Their honeymoon was a short one. Marcello could not afford to be away from his business for longer than he had already, apparently. Not that this bothered Liliana in any way, she was eager to escape Belize and be surrounded by other people once again. Days of being alone with solely her idiot husband was driving her insane already.
After that first fight she had kept her distance from him - and he hadn't objected. He'd buried himself entirely in his work, spending the days on his laptop or shouting in a vicious spew of Italian into his phone as he paced the length of their villa. They had barely even spoken, other than for Marcello to tell her to pack her bags for they were leaving to New York today.
Where in New York, she didn't know. Liliana had no clue as to where the D'Onofrio's called home, or what she was to expect. Considering their wealth, she doubted it would be the modest comfort she was used to living in her aunt's small home. No, if she had to guess, she imaged the D'Onofrio's lived in lavish extravagance.
"Are you ready?" his gruff voice came from the doorway. For once his mobile wasn't in his hands, which were buried deep in his pockets, as he leaned against the doorway to their bedroom. His eyes stared dully into her own as she numbly zipped up her last bags. Her firm nod had Marcello standing straighter as he waited for her to reach his side and then he was slinging her bag over his own shoulder and taking her hand in his much larger, warm one.
Baffled, she allowed her husband to drag her along to the front door and out onto the beach. This was the most chivalrous he had been all week.
But before long her confusion was answered as Liliana caught sight of a pair of island staff waiting by a boat to take them back to the mainland. It was all an act. She had to play the part from here on out.
Liliana approached the boat with hesitance, stomach churning as she ignored Marcello's offer to help her on board. It was a small boat they were on, no real seating, leaving Liliana to stand by the side and clutch tightly onto the railing for dear life. She couldn't imagine anything being worse than the first ride out here but somehow being in the company of her husband surpassed all her expectations.
From here she could see the nearby villa across the water - the one her family had resided in. She never would have imagined that her aunt, grandfather and cousins would leave without saying goodbye, or checking that she was safe. But it was clear Liliana didn't know much of her family all that well. After all, her father had seemingly given her away without so much as a thought.
Just as the boats motor began to hum loudly and short whimper escaped Liliana's lips, to her own embarrassment. But it was quickly over shadowed by the startled yelp that escaped when Marcello trapped her against the rail - his chest pressed tightly to her back and his two muscular arms boxing her in. She held her breath as she felt the lightest graze of his nose tickle down the length of her neck and back up again until his lips settled by the shell of her ear. The dance of his hot breath blowing against her sent a shiver through Liliana's body.
"I understand you may be missing your family. Don't fret; I will allow them to visit once you've settled," he said, voice too low for anyone else to hear above the engine of the boat.
Her cheeks flushed, and she tried terribly to swallow back the anger that surged within her.
"How kind of you, to allow my family to visit," she said laughing sharply, the sarcasm in her words unavoidable. "How gracious of you to seize control of when and where I can see my very small family, the only people whom I am close with."
As they surged across the sea towards the mainland, the wind whipped viscously through her hair, biting icily at her cheeks, serving well to drown out her poisoned words. But Marcello could hear her perfectly, as was evident by the way his body tensed around her - a cage to keep her in place.
"Your family is not so small," he uttered cruelly. "You're a part of my family now."
When she turned in his arms to spear him with her narrowed gaze, he merely stared right back at her with an impassive expression.
"And you think that excuses you from controlling when I can and cannot see my aunt, cousins, grandfather and father?"
"You're at odds with Antonio now anyway, aren't you? It's no loss if you don't see him for a while."
Arrogant. An infuriating, arrogant bastard.
Liliana refrained from shouting the words aloud, her fingers curled into tight fists at her sides as she raised her chin and stared right into his dark eyes with a sneer curled on her lip.
She didn't dare speak to him, knowing she would be unable from saying anything but nastiness and fearing and having the good sense to fear his fury because of it. So she remained in tight lipped silence, schooling her angered expression and barely bothered to glance at him for the remainder of their entire journey to New York.
It wasn't until they were at last stepping off of Marcello's private plane that he finally broke his own silence.
"Try to keep your fury to yourself," Marcello said beneath his breath as he took her arm and led her to the tarmac in what she assumed was meant to appear as an intimate gesture between two newly-weds. "We wouldn't want anyone to realise how much you already despise me."
Liliana scoffed but otherwise made no sound of response. In the near distance she could see a sleek black Audi awaiting them, and she recognised Sebastiano's figure beside it.
As they approached, she turned to offer Marcello a bitter smile, teeth clenched tight.
"You look happy," Sebastiano said by way of greeting. His eyes were hidden by dark shades but Liliana was all too aware of the tightness of his mouth, and the tension in his jaw. "Did you both enjoy your honeymoon?"
"It was fine," Marcello said, his tone sharper than it needed to be. His hand pressed against the small of her back, guiding towards the car. Sebastiano only stared at his son, lips pressed together tightly, before he arched his neck towards her.
"And you, Liliana, what did you make of it?"
She tried her hardest not to squirm under his attention, steeling her spine as if she didn't want to cower away every single time this man merely looked at her.
"It was good." She was unable to muster any sort of enthusiasm, but attempted a small smile, hoping it would be enough. Sebastiano after all, already knew this marriage was fake. He'd hardly expect anything more from her.
She was nudged into the back-seat by Marcello, forced to look up at Sebastiano to maintain eye contact - which was difficult giving his sunglasses. She felt positively weak from down here.
When Sebastiano nodded, seeming somewhat satisfied with her answer, Marcello rudely slammed the door shut - no doubt to put an end to his father's interrogation. Liliana couldn't help but feel relieved. She feared any minute longer, her composure would crack, and she would be cursing everything wrong with Marcello.
She was sure that wouldn't be to Sebastiano's satisfaction.
Liliana found herself alone in the car for longer that she would have thought, all too aware of the sound of raised voices from outside. And when the men joined her, they were both tense and scowling - looking all too much like father and son.
For the entirety of the car ride, Liliana remained stiff in her seat, trying her best to ignore the tension that clung to both Sebastiano and Marcello like a second skin. Marcello's glare was as punishing as ever - only this time it wasn't directed towards her.
"How long is the drive?" Liliana said, her voice quiet but clear in the silence of the car. From beside her Marcello was sulking as he stared out of the window, his fingers tapping again and again against the door.
"Only twenty more minutes," Sebastiano said from the drivers seat, when it was clear Marcello wasn't going to answer. His sunglasses were gone now, and his dark eyes connected with hers in the mirror. "You must be eager to get settled in, I suppose?"
Her polite smile was forced and she only nodded in reply. There was a lump building in her throat and she was sure her voice would break if she tried to speak. Twenty minutes and she would be in her marital home. Liliana was used to her aunt's modest house, or her father's large, but not extravagance home. She had no doubts as to how grand the D'Onofrio's home would be. They were filthy rich, and from what she had seen of them so far - their tailored suits, the private plane, the Audi - they were used to an extravagance she was not.
The only aspect of her life that gave away her families wealthy status, was her expensive education. Both her schools in America and in Italy had been the best, and she'd had numerous tutors.
True to Sebastiano's word, it was just under twenty minutes that the car approached a set of large metal gates surrounded by various security. Inside the property they drove up a long driveway that led to a huge neoclassical style house. Huge, black framed arched windows stood out against white brick. The house had a flat roof and was was made up of decorative columns carved into the stone. It looked far more elegant than any of the houses she remembered in America.
The car rolled to a gentle stop and Liliana was quick to step out, taking a moment to stare in awe at the grand home. She couldn't begin to guess how many rooms there were, from the number of windows alone she knew there were more than enough to house the entirety of the D'Onofrio family.
It was beautiful, she thought almost bitterly.
Wide stone steps led up from the drive to the front door, framed by tall squared hedges and numerous trees and bushes, and a large lawn that spanned out behind her.
"Do you approve of your new home?" Sebastiano laid a heavy hand on her shoulder and she did her best not to flinch. Again she only offered him a tight-lipped smile and a hurried nod.
As Sebastiano disappeared into the house, Liliana remained where she was. She didn't know why she had yet to move, why she hadn't followed her father-in-law inside. It wasn't like she could run away; she would have to go in eventually. Prolonging that fate was useless at this point.
"Are you going inside?" Marcello's gruff voice beside her jolted her from her thoughts. He eyed her impatiently, huffing when she didn't respond. "I have work to do."
Liliana's expression soured as she said, "Am I stopping you?"
She stalked over to the trunk of the car, grabbing what little luggage she had. Before she could even start walking towards the house, Marcello was there with a heavy arm across her shoulder, guiding her inside. She could barely keep up with his large strides, stumbled slightly.
"I didn't realise I needed to be escorted inside," she snapped under her breath.
"Who knows what kind of trouble you'll get into if I leave you out here with the car."
Liliana scoffed. Did he think she would just impulsively drive off? She wasn't an idiot, she knew that by herself and without any sort of plan, she'd barely make it five minutes down the road before they caught up to her.
She yanked her arm free and pushed past him roughly, but when she found herself stood in the foyer of the house, Liliana realised she had absolutely no idea where to go from there.
"Our room is this way," Marcello called out to her with a smirk as he took off quickly towards the wide staircase.
"Our room?" She asked with a frown, hurrying to catch up with him. Under her breath she uttered sharply, "Surely there are enough rooms in this place that we don't have to share?"
"And have my staff knowing my marriage is a sham?" he said stiffly with a raised brow, looking wholly unimpressed with her suggestion. "No, you're staying with me."
***
Marcello was quick to leave her alone. He hadn't bothered to show her around the house, he hadn't even stayed long enough for her to unpack a single thing before he was stalking out of the room muttering something under his breath. She had only managed to catch the words, 'incompetent idiots', before he was out the door.
Well, it was only 6pm and there was no way Liliana was going to retire to bed so early. And she certainly wasn't going to keep herself holed up in the bedroom waiting for Marcello to return like some demure housewife with no other purpose than to serve her husband.
No more than five minutes of Liliana wandering the house, did she run into the youngest D'Onofrio brother. While Angelo had done nothing other than irritate her since meeting him, she found after so much time alone with Marcello, he was a welcome difference to her husband.
"How was it? Was your honeymoon everything you dreamed it would be? Did Marcello treat you right?" The dark haired Italian-American asked with a wry grin, as if the very notion of Marcello 'treating her right' was unfathomable.
Liliana couldn't stop the purse of her lips. It seemed that was all Angelo needed in confirmation as he burst into laughter not a second later.
"I take it he was his usual brutish self then," he mused.
"My honeymoon was everything I had ever hoped for and more," she said dryly, folding her arms across the chest rather defensively as she eyed the youngest D'Onofrio - though she supposed she was now the youngest D'Onofrio.
"Oh how I've missed your wit," Angelo laughed. "I suppose you're looking for the kitchen? I doubt Marcello would have taken the time to feed you at all today."
'Feed you', she noted, as if she were some pet. Her eyes narrowed a fraction.
"Marcello isn't one for breakfast. He's usually already working away by then; not that I can blame him with his position." Angelo looped his arm with hers, allowing his eyes to languidly scan the length of her as he began leading her in what she assumed was the direction of the kitchen. "We wouldn't want you to lose that gorgeous figure though."
Was this Angelo's so called attempts at winning her over? Or was he merely just a flirt?
Either way, she didn't appreciate being leered at like a piece of meat.
A short pinch to Angelo's eyes had him stepping away from her with a curse. She only offered him a sweet smile and muttered, "You should probably keep your hands off me as your brothers wife, don't you think?"
Almost instantly that insufferable smirk was plastered across his face again as he looked at her as if she was the most entertaining thing he'd seen all year. He held up his hands in faux surrender, not seeming all the apologetic.
"Hands to myself from now on, I swear." He cleared his throat, eyes shifting towards the open doorway before them. "After you."
Liliana was suddenly face to face with a sullen looking tall blonde in a yellow silk dress. She was leaning against the kitchen counter as she sipped on a pink drink. Emerald eyes stood out against her pale face, eyes so similar to that of Angelo and Giovanni. Their mother; Gabriella D'Onofrio.
Gabriella paid them no notice as Liliana and Angelo stepped into the kitchen, attention centred on a magazine spread out across the kitchen table.
"Angelo," a smooth voice greeted. "You know your father's rules. No whores in the house." Gabriella's strong New York accent hit her hard, stronger than any of the D'Onofrio's. After three years in Italy, it had been a while since she had heard an accent like that. The D'Onofrio's accents seemed so weak in comparison.
Liliana didn't flinch against the insult that had just been flung her way. She wouldn't give her the satisfaction. But it didn't stop the sinking feeling in her gut. She hadn't spoken on word to Gabriella, and already she had been categorised as a whore.
Did she look like a fucking whore?
"Mamma," Angelo groaned, looking mortified as a pink hue stained his cheeks. "This is Liliana, Marcello's wife."
That had Gabriella finally glancing up towards them. The slim blonde straightened up, and looked at Liliana with a disapproving purse of her lips.
Liliana was sure to keep her mouth shut, for she knew as soon as she opened it a slew of cursed would be sure to follow. It wasn't often she let someone speak to her and look at her with such disrespect without confrontation. But Liliana was adamant she was not going to start a fight with her mother-in-law within the first few minutes of meeting.
She steeled herself, waiting for enough sharp verbal jab, but it never came. Gabriella merely turned on her heels and left the kitchen without another word.
"I apologise for my mom, she-" he sighed, shaking his head as he stared towards the doorway through which Gabriella had just left. "She doesn't seem to like you."
"Oh really?" Liliana crooned sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed. Is there something I've done to offend her? Or is she like that with everyone?"
Angelo hesitated before he said with a sharp edge to his words, "Not you. Someone else."
Liliana waited for an explanation but it never came. His eyes swept away, avoiding hers as he murmured his goodbye and promptly left her entirely alone.
If she wasn't trying to recover from the emotional whiplash that was this whole exchange, she might have called after him. One moment he was flirting with her, and the next he could barely meet her eyes. Not to mention whatever just happened with his mother.
If she thought of it any longer, she was surely going to give herself a headache.
***
Marcello glared at phone in the centre of his desk as the voice of Anton Ansari - his Consigliere - filled his office. Giovanni - his underboss - sat opposed with an equally dark expression on his face.
Marcello had spent the last hour in here, listening to the numerous issues that had befalling his family while he had been away on his honeymoon. Various friends of theirs had been hesitant to pay this weeks fee for the protection Marcello offered them and their businesses. Rumour had spread that Marcello had lost his seat at the top in the last week and a half following his absence from New York.
"Send some of the boys to pay them a visit tomorrow morning," Marcello said sharply, nodding towards the door to dismiss his brother. "Remind them what happens, when they are no longer under our protection."
Giovanni nodded and left.
"Anton," Marcello sighed. "How much longer are you in Qatar. You're no good to me over there."
Anton Ansari, his longest friend and most trusted advisor, had been in Qatar dealing with family matters for longer than Marcello liked. He needed his Consigliere here, especially now that these damned bodies kept appearing, all with threats attached. Giovanni and Angelo had failed to find the culprit while Marcello had been stuck on his honeymoon, and Marcello's patience was wearing thin.
"You know I'll return if you need me."
"A few more weeks," Marcello grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "A few more weeks over there. But as soon as I call you'll be on the first flight over."
Marcello ended the call just as Angelo appeared at his door, barging into the room as if it were his. He glared at Angelo as his brother made himself comfortable in the chair Giovanni had not long since vacated.
"Is there a reason you are disturbing me?" Marcello drawled. Instead of seeming intimidated, his brother seemed only amused, like every other time Marcello had tried a stern hand. Marcello was far too lenient with him, but one of these days Angelo would push too far and Marcello would have no choice but to discipline him.
"Liliana met Mamma."
Marcello visibly winced. He could only imagine how badly that went.
With one hand rubbing across his rough jaw, he dared to ask, "Who was least scathed?" His other hand curled into a fist. What a disaster it would be if on her first day here, Liliana was already planning her escape. Not that she would succeed of course, but he certainly didn't need the stress.
"Liliana didn't say a word," Angelo informed, his eyebrows suddenly drawing together. "Unfortunately Mamma said more than enough."
Marcello didn't comment. He never did when the conversation turned to Gabriella.
Angelo sighed. "She really doesn't do herself any favour sometimes. It's hard to stick up for her when each day her argument grows weaker."
"So don't stick up for her," was Marcello's short response. Angelo leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he shot Marcello a dubious expression.
"She's my mother Marcello, I have to be on her side."
"Even when it goes against father's?" Angelo appeared agitated by the question. He shot to his feet, stretching out his long legs. Marcello noted the tick in his jaw to the tension creeping into Angelo's body. He always had been a mamma's boy growing up, it shouldn't be a surprise that his allegiance continued to lie there. "You know if she carries on the way she is father's not going to stand for it. And if she continues to insult my wife I'm going to step in."
Angelo scoffed, ran a hand through his messy hair and shot a patronizing smile towards his eldest brother. "Of course you'd jump at the chance to humiliate Mamma."
"Don't!" Marcello snapped, slamming his palm against his desk as he shot to his feet, his nostrils flaring, his face hot. "Don't you dare ridicule me in my own office Angelo. You know as well as I do that that woman deserves everything coming to her. I am sick and tired of your disrespect and your higher than life attitude!"
Angelo flinched, but his fear wasn't enough to wipe the scowl from his face.
"Get out," Marcello said through gritted teeth. He couldn't look at Angelo right now, not without wanting to hit him. Marcello prided himself on his composure when dealing with competitors but when it came to family disputes all his self-possession incinerated.
The soft click of the door shutting barely reached his ears, the sound drowned out by the pulsing, pumping of blood rushing past his ears.
Marcello was left alone in his office but he was drowning in the overwhelming company that was his temper.
And... the plot thickens.
Q. Is Gabriella the wicked mother-in-law or is she just misunderstood?