. I just… I’m just afraid. I don’t want to lose that part of them again.” She didn’t want to cry. Her daughter didn’t need to see that now, but it was hard not to, so very hard.

“I’m coming home, Mom.”  Tara insisted, firmly, her voice unwavering.  She truly seemed to believe it and Aurora nodded in response.  “Try not to worry - it’s bad for you and the baby. Dad and the kids, they need you strong.  Brigitte and I will be back home fighting over nonsense in no time.”

The car came to a stop and for a long moment, they held each other again.  Exiting the vehicle Tara was greeted by another sight she hadn’t expected. “Raini? Mom said you were retiring after Mattaranzi.”

“And miss the chance to see you in action?  No. Your grandmother’s ghost would not let me sleep if I didn’t come.  Besides, I’ll be with the plane the whole time. You won’t need to worry about these old bones slowing you down.  I’m just the pilot this time.”

“Her advice might be useful to you if you can’t get ahold of me though,”  Aurora said getting out of the car. “She’s been in more than her fair share of impossible situations.  I trust her to advise you and Brigitte as I would.” Tara smiled at the old woman before her, and nodded.  If Patches’ presence made her mother sleep easier, she was not going to reject it.  

Billy was just settling into his chair when Tara finally looked his direction.  Brigitte had come to her mother and was giving her a hug and kiss. Gavin’s leather jacket looked great on her, Aurora had to admit.  She looked powerful & at ease, like the lioness for which Aurora was nicknamed. A stark contrast to Tara, who at the moment appeared fierce and restless, a wolf caged Aurora realized.

“I’ll bring her home,”  Brigitte promised Aurora.  In her oldest daughter’s voice, she could hear her own, promising her mother she’d keep Will safe.  It was a burden she never wanted Brigitte to feel, but one she could not prevent because the blonde was a good-hearted woman and every bit as fearless & dutiful as her mother.  Her real mother, not the mad-woman who had attacked Billy.

“A few gifts before you go…”  Aurora said going back into the car as Billy came to join them there on the runway.  From the car she pulled out a weathered lockbox. The girls immediately knew what was inside.  

“Gavin apparently won’t be needing these so…”   She produced the pearl-handled nickel-plated M1911s.  “These are for protecting family. They bear the crest of the Luciano family.  The three fish are a symbol of wisdom and cunning - of knowing when best to use these.  They bark loudly and they bite deep. Treat them well and they will treat you well.”

She put one into the shoulder holster under Brigitte’s jacket, replacing the gun she had there, “Lion’s claw.  The first gun I tend to draw. Fast. Unwavering. Shot from my hip as much as anything - a small bit of me with you.”  She smiled at Brigitte who stood a bit taller and prouder.  

She turned to Tara and pushed aside Ori’s jacket and found the Beretta M1923 there.  Before she could reach to remove it, Tara put a hand on her mother’s. “Let Brigitte carry them both.  This one is mine. I’ve been training with it, I feel more comfortable with it.”  

Aurora nodded and turned back to Brigitte who was beaming.  “I have a double holster, would you -”

“Please!”  Brigitte said taking off the jacket and stripping off the single holster gear, donning her mother’s double holster.  

“Dragon’s Breath,” She said as she put the second gun in its place on Brigitte.  “I don’t know if you remember, but the small bit of training you did have was with this gun.  It’s got the truer sight. It’s perfection. Deadly. If you shoot at something with this gun, it’s going to die.  Lean on it when the shot matters. One gun at a time, none of that two gun action you see in the cowboy movies. You don’t have the upper arm strength necessary to keep any real control of either if you’re using both.”

“Yes, Ma’am,”  Brigitte said as Aurora helped her back into Gavin’s coat.

Looking at Tara she gave a nod and hesitated only a moment before she knelt down and began unstrapping her father’s knife from her calf.

“Mom, you don’t have to do that-”  Tara began.

“Hush.  This is hard enough on me, letting you go without me… so you’ll take this,”  She said strapping Gavin’s knife onto Tara’s calf. “And you’ll bring it back to me when you’re done.  I’ll sleep easier thinking you have something of this family protecting each of you.”

Tara nodded.

Billy watched as Aurora went through her ritual, giving each of the girls something to go with, something to protect them. There was nothing he could do for them that she couldn’t in that regard. His gifts were already given to Tara.

“Well, your mother seems to have weapons covered, so come give your father a kiss goodbye then. It’s not like I’m going to be able to chase you up the stairs onto the plane.”

He smiled and held his arms wide for both of his daughters, but did not move other than that. Brigitte was the first over and she gave his a hug, burying his face in her golden mop of curls.

“Sweetheart, you should keep a rubber band or something with you. If you get into a fight, you’re going to need to put your hair up and out of the way. Trust me on this, I’ve seem more women go down because of their hair than I care to admit. Looks gorgeous, dangerous liability in a fight.”

It was a rare moment when her father spoke to her bluntly and without admiration in his voice, so Brigitte nodded and took his words to heart.

Then Tara came over, sullenly.

“I wish you could come.”

Billy shook his head.

“No, you don’t. I would slow you down, and probably just sit in a hotel the whole time. At least here I can make phone calls, track some folks down for you, throw money in the right direction. Last time I was in Italy I almost died, so I think it’s probably better to stay home. You though? Well, Brigitte came home safe, your mom has come home every time. Oriana got out once and came home a second time. I have a feeling Italy likes girls.”

He smiled and watched as Tara just nodded.

“Alright then, I see you’re not in a joking mood. Go on, what’s on your mind. What do you need to ask before you go?”

Tara took her father’s hands in her own and, for the first time in a long while - maybe since coming back to the United States from Canada, she asked him, “Will you pray with me?”

Billy nodded.

“I can’t kneel though, God will have to forgive me for that.”

Ironically, beside her father’s chair, Tara was doing just that, kneeling.  Holding his hand put her in the position perfectly. Tara held a hand back toward Brigitte who nodded and accepted the offered hand with one hand and took her father’s free hand in the other.  Aurora put her hands on each of her daughter’s bowed heads as they knelt beside their father’s chair to pray.  

Billy began reciting the Ave Maria, of course, he said only the first few words before letting the girls take over. Mary, the mother of the Son of God was the protector of women, Billy was not one of her charges. Billy had no right to ask it of her, and yet, here he was, begging her to protect his girls when he knew full well he was the one putting them in danger.

After they had finished, he kissed both his girls on their heads.

“So tell your father, what can he do for you. If you could have anything right now, within reason… “He leveled his gaze at Brigitte. “...what would that be?”

Brigitte stood up and put her hand into her pocket and pulled out a small black hair tie and began binding her hair back, the wind trying desperately to thwart her best effort.  She was, for the most part, successful with only a few stray wisps of blonde curls having escaped capture.

“I’d like my nail back.”  Brigitte finally said, breaking the silence that hung for so long between them all.  

Tara blinked but did not speak.  She looked at her Dad and then Brigitte, wondering what if anything had been said to the girl yet.  Did her dad even have it with him? What would he say or do when asked for such a, now tainted, thing?  Surly Brigitte still didn’t know. She wouldn’t ask for it if she did. Tara’s brow furrowed but she did not speak.

Aurora turned to talk to Raini quietly, conveying to the older woman something that Tara could not make out over the sound of the plane and the wind on the open field.

Billy nodded and pulled out the nail, gingerly handing it over to his daughter.

“Let’s hope it does you better than it did me huh?” He squeezed her hand tight around the thing, and then lifted it to kiss it. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes already. Last time he sent her with her mother, this time? This time he was really going to worry and miss his petit ange.

Tara sighed.  “I know you want to give me something, but the only thing in the whole world I want right now… well, even if I find and save Ori from Francesco, I still don’t think it can ever really have it.  All I can do is get on that plane, and fight like hell to bring her home. The rest of it, it might just be a fairytale. But ... that you were the first person to have given me your blessing to chase after it, that means everything in the world to me, Daddy.  Thank you for that.”

Billy smiled. “Bullshit.”

He shook his head. “Not the sentiment, but the fact that you think I was the first one. Cause I’m not. I never could be.” He engulfed his daughter then in his body, dragging her onto his chair with him.

“You were the first one. Nobody gets to tell you otherwise. Nobody gets to tell you how to live your life or the person you want to be or choose to be or were made to be. Only you get to decide that. Even if I wasn’t happy with how things turned out, that doesn’t ever give me the right to tell you you can’t be who you are Taa. Nobody can do that.” He squeezed her close to him then.

“I know you’re going to go get her, that’s fine. And your mom gave you your grandpa’s knife too, that’s something. I don’t have anything like that to give you. I don’t have…” he stopped, and then pulled her back a bit.

Billy then reached into his jacket pocket and removed the only thing that his father had ever truly given to him. He opened Tara’s hand and slid the gold pocket watch into it.

“There. Now you will know what time it is in New York, and you won’t have any excuses as to why you might be late for Sunday dinner.” He pulled Tara into a hug again, more to avoid anyone seeing his tears escaping him than anything else.

Tara squeezed her father tight, feeling the steady motion of the clock’s internal parts wrapped up inside her hand - unfailing like her father’s beating heart.  The man always knew what to say and she could completely understand, despite having no real attraction to men at all, why her mother loved him so.

“I gotta go, Dad.”  she whispered beside his ear.  “Take care of Mom, make sure she stays calm, okay?  We’ll be alright.”

Tara stood up then and Brigitte was already walking towards the plane beside Patches. Dr. Magnotti, Josephine, Crupi, Laurent, and Renato were already on board. Tara turned and gave her mother one more quick hug and that was it.  Without another word, the young women were on their way.

Chapter 3: An Unexpected Return

Three Weeks Later

For three weeks, Tara had been in Italy… and she’d discovered nothing. Every information broker clammed up. There were no clues to be found. Using Renato’s skills as a scout and gleaning some information from a local official who was enamored with Brigitte, the team managed to locate the compound where Ori and the other girls had been raised and trained- but now, it was only full of ghosts. The Dolomite Mountains loomed over Tara. Ori had once looked at those mountains, but the mountains and the woman were both untouchable now. More scouting inside the city of Venice revealed the orphanage where Tara had spent the first twelve years of her life. But they learned nothing there, either. 

With three weeks of no leads, every Mastrosimone was tense. The phone calls with Tara nearly always resulted in the girl snapping at them, and although she usually remembered to apologize, sometimes she hung up on them. They needed something to go on- fast. One quiet night, when Billy was away on business, it arrived.

The message came in to the Mastrosimone house with express instructions that it be spoken only to Billy Mastrosimone; the man doing the actual delivery of the message looked more like a formal emissary than an errand boy, so Rora was as patient as she could be as she made her way to her husband’s side. The man was escorted to Billy in the sitting room, where he bowed low before handing the telegram to Billy and formally greeting him in Italian.

"Don Danilo Bastianelli manda i suoi saluti e la sua speranza per una relazione prospera tra le tue famiglie. Ha sentito che stai cercando una signorina Montini e ha trovato questa donna per te. Ha pagato i dottori e lei dovrebbe vivere, nonostante abbia perso il braccio Ora che la situazione è stabile, la giovane prenderà un volo privato per New York. L'aereo arriverà più tardi oggi. "

"Don Bastianelli non chiede alcun premio, tranne per il fatto che continua in una fruttuosa collaborazione con la tua famiglia. Ti contatterà per discutere di potenziali affari nel prossimo futuro."

He paused. 

“Devo aggiungere che Don Bastianelli si sentiva più a suo agio a spedire la ragazza direttamente a te. Aveva sentito che tua figlia era in campagna, ma era sbagliato contattarla direttamente. Inoltre, questa donna ha connessioni molto pericolose. Don Bastianelli riteneva che valesse la pena inviarlo tramite un intermediario.”

"Ho consegnato il messaggio esattamente come mi è stato dettato e non sembra appropriato aggiungere altro alle parole del Don. Chiedo umilmente il permesso di andarmene".

______

In the early evening, as the sun was beginning to approach the horizon, a black sedan pulled up to the Mastrosimone house in Dyker Heights. The rear passenger door swung open as soon as the car came to a stop, and a shapely young woman, bundled in layers of clothing, emerged from the car, her long, black jacket trailing behind her. Two men in suits left the car to help her, but she angrily waved them off without a word and they returned to their vehicle. She moved slowly up the pathway like she was much older than she seemed. A scarf covered her hair, sunglasses covered her eyes, but nothing could cover the grievous wound that she'd suffered: the left sleeve of her jacket was empty. She approached the house with a pained look on her face and stopped in front of the guard who greeted her.

"Please tell Mr. and Mrs. Mastrosimone that Viola Montini is here to see them."

Aurora had gotten a bit wiser after the incident with the Swede, or perhaps had become a bit more paranoid as the swell in her belly was now noticeable by even the most untrained observer.  She kept two men with her at all times, no one came into the house unchecked anymore, and security was as tight as ever. She had silently vowed to never again let it be so lax. The day war or assassins came for her family, as they had at Hollowpoint, they would fight their way through hell and pay for her life in their own blood.

Aurora had ‘Viola’ taken into the sitting room and she prepared to meet with the woman by making sure the children were all off doing anything else.  If this was Oriana, well, then it would be an unnecessary precaution. If the Don had sent her someone else, friend of foe, they would not be at risk.  Carlin and Bates were on her, ready for whatever might be on the other side of the door as she opened it and entered the den dressed in a simple dress and comfortable flats that were meant to ease her swollen ankles and feet.

It was immediately clear that the woman in the sitting room was not Oriana- although there was a strong association there for Aurora. “Viola”, if she was telling the truth, was remarkably similar to the woman Aurora had met across a dinner table once- after meeting her knives initially. Dangerous, but present to talk. Brown eyes looked at Aurora instead of grey ones, and this woman was obviously weaker than Oriana had been. With her coat removed, her missing arm was even more obvious. It was a recent injury.

Aurora sighed, relief flooded her at seeing that it wasn’t Oriana, and yet the knowledge that this was very likely one of her associates from the Old Country didn’t exactly put her at ease.  In truth, after what had happened recently, it only made matters somewhat worse. Aurora wanted to trust her instincts, they had saved Volkov and Oriana both, creating new family from enemies… and yet she’d sat across from a man who wanted to kill her and she’d taken his odd behavior for nothing but the oddities of a trained killer and mercenary.  Was her judgment being affected by the events of late, her pregnancy, or old age? Could she afford to so recklessly trust anyone who might be a lost puppy looking for help and mentoring again? The stakes were higher now in some ways and so Aurora found herself feeling somewhat hesitant.

“Viola?”  

“Yes.”

“Your real name or just what I’m to know you as?”  she asked, watching the other woman closely.

“My real name, as far as I can tell.” The woman spoke neutrally, like someone was asking her the time at a bus stop. Still, she was obviously recovering from her injury.

“Surely you understand my confusion as to your presence here.  Don Bastianelli might have thought you were the woman I was seeking, but surely you knew that wasn’t true.  So, I have to ask, why are you here?”

“I’m here because I’d be dead, otherwise. I told the hospital my name was Oriana Montini. I figured that someone would be looking for her, and although the odds were good that I would have wound up dead, I knew that there were Americans offering money for information on Oriana. So I lied to survive, and here I am. I have an offer for you.”

Aurora lifted her chin slightly, “I’m listening.”

“I’ll keep this straightforward. I will tell you what happened to Oriana Montini. She’s alive, as far as I know. At least for now. I’ll also help you find her- no one else can. I have information, and I also know how she thinks- and how Francesco thinks. I will truthfully answer any question you ask me, and I will work to get Oriana back, since you want her so bad, and I will not betray you. In return, I want a million dollars in advance. Another million when we find Oriana. After that, I want to be left alone. By you- by everyone.”

Aurora looked at the girl’s eyes while she talked and then to her arm, or rather the lack thereof.  Thoughts of what the girl had gone through went through her head. Her father, for all his scars, had his limbs.  This girl, something had happened to her … something terrible and yet, considering the level of warped Oriana’s upbringing had been, could Aurora really trust that this monster wouldn’t use a wounded girl to get her to lower her guard?  Aurora had a track record and she knew it, which meant others did too. How many deadly assassins had she pulled tight to her chest in the past and not been cut ear to ear by? How long was it reasonable to expect that trend to hold? And, could she be who she was, if she stopped listening to her instincts?  Would she even want to find out…?

Aurora drew a breath and exhaled it slowly.  “You have a deal.” The day she stopped being who her father raised her to be, would be her last.  Of that, Aurora was certain. She just hoped it wouldn’t be today.

Viola nodded, unsurprised. “Send the money to this bank, this account.” She removed a card with a phone number and an account number on it.

“When I call and talk to my banker, the person I know is there right now, then we’ll talk. And you’ll get all your answers.”

Aurora nodded, Carlin came forward to take the paper.  The money made little difference to Aurora who would happily have paid more if the information proved good.  It seemed unlikely the woman was here as a thief though. Assassin, perhaps, but not a thief. “Well, let’s step into my office then, just this way.”  Aurora turned to leave, the bodyguards watching Viola as she did before holding the door for Viola to follow.

Viola followed, looking around cautiously as she listened to Aurora call the bank and make the arrangements. After Aurora had ended the call, Viola excused herself to use the restroom. She was gone for a while. When she returned, Viola was checked by Aurora’s guards. Then Viola called the bank to confirm the transaction. Nodding once, she sank down into the chair across the desk.

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

“Carlin, have the chef cook up something for Viola and I to have for dinner.  When Billy gets home please inform him of the situation.” She looked then to Viola, “Would you like something to drink while we wait for dinner to be prepared?  I can’t enjoy much in the way of my usual drinks but I do have a nice tea. Wine, if you like, is available.”

“Sure. Wine.”

She gave Carlin a nod and the woman left the room, Bates remained attentive as ever.  “How much do you know about what Oriana has going on here in New York? Are you… up to date on the situation we’re currently in?”

“More than you, I think. Oriana came with you and the blonde girl to Venice, where you killed Mattaranzi, his RHM, his LHM, his sister, and his nephew. You also fucked Francesco’s plans eight ways from Sunday. Then you came back here, but Oriana left again to try to kill Francesco. Now you want her back. What that what you were going to tell me?”

Aurora wondered if the girl was bragging, or trying to show off so she’d be impressed with her knowledge.  It was hard to say. Maybe it was just a simple way to show she was connected and that her information had value.  A safe way. Whatever it was, Rora was going to put her cards face-up on the table. The tactic would never have been approved by her mother, but it often put people ill-at-ease and allowed you a better read of them.  It was, in her past experience, worth the gamble.  

“The nephew… I can’t claim that one.  Someone else did that job. Thought it might have been someone you knew since it wasn’t likely the story I got.  Still, maybe I was told right. Regardless, it wasn’t my team.”

Viola shrugged.

Aurora nodded.  “And when you say we fucked Francesco’s plans, what were those exactly?”

“I don’t know. Something to do with Olimpia. He didn’t tell me everything. But he was pissed.”

“What did he do in response to our actions - that you know of?”

“I was in the U.S. at the time. I wasn’t there to see the immediate aftermath. All I know is that we got ordered to come back to Italy. Then we were ordered to get ready for Oriana- that there was a good chance she’d come back and try to kill Francesco, and we’d have to be ready for her.”

“Oriana is very good at what she does, I can see why he’d be concerned and recall his teams home.”  Aurora tested the waters and did her damndest to keep outwardly unreadable, utilizing every single trick her father ever taught her about poker.  She was never good at the game, but she prayed something had rubbed off because right now, her heart was thundering in her ears and she found herself itching to reach for the coal-black guns at her side.

“What happened next?”  she asked.

“Oriana showed up and tried to kill Francesco. Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“My chef is a fantastic man, his meals are worth the wait but wait we shall… let’s go with the long one.”  Carlin came just then with the wine and put the unopened bottle down in front of Aurora along with a corkscrew and two glasses.

“We heard a few rumors of Oriana tearing through Italy. This city, that city. Lots of bullshit. I can find her by retracing her steps, because I know for sure the first city she started hunting in- and who she killed there. I’ll take you-” She glanced down at Aurora’s stomach. “-or whoever to Genoa. Then we’ll retrace Oriana’s hunt. I should be clear that I don’t know where Francesco is. But if we follow where Oriana went, we’ll pick up the clues that she did. I know she was getting close to figuring things out- so close that Francesco left his new compound to avoid it being discovered. I’ll do whatever Oriana did, find whatever she found, and then you’ll find Francesco. Oriana will be with him. I think. I passed out before that was resolved.”

She sipped her wine.

“For that, you can blame Oriana. She cut my arm off in the fight on her way to ‘killing’ Francesco.”

“Why aren’t you with him now?  I would think with your training you’re still a valuable asset.”

“I am. But he saw me lying there, must have figured I was dead or close to it, and decided to leave me behind. I was never one of his favorites, like Oriana was.”

“So you don’t suffer the same romantic delusions as your peer, is what you’re saying?”  Aurora arched an eyebrow almost instantly cursing herself internally for having phrased it that way.

“I was trained to love Francesco. Part of me can’t help it. But… do you know what that training involved? Or did Oriana leave out the details?”

Her mother would have asked the question.  She would have given everything away by saying too much or too little.  Gavin had taught Aurora a better way. Aurora stared at the young woman and let her attach to that whatever she wished.

“I’ll take that as a no? Let’s just say that Oriana was the best at everything. No, that’s a lie. She was the best at just about everything- we let her be the best at everything else because otherwise she’d make our lives a living hell. Francesco, despite being a fucked up shitstain of a man, is a good looking guy. Dozen girls, one guy, things get competitive. He’d invite all of us to his bed at some point. But as we got older, some of us stopped getting that sort of attention. Oriana always got more of Francesco than everyone else combined. And he cared about her more than all of us. Which is why Oriana chopped my fucking arm off, and I’m the one who gets left in the street to die.”

Despite thinking this woman might have planted the bomb that killed Angie and Will, the woman who might have executed her eldest brother, Aurora couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for the girl in front of her who wasn’t that different in age than her own girls.  She thought about Brigitte and Tara and how competitive they were about certain things, about how catty and jealous they could be about each other’s strengths, and she realized then how easy it would be to take children and pit them against one another. How Volkov’s mother, Gavin, and Francesco all shared some common trait… even Gavin’s father really.  

They had forged weapons.  The only difference was the method used.  Had any of them been superior in some ways?  Was any of them ethical in the least? She always thought the best of her own father but she had turned from doing that with Brigitte and the other children for a reason… THIS reason.  Her father had raised her the best way he knew how, and she in turn did as all parents hope their children would do, she did better. One day, god willing, her kids would raise better children still.

“Francesco used whatever means he thought best to motivate you to perfection.  He’s a sick man. Brillant, tragic it’s wasted in such a way, but undeniably sick.  Oriana, despite everything, is motivated not by the stick but the carrot… nurturing.”  Aurora shook her head. “She has a long road ahead of her if she lives through this, as do you, I suspect.”

“Oh, she’s motivated by the stick alright. I know her better than you do, no disrespect. I spent almost every day of my life with her since we were kids. Just being honest, like I promised in our contract.”

Aurora knew the girl’s words were motivated by jealousy and hatred, they were likely not totally true and yet, knowing more about the woman who her daughter ‘loved’ was too great a temptation to disregard.  She wanted to know what Tara was getting herself into and what she was risking her life for and if there was any hope of a future with such a person.

“What do you mean?”

“I meant Francesco’s dick. Sorry, I’ll be more direct with my language, I guess.”

Aurora sighed.  “And despite all that, you think she’s gonna go through with it?  Do you think if she gets her chance that she’ll kill really kill him?  Or do you think … maybe he has too much sway over her still? I mean, how long ago did you run into her?  Days? Weeks?”

“I don’t know what day it is, for sure. Two, three weeks ago? As for your other question, Oriana cut my arm off and threw Serena off a bridge. I saw her point a gun at Francesco, and I saw her freeze before one of the little shits- the ‘next batch’ of girls- stabbed her and grabbed her gun.”

“Dear God, he does have a new group…”  Aurora muttered before thinking better of it.

“Seven of them. Although I think Oriana killed a few.”

Aurora covered her mouth, her eyes unable to lie so well as to hide her empathy for Oriana and the young girls who were slain.

“So, you think he took her prisoner then?  Or did you see her captured?”

“He yelled not to kill her. Because of course, he did. Then it was chaos for a little while. Don’t remember anything after that.”

Aurora nodded and after a short while of her sitting silent, rubbing her temples, dinner was brought in.  A pasta in red sauce, a small salad, and a basket of fresh bread. A small table was pulled away from the wall and the food was put upon it before Carlin retreated back against the wall with Bates.

“So, the plan would be that you give me information on Oriana’s movements such as you knew them or are you actually thinking of taking me or a person of my choosing through those places in Italy yourself?”

“The latter one. I know where Oriana started. I’m sure that if I get to the city I can figure out where she went next. I know Francesco’s contacts as well as Oriana did. Or almost as well. I can also use some of the rumors we heard to try to piece things together.”

Aurora dished herself some pasta and put some onto Viola’s plate as well.  “You think Oriana had been closing in on his newest base of operations then, his new training grounds, and by following her footsteps we’ll find this place he did not take you to?”

“I think Oriana has been chasing down Francesco’s contacts and getting pieces of information from them about where Francesco is. Then she kept adding more pieces until she started getting close. If we figure out where she went and who she got information from, we’ll figure out where she was going. 

“That’ll get us where she was going, but it won’t necessarily take us to where he took her.  Once you went out and presumably Oriana was captured, nothing would stop Francesco from uprooting again and moving to a new location.  Am I right?”

“It’s possible, sure. But he’s not the type to move around. We had the same place in Venice for a decade. And he specifically left where he was to keep Oriana from compromising the location, suggesting he wanted to stay there. You could be right. But I know him better, and I think he’s still there. If you have better leads, feel free to pursue them instead. I’ll keep my end of the deal, though. Just being honest.”

Viola shrugged again.

Aurora picked up her napkin and dabbed the red sauce from her lips.  The crimson stain on the white linen was a stark visual, especially in light of her current thoughts.  “Excuse me a moment, won’t you?” With that, Aurora got up to use the restroom.

Viola, lifting her knife one-handed, began the slow, laborious process of slicing her food by pressing down against the plate. She’d had a lot of practice in the last few weeks, and soon the pasta was neatly sliced. She switched to the fork and stabbed at the food, expertly bringing it to her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. 

Aurora washed her face, she tried to slow her heart down, to not let her anger and her frustration and sadness overwhelm her.  She knew much of her emotions were probably blamed upon the pregnancy and yet … the idea that she was breaking bread with a woman who simultaneously had the power to reunite Tara and Ori but also might have killed her brothers… it sickened her far worse than allow Mattarranzi get into his car at the party that night without having taken the shot.  

On one hand, she could kill the woman, which was as much mercy as revenge … but lose the only lead they had on Oriana’s whereabouts.  On the other hand, she could use this woman to track down and find Francesco - kill him - and rescue Oriana for Tara bringing them all home safe and sound… but then lose forever this woman who had done her and the world an immeasurable wrong.

Why was life so set upon putting her into these positions?  Whatever happened to the simplistic, ‘bad guy who does bad things to bad people in order to protect the good?’  Had that EVER been the case in all her life? When had anything ever been so black and white as her father had made it seem?  It was then she realized looking at herself in the mirror, that she had found the only lie Gavin had ever told her. The only sugar coating Gavin had ever put on anything for the benefit of his little girl’s mind.  Either that or her father was a far darker man than she gave him credit and honestly, she suspected that the prior, not the later, was true. Gavin was too good to have viewed the world that cynically.

It was good, in a weird way, to realize that he was human after all.  Still, it did nothing to solve her problem. The facts were simple though, it was she who made them more complex.  There was nothing to be done for Will or Angie or Volkov. Oriana could yet be saved. Tara could be protected.  

Family.

Will didn’t need her to kill this woman.  And, point of fact, he probably wouldn’t have wanted her to.  The girl, as much as Oriana, was a victim. Like her father. Like Volkov.  Products of their crucibles. She could forgive Volkov what he did. Forgive Ori.  Forgive Gavin any sin he’d ever committed and here she was prepared to put a bullet into this tortured girl simply because she was the recipient of the pain that the young woman inflicted upon the world?  

Logically it made sense.  And yet, her guts twisted as she thought of Will’s smile, of his son growing up without a father.  Aurora ran to the toilet and emptied her stomach of the small bit of dinner and tea she’d consumed, weeping in spite of herself.  She wanted to say it was because of the baby… but the truth was, she felt like she was choosing between Will and Tara.

Family.

Her father’s words echoed in her head.  She wasn’t sure if she was using him as an excuse to overlook Will and save Tara’s heart from pain or if she was tormenting herself - punishing herself with her father’s own voice, the memory of his last words to her.  Maybe it was both. She couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever though, choices had to be made, a butcher would need to be paid his bill.