[RE-WRITTEN]
That night, Marcello didn't return to their bedroom. She only knew he had gone to bed at 3am, by the sound of the shower running in the empty bedroom next door. After their last conversation, it wasn't a surprise he had resorted to sleeping in another bedroom once again, just like the beginning of their marriage. It wasn't until an hour later, when no more sounds were heard from the bedroom, that Liliana gathered the courage to finally put her plan into action.
With a bag clutched tightly at her side, Liliana tip-toed through the D'Onofrio manor, praying that she would not run into anyone else. It was a risky move, considering she could never be sure just how late the other D'Onofrio brothers were usually awake. The task was made harder by the furious pounding of her heart in her chest, and ragged breaths as she snuck through the manor like an intruder, all too aware of the effects of a real intruder. She'd had great difficulty already, walking through the house after the attack, but now, in the dark, such a task seemed almost impossibly.
By the time she had made it to the front doors of the manor, Liliana's head was spinning, and her entire body felt clammy with sweat. Outside, the cool air of the night was a welcome relief, and she savoured the silence, inhaling deeply and trying desperately to calm her heart.
Liliana knew, if she had any hopes of actually escaping the manor, she could not do it alone. Sophia had seemed the only possible option, but Liliana had not until now considered just how she would escape the property amongst the manors guards. So, it was with great surprise that she met the eyes of Alessandro Barbato, wrapped in his thick coat and scarf, waiting for her outside of a luxurious black town car with a smirk playing on the corner of his thin lips.
"Liliana," he greeted in his raspy voice, holding open the door to the car for her.
Of course, Barbato had been granted access to come and go from the property as he pleased. He was the only one that would potentially be able to get through the security at the gate and leave again without alerting Marcello before she could make her escape.
Inside the car, a frowning Sophia greeted her. She reached out to Liliana immediately, grasping her hand and offering a comforting squeeze as she rushed to apologise, "I'm so sorry I had to get my uncle involved, but I didn't know how else to get you out. You didn't get caught did you?"
Sophia glanced behind her, through the open door, as if expecting Marcello to come storming out of the house any minute now.
"No, no," Liliana assured, her heart still hammering away in her chest as she too glanced back towards the house. She found it a little easier to breath now, freed from their captivity, even if this freedom was only temporary. "I take it we're not going to your apartment?"
Barbato entered the car behind her, slowly sinking into the leather seat. Liliana was left a little in disbelief as the car drove down the long driveway without interruption.
"I didn't think it was the safest idea," Barbato acknowledged, coughing into his hand as he clicked his seatbelt into place with the other. "My home is guarded more securely and I'd feel better if the two of you were kept safe there instead of my brother's home, or Sophia's own apartment." He smiled and patted Liliana on the knee lightly. "I take it my nipote has done something wrong for you to be running away in the dead of the night?"
Liliana's answering smile was forced. "I just had to get some time away from that house."
She was unwilling to reveal anything further. As grateful as she was to Sophia and Barbato in this instance, she would not reveal every detail of her marriage to them. Marcello, she was certain, would not take kindly to such a betrayal. Considering the tumultuous relationship between Marcello and his grandfather, if she wished to confess anything at all, it would be to Sophia only, and only if she could ensure Sophia would keep her silence on the matter.
Barbato's expression didn't shift at her evasion of his question. He nodded once, before leaning back and glancing out the window beside him, as if trying to offer her and Sophia some privacy.
Sophia cleared her throat, drawing Liliana's attention. "I thought it would be best if we stayed in the same room tonight; if you don't want to be alone, that is."
Liliana found herself praying that Sophia could indeed be someone to trust. She was desperate to have that kind of bond with someone, to have someone she could truly call a friend at this time in her life when it was clearly needed. But, only time would tell.
It was late when they arrived at Barbato's home. Liliana wasn't sure how long they had driven for, as she had fallen asleep towards the start of the drive. When she was awoken, they were parked outside a large mansion. It was far larger than the D'Onofrio home, and seemed older in it's design. Unlike the D'Onofrio's modern neoclassical style home, Barbato's mansion, of Châteauesque architecture, was made of gothic spires, huge chimneys, and steep pointed roofs. This was a property that was passed down throughout generations; it emulated the strength of Barbato's legacy, while the D'Onofrio manor did nothing but highlight their wealth.
She would have admired the mansion for longer, if she were not still on the cusp of sleep, desperate to find a bed and rest. Sophia was no better than Liliana, eyes heavy and feet dragging across the floor with lost energy. By the time they had found a room to sleep in the two girls were quickly buried under the thick duvet of a king sized bed, succumbing with ease to the persuasions of sleep.
***
Liliana struggled to open her eyes that morning, and her head felt heavy and clouded with the still lingering effects of too little sleep. She wanted to wake up, but the sound of an alarm blaring somewhere in the room prevented such. Liliana groaned, and shifted in the bed, until Sophia was also roused awake.
"Gosh, you scared me," Sophia laughed quickly, her voice still thick with sleep. She wiped at the sleep from her eyes, yawning, before reaching out to grab the phone on her side of the bed and silencing the alarm. Still seeming only half away, she groaned, "I forgot where I was for a second. What time is it, why is there even an alarm on my damn phone?"
"Too early," Liliana could only groan back. "I honestly can't believe I've here right now. I can't believe I got out so easily."
Sophia hummed beside her, her legs still tangled in the bed sheets as she continued to lie on her side, face buried half into the pillow. "I always assumed Mercello would be a light sleeper. Actually, I can't imagine a man like that ever sleeping."
"We weren't in the same room last night."
Sophia glanced towards her, frowning. "You don't share a room?"
Liliana hadn't expected for Sophia to sound so surprised. She had already guessed that Liliana's marriage had been forced, and any perceived romance between them to be fake.
"We do usually but," Liliana sighed, pursing her lips. "Not after yesterday."
Once again, Liliana didn't expand on that. She wouldn't go into detail with Sophia about what she had discovered. She didn't think she could stand to talk about her mother's death right now, with anyone.
"I don't know very much at all about your relationship with him, about how much you were forced to-" Sophia cut herself off, looking pained. "Have you two slept together?"
Liliana gulped, and was barely able to meet Sophia's eyes. Her reply was sharper than intended, bitterness poisoning her tone as a scowl twisted at her mouth. "Yes. But... I chose to. I wasn't pressured or forced into it."
Sophia sighed, her relief evident. "And you regret it?"
A gentle heat was creeping up Liliana's neck and into her cheeks. "I don't. But I can't help the part of me that see's it as an act of surrender, of giving in to this marriage."
"Did he give any indication to something like that?" Sophia's words were sharp, but her tense shoulders slumped when Liliana quickly shook her head.
"Do you think I'm being too harsh?" she whispered, fingers rising to her jaw to tug on the loose strands of hair that tickled her skin. She wetted her dry lips with the tip of her tongue, swallowing harshly. Was it possible that she was judging Mercello too much in her strive for independence?
"Do you think you're being too hard?"
"No," Liliana answered honestly. "Small moments of kindness from him can never outweigh the inherent issues of our relationship. I didn't want this marriage, and I can never forget who he is, and the power he holds over me, the control he has over my life."
"Liliana," Sophia pressed, leaning forward to grasp her hands, eyes wide and earnest as they connected with hers. "You're not obligated to give him anything that you don't want to. You're here now, you're safe. It's okay to want more from him, to expect more. No one should have that kind of control over you. You deserve to have a healthy relationship without this weird power imbalance, and without the threat of your life looming over you every time you disagree with him."
"I don't know what to do," Liliana confessed, hating the way her voice shook and her lower lip wobbled under the threat of oncoming tears. "He's so controlling. I understand the need for guards, but I'm not allowed anywhere without one of his brothers, and I hardly have the freedom to go where I want. I'm so lonely, and so bored all of the time. He never would have agreed to me staying here with you for even a night. And the lies... I'm not sure I can forgive them."
"You can stay here for as long as you want," Sophia assured. "I don't want you to feel pressured to return to him, if it's not what you really want, okay? You can stay here, with me, and take some time to think about your future, and the possibilities. I know you said no to it before, but if you wanted to, you could enrol at my college, or even attend night or online classes. It might give you a sense of purpose, and it would be a great way to socialise."
"I don't even know what I would study," Liliana shrugged, aware of the pathetic pout on her lips.
"What would you have done, had you gone to college in Italy?"
"Business or accounting, most likely, something that would be useful to the family business." It was unlikely her grandfather would have given her permission for much else.
"And if you didn't have to work for your family, if you could have done anything?" Sophia pressed.
"I don't know," Liliana shrugged again, feeling lost. "I really like architecture. It's a far too demanding field for me to ever consider going into it as a career, but I don't know," she sighed. "I enjoyed it at school and I think I'd like to take some more classes on it."
"That's great!" Sophia stressed, a wide grin stretching across her mouth. "Even if you don't do that, it's good to think of your future, to truly consider everything you might want to do given the chance. It's not fair for your life to be so restricted because of who you're related to, and who you are married to."
Liliana sighed, unable to stop herself from saying, "That's all great in theory, but I don't think you realise just how hard it is to live a life like this, in my position. Our families may be similar, but our upbringings are clearly vastly different. I'm no so naïve to think that I can escape Marcello forever. I will have to return to him." When the full weight of her own words registered with Liliana, tears sprung to her eyes.
"Oh fuck," Liliana groaned, turned to press her face into her pillow. "What have I done? I've been pushing things for so long now, I've lost sight of just how powerful Marcello is."
"Liliana," Sophia said, voice firm. Sophia grabbed Liliana's shoulder and shook her gently until Liliana finally met her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I will not let anything bad happen to you. Nor will my uncle. We are here for you, we will protect you. I promise. And if you need to talk to me about anything to vent, and I mean anything, you can; including the night of the break in or whatever is happening with Marcello. Whatever is said between us, will remain between us."
Liliana couldn't stop crying. She had never thought she would meet someone like Sophia, especially not after her marriage to Marcello. Other than her aunt, she had had very few people to support her so fiercely. Her cousins loved her, and cared for her, but they were men of the mafia and their support and encouragement could only lend so far - all they knew were the rules and restrictions of their lives. Roderigo had been enough proof of that - he had come to 'save' her, and yet his only plan had been more violence, to kill Sebastiano as if that would have helped her situation and not hindered it. If Marcello had been a different man, just her awareness of such a plan could have had her killed. They were truly unaware to the full extent of damage mafia life had on a woman, and the rules they had to abide by if they wished to remain healthy and alive.
"I've not spoken to anyone about what happened that night, not really, not in detail. Marcello knows bits and has a vague idea of what happened but..." Liliana swallowed, struggling to get her words out.
Sophia's hand found hers again, a comforting touch that brought a watering smile to Liliana's lips. "You don't have to do this now. Don't think that I'm pressuring you to tell me."
"No, it's fine," Liliana said, shaking her head. "I need to talk to someone about it, I need to get it off my chest. I - I was alone when the break in happened, everyone else had left the manor. I stepped out into the hallway, on my way to the kitchen. I heard him, before anything else. Then I was hit-" Liliana's hand found it's way to the back of her head, where the skin was still tender if she touched it too hard. "I couldn't understand what had happened at first, all I knew was my head her, and there was glass all around me. But I didn't give him a chance to hit me again. I- I killed him."
Liliana released a shaky breath, her arms winding around her waist, hugging herself as she whispered, "Every time I tried to tell Marcello what happened my chest would tighten so much it physically hurt. Every time I walk through that hallway it feels as if I can't breathe and bile rises to the back of my throat. I don't know how to exist in that house anymore, I don't know how I'm supposed to go on living there as if I didn't kill someone."
Even now, recounting everything to Sophia, a sour taste tainted her tongue and her breaths became laboured. She hated the way she reacted to the memories of that night. She just wanted to forget it all.
It grew silent between them until Sophia's phone buzzed with life. They both stared at the object on the bedside table blankly until it became apparent whoever was calling was not about to give up, and Sophia reached for it. Sophia said nothing as she looked at the screen, eyebrows furrowing and her shoulders tensing considerably.
"Who is it?" Liliana murmured gently, leaning closer to her friend as anxiety twisted in her gut. Sophia didn't respond at first, tugging her lower lip between her teeth as she sat frozen, watching her screen light up once again, but with a text this time.
"What? Um, yeah." She cleared her throat, eyes darting between her phone and Liliana. "Giovanni's texted me. They know you're gone. Do you want me to ignore it?"
It made sense that the D'Onofrio's would know she was here with Sophia. After all, who else in America could Liliana have contacted? But the confirmation of such, immediately put Liliana on edge.
"No, it's okay, tell him where I am. They can't force me to leave, not if your uncle is here."
Liliana wasn't entirely sure if she believed herself. Barbato was awfully powerful, if the news articles she had read since his release were correct. But there was no telling how far Marcello would go to get her back, and Liliana was worried she would only put Sophia and Barbato at risk by being here. Once again, Liliana was left to question her decisions; her escape from the manor had been impulsive, and she truly had not stopped to consider the consequences until now.
Despite having Liliana's permission, Sophia hesitated, her thumbs hovering over the keypad of her lit up screen.
"Do you want me to do it instead?" Liliana offered but Sophia was quick to reject the help. A moment later the phone was discarded a meter away, though Sophia's gaze still remained fixed on it.
Liliana wondered when the last time was that Sophia and Giovanni had shared a conversation. She still knew nothing about their past relationship, though the tension between the two was obvious enough to indicate that whatever relationship they'd had, it had not ended well.
Unsurprisingly it was only an hour later that the raised voices of men disturbed them from their time together. Sophia had suggested breakfast in the bed, and Liliana was thankful. She still felt so tired and hadn't wanted to face Barbato so early in the morning. She knew she should still be sleeping, after what little sleep she had managed in the early hours of this morning. She was terrified of Marcello's reaction to her disappearance and the sound of his voice laden with anger as she sipped her morning tea had her frozen in the bed.
Sophia shot her a sideways glance as the shouts grew louder until she couldn't stay silent any longer. Looking uncomfortable, Sophia said, "I should go down there and help my uncle."
Sophia quickly changed into the summer dress she had been wearing yesterday, the thin material creased horribly, but she didn't seem to care as she nervously edged towards the bedroom door.
"Where the hell is she, Alessandro?" Marcello's booming voice echoed through the house and reached Liliana's ears as she stepped out of the room behind Sophia, keeping close to her as she lead the way to the foyer. "She's my wife, you can't keep her from me!"
Halfway down the large, curving staircase of the Barbato mansion, Liliana caught sight of all three D'Onofrio brothers. Marcello was squared up to Barbato, leaning into his face with clenched hands shaking at his sides, as if he were restraining himself from reaching out and grabbing the old man.
"I'm not keeping Liliana anywhere," Barbato calmly responded, completely unfazed by Marcello's anger. "She chose to spend time with Sophia, I merely allowed them to stay in my home."
A vicious rumble tore from Marcello's chest. Glowering down at Barbato, he spat, "If I don't see her in the next minute-"
"She needs time away from you Mercello, forcing her to go back isn't going to solve anything."
Marcello's jaw worked and from where she stood, Liliana could see the prominent vein throbbing in his neck. His eyes were practically alight with fire. She swallowed harshly, her hand seeking out Sophia's to hold tightly. Sophia's skin was cool while Liliana was uncomfortably hot.
"She told you what happened?" Marcello's voice was strained.
"She's told me nothing." Barbato took a couple of steps backwards, and Marcello's eyes followed him. "If it's her safety you're worried about then there's no need. You know the kind of security I have, you know she's safe here, under my care, until she's ready to return."
It was then Liliana resumed her decent of the extensive staircase from Sophia's encouragement, her feet hitting the final step just as Mercello's focus swung to her. Behind him, his brothers stood with crossed arms and stiff expressions – though Giovanni most definitely had his sights set on the woman behind her.
"Marcello," she muttered tightly, her gaze dropping to the floor, unable to face his fury with such little energy inside of her.
"Merda."
Within a few short seconds he was at her side, his long legs eating up the distance between them until he was close enough to pull her into his chest, arms clenched tightly around her. She had flinched away from his advanced but was rendered frozen in his arms as her husband buried his face in the crook of her neck.
"I thought you had been taken," he murmured against her skin. She had expected his wrath - especially after hearing his anger just moments ago - but not this. Her hands stayed limp at her sides, unsure how to react.
"Are you okay?" Pulling back, his wide eyes scanned her face. He was arched over, face level with hers as his fingers dug lightly into her flesh, as if to stop her from fleeing. Then his hands were pushing back her hair from her neck, and he examined the hideous bruise that had darkened.
Liliana nodded, words escaping her. She glanced nervously towards the others, and realised instantly that they had become the centre of attention. Barbato seemed to be assessing them, while Sophia watched on wide eyed. Angelo and Giovanni's expression, remained sombre.
"Come home," Marcello demanded hotly, drawing her eyes back to him. He was so close to her now, his breath fanning her face, close enough for their noses to brush ever so slightly. He was speaking to her and only her, no one else was privy to their conversation.
"I can't," Liliana said firmly, finding her voice. "I won't."
"Why the hell not?" He snapped in a hissed whisper. Liliana shook her head, leaning back from his scrutinizing gaze. She needed room to breathe. She couldn't think so clearly this close to him.
"Sometimes you scare me," she stated simply, not as an answer but a realisation. Frowning, she elaborated, "I shouldn't be afraid to live my life freely because it wont please yours."
"It's for your safety!"
Liliana no longer bothered to raise her voice. That fire had died within her. She could no longer argue about this anymore, if he couldn't comprehend the weight of these final words then she didn't know how she could return to his side.
"That excuse only extends so far," she muttered with a sight. "It comes to a point when it's no longer about me but about you controlling me. It's not right. I don't mind the guards - I'm used to that - but I can't live with these restrictions, I can't be kept in that house forever. I need to socialise, have a life away from you. The more you control me, the more I'll fight back and until you can step back and allow me the space to breathe, we're never going to agree or get along. You think I'm being difficult, that I'm asking too much of you or doing all this just to irritate you, all I'm asking for is what any person deserves."
No matter how much she trembled beneath her skin at the weight of his heated scowl, she wasn't going to allow that fear to persuade her.
"Take this time to become comfortable with my distance; because if you fight it, it will be permanent. I'm tired but I won't relent, so either you change your expectations for this marriage or I leave. I can't -" her breath wavered, mouth quivering, "I can't stay in that house, not when-" Her lips fumbled over the words, speech broken, as the burning images of her mothers body stained the forefronts of her mind.
"Liliana," Mercello breathed, hand moving to cup her jaw. She didn't flinch this time. She allowed his hand to stroke the soft skin, relished in the gentleness for only a short second before it evaporated and his hands were buried in his trouser pockets once again, face encompassed with a mask of flippancy. A crumpled piece of paper was thrust out towards her. "Here, put these numbers in your phone. If you ever need me, that's my personal mobile."
Liliana didn't bother to tell him that Giovanni had given her Marcello's phone number weeks ago. Marcello seemed impatient, but reluctant to leave without her. He shot a withering glare at Barbato over her shoulder.
"That's Dr Isaac's number as well. Call him if there's anything wrong: any pain, any bleeding, any queasiness, if anything doesn't feel right."
Liliana could only nod. Again her husband was pulling something from his pocket - his wallet, opening it up and pulling a card free. She was about to protest, she didn't want, didn't need his money, but it wasn't Mercello's name on the card, it was hers.
"Giovanni has transferred your accounts over from Italy. If you're to stay with Sophia, without any of us, you'll need it."
"I- thank you." She directed her gratitude to Giovanni. He had the faintest smile on his lips but it vanished quickly. Once again he had assumed the role of a stony faced D'Onofrio, a man only built to face the horrors of their world. Both Giovanni and Angelo remained by the open doors, postures relaxed, arms crossed, expressions indifferent to their eldest brother's actions. Neither of them appeared ready to leap into action, only observing, fine with whatever was transpiring just metres away.
Mercello's lips were pressed tightly, seemingly nothing else to say - or nothing that he would allow himself to say. He was holding back, muscles in his neck jumping as her eyes fell back to him. Her husband was actually listening to her, was allowing her some freedom. She could not possibly have prepared for this outcome. After becoming accustom to their constant arguments, it felt odd to have him backing down, to end their back and forth without someone storming away in fury.
Did she thank him for allowing her to stay? Her freedom wasn't his to give, she knew that, but Mercello was making progress. He was finally working with her rather than against her. She was infinitely grateful but couldn't find the voice to say so. Now that he had made the first step, she was left lost on how to react.
And before long he was retreating from her, body tense, fists at his side and stalking back towards his brothers.
Later than evening, when Sophia and Liliana were finally settling back into bed, Liliana found herself thinking of Marcello. A quick glance at her phone revealed no new messages or missed calls and yet she found herself unlocking the found and opening up Marcello's contact. Her day with Sophia had succeeded in keeping her distracted, but as she lay in bed desperate for sleep, her mind was restless.
Her fingers worked fast at drafting a new message, sat on the edge of the high mattress with her back to her friend. But Liliana quickly lost courage and her phone was left abandoned on the small table beside her.
It wasn't until the lights of the bedroom were switched off and Sophia had fallen asleep, that Liliana found her fingers reaching for the device once again, pressing send on a message already written.
***
Marcello had been restless ever since he had left Alessandro's home. As soon as they'd retreated to the driveway, he'd thrown his car keys to one of his brothers and settled into the passenger seat, scowl set firmly on the mansions front doors. He had barely been able to concentrate on walking out of their, let alone driving. Leaving Liliana behind had felt so wrong.
That morning he had awoken early, like usual, but instead of allowing Liliana to sleep he had been impatient to talk to her. He couldn't allow this issue to fester between them. There was already so much distance between them both that he knew they would not survive further fuel in their already raging fire.
When he had found her missing, terror had seized him entirely. There was no mistaking the crippling feeling of fear that wrapped around his throat and made it so hard to breathe. He had failed her again, allowed harm to come to her as no mafia don should have. He was a pathetic excuse for a man. The knowledge that she had not been taken, but had left him to Barbato's mansion had been both an immense relief, and a huge knock to his ego.
Within a week Marcello had somehow gained a grandfather but lost his wife.
He could live without her for this short time, if that was what it took for her to return to him willingly. He resented the implication that she was trapped in his home, trapped in a marriage they had both been forced into. However, he knew that blame could fall on no one but himself. It was now essential that Liliana chose to return to him.
Mercello's focus had remained on his wife more often than usual that day. As he furthered his usual dealings between those of his company, and those of his empire, his thoughts often drifted towards her. He needed to know what she was doing and who she was with - the constant panic the pulsed beneath the surface of his skin was sure to drive him mad. There was nothing he could do to stop it.
Though she was his wife, he knew she was not his. Liliana had made it abundantly clear that she was her own person and truthfully Mercello would expect nothing less from a D'onofrio woman. But he had never had to implement such restraint, never danced this fight for power with any other woman in his lifetime.
Liliana dared to defy his command, dared to push him into place while she took control. She burned in a way that no alcohol could trounce; more addictive than the persuasions of a drink. And now like an addict, while he was deprived of her, he ached.
If all that had not been enough, another letter arrived. The sharp words on the folded scrap of paper nothing more than a taunt, successful in riling his fury.
"The fucking coward!" Mercello bellowed, shoving the disgusting paper from his sights. He sat in the dimly lit lounge of the manor, his glass full while his brothers sat a distance away. It was late, the time of day when Liliana would have already retired to bed - waiting for him in their room so they could spar with sharp tongues one last time before the day was lost. he should not have missed such a thing, but he did.
"Another threat?" Giovanni queried from his seat by the fireplace, the flames a shadow of what they had been earlier that evening. Marcello's brothers had stilled at his outburst, their brows furrowed in concern. Marcello wanted to spit at the crumpled paper. His chest was heaving and it took him longer than a second to compose himself before he could speak.
"Another pathetic attempt to intimidate me. And still," he snapped, leaping to his feat just as he slammed his palm against the coffee table. The throbbing of his hand was nothing to the heat that wracked his bones. "Still we know nothing."
"Do you still think it's someone from inside?" Angelo mused, fingers drumming thoughtfully against the thick leather of his chair. He seemed nonplussed by Mercello's anger, but then he was most often the victim of it.
Marcello shook his head vehemently. They all lived by a code, a code that had been upheld for generations and met with the solid fist of discipline should any man begin to wander from the line.
"No women, no children," he uttered, and his brother's needed no more to be said to understand. "Liliana has been threatened on multiple counts. Those are the actions of someone without honour but their information has to be coming from somewhere." His brothers were both attentive, waiting for their command. No longer would he sit by as others did his work for him. No longer would he allow for such disrespect of his wife, of his position, of his family. "Someone's mouth needs sewing shut and I fear I haven't proven myself since taking over; it's time to weed out the weak."
Nothing more needed to be said - Mercello had neither the patience nor the effort to stay around longer. He was already escaping upstairs, and despite knowing that nothing but an empty room awaited him, the visible confirmation of Liliana's absence in their bed all but shattered him.
He undressed slowly, as if to prolong laying down to sleep, phone thrown discarded on the mattress. When the lights of the room turned out, and he was left in darkness, his phone buzzed.
Liliana.
For minutes he stared at the bright screen of his phone - the light so bright that his eyes blurred and he had to squint to focus on the small words on the illuminated screen. He had to respond, he couldn't allow her to grow accustom to his absence in her life. He knew without a doubt that she had no need for him, truly given the chance Liliana would be free of her binds and would not ever look back. He was far too selfish to give her the opportunity though.
While all he wished to do was sleep and forget about the situation he had landed himself in, all Mercello could do was think back to the morning, to the image of Liliana he had hated to see. She had looked as bad as he could on one of those days, when it took all his effort to climb out of bed and face the world. The dark stains beneath her eyes and the heavy drop of her shoulders. He had wanted to grab her then and there and forced her into the nearest bedroom so she could rest. He didn't want to ever see so vulnerable, not after that night. Her dreary appearance did nothing but remind him of what a failure he was.
With a groan it was all Mercello could do not to call her, or better yet, rise from his bed and seek her out half way across the city in the dead of the night. So with as much effort as he could muster, he replied as simply as he could, before forcing himself to rest so that he could be ready for his plans the next day.
Sleep well.
Can you believe the story has so far only spanned a month? Why am I writing this so slowly?!