Page 1 of Sinister

Chapter one

My parents were murdered in front of me when I was five. They were casualties of the ties they held to the prominent and powerful mafia family, the Vitiello’s. You see, my papa was Papa. V.’s consigliere. His eyes and ears. His body count. As far back as I can remember, our family was tied to the Vitiello Kingdom. We were family in a sense. We vacationed together back in the motherland. Spent every Christmas, Easter, birthday, 4 th of July together, and every other celebration you can think of. They were our non-blood relatives. My mom, Mama V., and Papa V.’s two sisters were best friends, they spent nearly every day together. Until it all ended in bloodshed and I was left with no one.

I remember sitting on the plush leather sofa, a firm hand placed on both of my shoulders to keep me still, to ensure I didn’t run like the little baby they thought I was. I distinctly remember not being able to tear my eyes away from the man impeccably dressed in a sharp suit with a black balaclava covering his head. He was so casual yet calculated in the way he moved about our lounge room. It almost seemed as though he had been here before, invited in as a friend. From a small five year old’s perspective, he looked huge as he stood over my mom and held the gun to her head. The pop of the gun was something I never forgot. It reminded me of the fireworks at our 4th of July parties held at the lake house. Only this time the splatter of my mom’s blood was the only thing that made a spectacular mess across the wall behind her.

My papa was next. He didn’t even try to struggle out of the cable ties that bound his wrists behind his back. He simply stared at me and nodded once before the bullet hole in his head dribbled blood over his handsome face.

I didn’t move and I didn’t give the men the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I’d sat straighter on that sofa just like my papa would have wanted me to. I’d remember his small nod of assurance until the day I died and I knew he meant for me to be as strong and brave as him.

I watched the man in the black balaclava turn and eye me as I sat up straighter, ready for the bullet to pierce through my skull. His bright blue eyes reminded me of the sea on a hot Summer’s day. They looked funny surrounded by the dark material of his mask. He strode toward me and indicated for the man holding me in place to move before he squatted down in front of me.

“Friend of foe?” He’d said in a thick Italian accent. I was too afraid to speak in case my voice gave away that I was terrified of him.

He placed his gun to my temple and his eyes crinkled at the outer edges. I knew he was secretly smiling at me behind that mask. I swallowed hard as my heart thudded in my chest and threatened to burst through my ribs. Our eyes were locked on to each other for what felt like a lifetime when the click of the retriever made me flinch. I waited for something my childlike brain should never have needed to imagine. My death. When I realized I was still alive I nearly choked out a cry. I felt the warmth of my pee as it saturated my skirt and the expensive leather. I wanted to bury myself in my mom’s limp arms, but instead, I stared back at the man before me until he removed the tip of the gun from the side of my head.

“Friend,” he had said as he placed his pointer and middle finger on the material against his lips and then pressed the two fingers against my mouth, pushing them firmly against my quivering lips.

He stood up and stared down at me, the splatters of my mom and papa’s blood on his nice suit. I glanced up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say or do something. But he ignored me after that. He indicated for his men to follow him out of my house and they left me with the bodies of my dead parents.

So, this is how I became the adopted daughter of the Vitiello’s. They had promised my parents they would look after me if anything were ever to happen, and they certainly kept their word. I had everything a girl could imagine and then some. I never asked for anything, but they kept showering me with material things out of guilt I guess. I was never made to feel like I wasn’t part of the family and I was treated like their daughter. But, it wasn’t the same warm fuzzy feeling your real family made you feel. I’d had the best education money could buy at an elusive all girls catholic school far away from the all boys catholic school my psycho adoptive brother and his two best friends had attended.

I was the sibling he never wanted. My adoption disrupted his perfect, selfish, only child, first five years of life. We had spent all our holidays and summers together prior to me being adopted and he spent those years hating me the entire time. When I moved in, let’s just say, the hatred only intensified.

Chapter two

Sinisa

Opening her door, I hear her soft breaths as she sleeps deeply, unconscious from the drugs I slipped into her drink at dinner. Sliding through the small gap and closing the door behind me, I move to stand at the end of her bed, watching her.

This used to be enough when we were thirteen. I used to sneak into her room at least once a week when we were both home from school and watch her sleeping peacefully, not daring to touch her at first. As the years wore on, my confidence in the pills I spiked her drink with grew. I explored her soft skin, touching her inner thighs, her stomach and finally working up the courage to brush my fingertips over the swells of her breasts.

She never sleeps with anything on underneath her pajama shorts and loose t-shirt unless she has her period. Blood never bothers me, and her period never stops me from touching her and tasting her.

She takes in a staggering breath, and I freeze, waiting for her to move again. She doesn’t. I’ve been in here every night this week, unable to satiate my need to taste her. They always say the forbidden fruit is the sweetest. And they’re not fucking wrong. Her pussy tastes like what I imagine heaven would taste like. Sins atoned and the ripe juicy fruit ready for the picking.

If anyone knew I did this to her, my father would ensure she ceased to exist and the memory of her would be wiped from all. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing really. If she wasn’t here, easy access for me, I’d probably turn my sick obsession to someone else. Once we go away for college, it will be easier to not think about her delicious pussy and the way it squirts at me when I feast on it.

My cock hardens at just the thought of tasting her, pressing against my boxers painfully. Moving so I’m near her nightstand, I lean over and run my fingers along her soft mouth. Pushing my thumb into her parted lips, I caress her tongue. Reflexively she tries to swallow around my thumb. The sensation mimics a sucking motion and it drives me wild.

Removing my thumb, I run it over her chin and trail it down her throat until I’m between her breasts. I cup one in my hand and knead it, feeling the swell of her chest as she responds to my touch. Her breath hitches again and I know she’s enjoying this subconsciously.

I grab the hem of her t-shirt and pull it up. Her large breasts are exposed, her nipples hard and begging me to touch them. Leaning down, I run my tongue over the left one, circling the piercing she has, and biting gently. Afraid if I exert too much pain on her, she may awaken.

Her huge tits move with her breathing as though they’re pleading with me to fuck them. I pull my cock out of my boxers and grab her hand, wrapping her fingers around my hard shaft, moving her hand up and down. The feeling is euphoric. I watch her serene face, imagining she’s doing this willingly, begging to take my cock in her mouth.

Groaning, I place her hand back on her stomach and move to the foot of her bed, unable to wait any longer. I grip her boxers and drag them down her legs, throwing them aside. Climbing up onto the bed, I run my hands up and down her thighs, imagining them wrapped around my head as I make her come undone.

I spread her legs and open her up to me, her sweet scent invades my senses. I run my fingertips along her thigh until I come in contact with her bare pussy, teasing her entrance. Inserting one finger, her tight cunt clenches around the sudden invasion and I imagine what it would feel like ramming my cock into her.

Massaging her with my finger, I lower myself and lick her slick pussy, teasing it with my tongue. I remove my finger and spread her lips, running my finger up and down her folds, touching, exploring her already wet pussy. I’ve been eating her out for months now, it’s so addictive, only she has no fucking clue I’m doing this to her and that makes it all the more pleasurable.

I lower my mouth to her and suck her clit between my lips, flicking it with my tongue upwards and then downwards. I know exactly what her cunt wants and I can make her come undone within seconds. But tonight I’ll savor the taste and take my time, exploring and memorizing every detail.

She moans and it makes my cock jump to attention. Glancing up, her eyebrows are drawn together like she’s in pain, only I know it’s not pain but the feeling of being on the brink of cuming.

Inserting two fingers and pumping them in and out, her pussy clenches as I press upward hitting her sweet spot. I continue to suck and lick on her clit until it swells against my lips and I know she’s so fucking close. Her breathing quickens and her moans become louder as I work her up to explode around me.

“Rome,” she chokes out as her thighs shake uncontrollably and her back arches off the bed.

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