School Bullies, Meet My 109 Big Sisters Chapter 14
Five years later, I met my soulmate, Caterina Leone.
She was a Forpol officer and had once fought alongside Elena while tracking down the Scorpio Organization. She admired my resilience, but what earned her deepest respect were the 109 sisters who raised me.
When she came to meet the family for the first time, my sisters put on a spread that filled ten tables. They grilled her like they were interrogating a criminal, digging all the way back through 18 generations of her
ancestry.
Caterina survived it all.
Facing 109 pairs of scrutinizing eyes, she said just one thing. “I will love Dante with everything I have for
the rest of my life-just like all of you.”
Every woman in the room had her eyes go red in an instant.
The wedding was held on Vittoria’s private island.
The red carpet was long. My 109 sisters lined up, each taking their turn to hold me.
At the very end, Sofia looked at Caterina and said, “Remember, he will always be our younger brother.”
As I exchanged rings with Caterina, a deafening roar came from the sky.
One hundred and nine helicopters formed up in the sky, spelling out, “Have a Blessed Marriage”.
When I was 32 years old, Caterina gave birth to twins-a boy and a girl, named Tiberio and Teodora
Bianco.
Outside the delivery room, 109 women packed the entire corridor.
The head nurse almost thought they’d come to kidnap the babies.
At the sip-and-see, we took a family portrait. All 109 of my sisters were so happy that they were grinning
like kids, and Sofia wrote the captions by hand.
When I was 40 years old, I buried the first of my sisters.
It was Noemi. She passed away peacefully from natural causes.
At the funeral, I delivered the eulogy.
“In her youth, she cut people down with a blade. Later in life, she helped fund 30 schools for
disadvantaged children. She always said it was the baby who smiled at her from his swaddle that made
her want to become a better person for the first time.”
Every year after that, we lost more of our family.
I reserved 110 plots in the family cemetery-109 for my sisters, and one for myself.
The last one to leave us was Sofia.
She was 100 years old when she passed.
She held my hand, her breath barely a whisper as she said, “Dante, let’s be brother and sisters again in
our next life.”
I nodded, my tears falling onto the back of her hand.
“Alright. Next time, I’ll be the big brother, and you’ll all be my younger sisters.”
Sofia smiled, then slowly closed her eyes.
The year I turned 60, the company my sisters had left behind-Aurora Group-had become one of the
largest charitable foundations in the world.
I would often go to orphanages to tell the children a story.
“Once upon a time, there was a baby boy abandoned at the doorstep of a mafia family. He let out a small cry of “sissy”, and from that moment on, he had 109 older sisters.”
The children would always ask, “And then what happened?”
I would gaze out toward the cemetery in the distance.
There stood 109 headstones, and on every single one, the epitaph was the same.
“They all became the kindest people in the world.”
As the setting sun dipped below the horizon, I turned and saw Tiberio and Teodora coming to pick me up,
with their own children in tow.
Behind their car followed 109 black sedans. They were the subordinates my sisters had left behind. Now,
they continued to guard this family.
I smiled and opened the car door.
