[RE-WRITTEN]
Liliana was greeted early the next morning, by the gruff sound of Giovanni's voice as he asked, "Where's Marcello?" He awaited her by the front door, fully dressed in his usual fashionable, well presented style, with his car keys in hand.
"In the bedroom on his laptop. I was surprised he was still in bed this morning when I awoke. I thought he'd be off doing his usual duties," she mumbled, fighting off a yawn, her fingers threading through her barely tamed curls. It was too early in the morning for her to be functioning right now; she couldn't understand why Giovanni had wanted to leave as early as 6:00 am.
Giovanni, who had turned to open the front door, paused and glanced over his shoulder at her with furrowed brows. "And he didn't object to this trip of yours?"
Liliana pursed her lips and refrained from responding as she walked past him and stepped outside, immediately heading towards his car that was already pulled up to the front of the house.
"He doesn't know does he?" Giovanni's disapproving voice followed her retreating figure, not allowing her to escape his questioning.
"I told him I was going out with you. He didn't ask where."
"Is there a reason you didn't specify where you were going in the first place?"
"Giovanni," Liliana sighed, turning to face him with her hands on her hips. "You said it yourself, Marcello would only object. Things are getting better between us, I'll admit, but it isn't Marcello's place to dictate where I can and can't go."
"You don't think that's hypocritical? You complain of the secrets we keep without caring for the reason behind our actions and yet you're hiding things from Mercello?"
"My secret is that I'm speaking to your mother today, of which I have every intention of telling him after we return. Your secrets are that my mother killed herself in this house, that I've been actively threatened for the past month, and that my father essentially sold me to Marcello to clear his debts with Sebastiano, most of which I've had to find out through anonymous letters. It's a little different."
She could understand that from Giovanni's perspective, how she was acting was hypocritical. But as a man in the mafia, it wasn't all that surprising to Liliana, that he hadn't thought to consider her point of view. She was not obligated to inform Marcello of her every move, she was not obligated to be fully transparent with Marcello on every single aspect of her life, especially not when she was fighting so hard to gain any control over her own life.
Marcello was trying, he was granting her more freedom, and now that she understood the motivations behind his controlling actions, she certainly viewed him in a more favourable light. But it didn't change the facts of her situation. She was a woman forced into a marriage, and so far her only success in gaining any equal footing was to take it regardless of the restrictions she had faced. So why would she cease from doing so now?
"Just because Marcello has spoken to me more, and has been more honest with me, doesn't mean he too isn't being selective with the truth that he shares. Given his work, I understand that complete honesty may be impossible, but that means it is unfair to expect such honesty from me in return." Liliana turned away from him, stepping towards the other side of the car.
Giovanni reached for her forearm, thick fingers keeping her captive with gentle force. His grasp did not hurt but she knew of the capability behind his actions. Again she was reminded how powerless she could be in their presence, how unequal they were. "If you don't speak to him how can you both learn to trust in one another and better your relationship?"
"I'm not refraining from telling him because I want to keep secrets. I have no issue with him knowing where I'm going, but I know he will deny me and it isn't his place to dictate what I can and can't do," Liliana snapped. "If you really insist I will march back upstairs right this second and tell him that I am going to speak to Gabriella, I will, but you know he will refute that plan and demand I stay in the manor."
"You're not giving him any option to prove you wrong. You're condemning him without chance of redemption," was all Giovanni explained, his voice calm but strained. He said no more on the subject, stalking to his car and climbing into the drivers side, patiently waiting for Liliana to join him.
The car ride was shorter than Liliana expected, and so tense she felt uncomfortable for the entire drive. They sat in silence, and Liliana did nothing but stare out of the car window while Giovanni navigated the busy streets until he was pulling up outside of the D'Onofrio hotel.
Liliana only raised a brow in mild surprise, but said nothing as they stepped out and Giovanni handed his keys to the valet. She hadn't placed much thought into where Gabriella would be staying when not in the manor; it made sense she would reside at the hotel.
***
"Giovanni, Darlin'," Gabriella greeted her eldest son at the door of her hotel room with a heavy kiss to the cheek and a tight hug. From over her sons shoulder she was able to scowl at the sight of Liliana in her skinny jeans and t-shirt, looking far too casual compared to the high-neck A-Line dress that the older woman was sporting. "I see you brought a friend."
The woman's tight smile suggested Giovanni had kept some of the details of this meeting to himself, otherwise, Liliana was sure Gabriella would not have agreed.
There was an audible sigh as Giovanni pulled back from his mother, holding her at arms length as he muttered in a tired tone, "You know Liliana, Ma. Liliana Fiorenza D'Onofrio, Marcello's wife."
Gabriella hummed, begrudgingly allowing Lilliana into the room after her son with a barely supressed scowl. It was a wonder she had not slammed the door in Liliana's face.
Liliana had been expecting nothing but a small bedroom, and bathroom attached; a naïve assumption considering the wealth of the man Gabriella was married to. Instead, Gabriella was staying in an expensive, top floor hotel suite with its own kitchen, lounge and dining area, and a bedroom, she imagined, was behind one of the many doors.
"And to what do I owe the company?" The question was aimed toward Giovanni but there was a sharp bite behind her words. Gabriella was stalking into kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water without offering anything to her guests.
"I was hoping to speak to you," Liliana said, stepping further into the room to make it clear that she was not about to leave after a few sharp words from Gabriella. She would have to try harder than that. "About your affair with my father."
Gabriella tensed and shot her a withering glance. "I see now why my eldest had contacted me for the first time since I had been exiled to this... place," she uttered with disgust, eyes falling across the fully furnished room. "I suppose I've been painted as the evil witch in this whole ordeal?"
Liliana said nothing, only waiting, her silence goading the women to continue.
Gabriella shrugged flippantly, explaining, "It's true; your father and I were together for some time, but I hadn't known about your mother."
"But you were still cheating, on Sebastiano," Lilliana confirmed, folding her arms across her chest.
Gabriella let lose a sharp laugh, one that had Liliana holding back a flinch. She waved her hand out in dismissal, water sloshing dangerously round the rim of the glass. "My marriage with Seb was always one of obligation. Neither of us were faithful to the other. If it weren't for..." She glanced towards Giovanni. "Well, it wasn't what either of us wanted, but Seb has strict rules when it comes to family and, as you know perfectly well, you can't say no to a D'Onofrio marriage."
Liliana could certainly sympathise with her in that regard. It was odd for her to think of herself as alike Gabriella in any aspect, but the truth was that the two of them had both been trapped in a marriage they did not want to a D'Onofrio man. Liliana couldn't blame Gabriella from straying from her own marriage, and it was not Gabriella who had cheated on her mother, but her father. Antonio Fiorenza had been the one to betray his marriage vows, no one else.
"You didn't know about my mother at all?"
"Is this an interrogation?" Gabriella arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.
"No," Liliana said, shaking her head. "But I thought it best I speak to you, to try and gather my own opinion of you without allowing anyone else to warp it. Did you end the affair when you found out about my mother?"
Gabriella's expression soured. As if to give herself time to answer, she took a long drink of her water until the glass was empty, slamming it on the counter with a little too much force.
"Your parents had an arranged marriage, neither chose to be with the other. Your father didn't love your mother. Was it so bad for him to be happy? Why should we have to suffer?"
"You sent letters to my mother."
"Did I?" Gabriella asked, head tilting, her expression unwavering.
"I think you've been coddled. You've grown too used to the comfort and protection that being the wife of Sebastiano D'Onofrio provided. But Sebastiano is not in power any more," Liliana taunted. "Marcello is, and my husband despises you, for good reason I'm sure. I wouldn't push your luck much further." If Gabriella was responsible for the letters, it was only a matter of time before Marcello enacted his punishment.
"I've never even spoken to your mother before."
Liliana stood perfectly still, as she uttered in a low voice, "I think you're lying to me."
"I-," Gabriella cleared her throat, straightening her posture with her palms flat against the kitchen island. "He never showed her the affection he showed me."
"Is that what he told you or do you know that as fact?" Liliana paused to gage Gabriella's reaction but the woman gave nothing away. "I've since learnt my father is not a man to be trusted. I wouldn't put it past him to have lied to you, as he did me. But your affair is what I'm least concerned about. You harassed my mother with letters, taunting her of my father's infidelity, didn't you?" Liliana accused sharply.
Sharp tone to match her sharp glare. Liliana had no patience for this woman, she had already made her mind up before visiting. Perhaps that was unfair; Liliana didn't care.
"So what if I did?" Gabriella hissed, her composure cracking. "Antonio was the one married to her, I had no obligations to your mother. Not when she had what I wanted."
"He was the one who cheated on his wife, my mother, when she was pregnant and vulnerable. But it doesn't excuse what you did, taunting her with her husband's affair. Now she's dead."
"You don't care to hear anything I have to say. You've condemned me already." Gabriella scoffed. "I don't care what you think of me. Paint me as a monster." Lips pursed, Gabriella fixed her son with an unblinking, narrow eyed stare and spat, "You should leave."
Liliana smiled bitterly, finally turning towards Giovanni who was watching his mother with a frown. He said nothing at the dismissal, and met Liliana's gaze with a blank expression. Liliana didn't bother to waste any more words on Gabriella D'Onofrio, she didn't deserve the attention. She had gotten what she had come for.
As they were leaving the hotel room, Gabriella called out after her, "I'd be careful, if I were you, going around asking questions like these. The D'Onofrio's don't like women who can think for themselves, and they don't like those who cannot do as they're told."
***
"How did it go?"
Liliana had barely made it two steps into the foyer when Marcello appeared. She blinked up at him heavily, lost for words, not having expected to see him so soon on her return. They had barely been gone, the talk with Gabriella unsurprisingly short, and she had expected him to still be lost in his work.
There was no sign of annoyance in his expression, but his voice sounded tight. He gave her a pointed look, and Liliana realised instantly that he was aware of where she had disappeared to. Though it was just as likely that Giovanni had informed him.
"About as well as you had probably expected," she said cautiously, preparing herself for possible scorn. He'd already made his desires to keep her away from Gabriella clear, and she had ignored them. It would be understandable for him to be upset. She knew just a week or more ago he would not have held his tongue in scorning her for her disappearance.
"And are you satisfied?" He stood directly in front of her, his arms cross tightly against his chest.
Giovanni passed by them, looking tense, as he headed further into the house in the direction of the kitchen. Marcello's attention, she noticed, didn't shift from her at all.
"She sent letters to my mother about her affair with Antonio, that I'm sure of. Whether or not she is doing the same thing now I don't know. I was kicked out before I could ask. I did threaten her on your behalf though," Liliana confessed somewhat sheepishly.
Marcello smirked. "You've had quite the busy morning then. What did you say to her?"
"I just reminded her that Sebastiano is no longer in power, and that you don't hold a very high opinion of her." Liliana shrugged, adding, "If she has been sending you threats, perhaps that will make her think twice."
"Unlikely. I've known her my entire life and not once has she offered me anything but hatred. Very little could make her change her ways," he scoffed. "You chose wisely when it came to the D'Onofrio whom escorted you. Gabriella wouldn't have willingly stepped foot within the same room as myself and Angelo is so far up his mother's ass that he would have provided no help should Gabriella bite."
"Giovanni has been good to me," Liliana confirmed, stepping towards Mercello. "He's fair with his judgement and doesn't allow his opinion of me or his feelings to get in the way of the advice he provides. When I'm wrong I know he will tell me but it's obvious how loyal he is to you, you have a good brother."
Mercellos expression had soured, it seemed he didn't favour her compliments of other men, no matter who they were.
He would have to trust in her that she would be loyal to him. Not once had she ever considered Marcello would not be faithful in their marriage, and she hoped he felt the same way. Infidelity was not something she viewed as an option for either of them. She certainly desired to be nothing like her father.
Liliana narrowed her eyes on him, and that seemingly put holt to Marcello voicing his displeasure. Instead, he swiftly changed the subject. Glancing down at his watch, he said, "I've arranged a trip to Italy; our flight is in an hour."
"So soon?" Liliana asked, losing her breath as Mercello stepped up so close to her that they were one breath away from touching. His arms wound their way around her waist, not allowing for space, pulling her closer so she was pressed against him. Her night at the D'onofrio manor had seemingly altered his perception of their growing relationship. He was open to showing his affection within the openness of their home.
"If we leave today it means you have a full week in Italy before I need to be back in the city for work. With the flight time, and the time difference we should be in Italy in time for a late dinner with your family."
"I-" Liliana cleared her throat, a little lost by how quickly Marcello had managed to arrange everything. She arched her neck up to look at him. "Thank you. Will it be just us?"
"Giovanni and Angelo need to stay here. I need someone to cover my work while we're gone," Marcello affirmed. "As for my father, he's at his home in Sicily but I doubt we will see him at all."
"Okay, I guess I'll go and pack then, how soon until we leave?"
"Thirty minutes." It was then Liliana realised Marcello already had his car keys in his hands.
"You're going somewhere?"
"I'll be back before we have to leave for the airport," he assure, leaning down to kiss her, lips pressing against hers with a confidence that had her clutching at his shirt.
Only twenty minutes later, Marcello had returned to the manor, his bags already packed in their car and the couple made their way to the airport where they boarded the D'Onofrio's private plane.
"Do my family know we're coming?" Liliana asked, as she finally turned away from the window towards where Marcello was sat nearby with a book in hand. She was surprised to find him away from his phone or laptop, it wasn't often he was seen not working. Liliana still knew very little about the D'Onofrio's, but she had learned that while both Angelo and Giovanni had dropped out of high school - like many mafioso men - Marcello was well educated. Despite knowing this, seeing him passing the time with a book seemed too normal for a man like him.
Marcello didn't look away from his book as he explained, "Your aunt is aware, and so is Roderigo - though he will remain in New York while we are still looking for the source of the break in. I don't know whether the rest of your cousins are informed."
"You spoke to Zia Adelina, and not Marco?" Liliana asked, perplexed.
"It is her home we will be staying in, not Marco's," Marcello said matter-of-factly. "Why wouldn't I speak to your aunt?"
Because most men would dismiss her aunt's authority entirely. With Adelina's husband dead, Marco now had the power to decide whether or not his mother could remarry, and most men in the Mafia took that to mean Marco now had control over his mother's life. Not to mention Marcello was another Mafia Boss about to infringe on Marco's territory, for that reason alone he should have informed Marco directly, regardless of whether or not Liliana and Marcello were married.
Liliana didn't answer, her teeth sinking into the plumpness of her lower lip, and her gaze falling back to the world outside the plane. "How did she react to the news?"
"What do you mean?"
"Did she welcome the idea of us visiting? Did she... did she seem happy?" She cleared her throat, swallowing back the lump that had formed.
Mercello's book thumped on top of the chair beside him as he rose swiftly to his feet. He was beside her in seconds, bringing the palm of her hand to his lips. Liliana was too busy blinking back tears to pull away from his comfort. She was being too emotional, but the fear of her Zia Adelina's rejection justified her reaction.
"Your aunt loves you a great deal, I'm certain of it. She will be pleased you're visiting."
"I know," Liliana sighed, "It's just hard to think like that, when I feel as if they had abandoned me after the wedding." Liliana felt like a child, unable to understand the actions of the adults around her, plagued with the inability to understand anything past her emotions. She felt pathetic.
"Is that how you really feel?" Marcello asked softly, brushing back her hair behind her ear and tilting her face towards his. His lips were turned down at the corners, and he genuinely looked concerned.
"I'd spent three years living with them, I had been closer to them than I had my own father by that point. Yet, they had left so abruptly after our wedding, without a word of goodbye and I have still yet to hear a word of them. The only contact I have had with my family is Roderigo's arrival, and we both know what his intentions here were."
"Why didn't you call them yourself, if you were missing them so much?"
Liliana shrugged, feeling stupid as she explained, "I was hurt, and feeling petty, I suppose. I had felt like it was their place to reach out to me first. Eventually I realised how immature that was, and I tried to contact Roderigo, but he had been ignoring my texts."
"He has?" Marcello asked, eyes narrowing. "I'll speak to him."
Liliana rolled her eyes, unable to hold back a small laugh. "Don't bother. If he wants to text back, he will."
Marcello still looked displeased as he sighed a muttered a quick, "Okay."
"Roderigo and I were never that close to begin with - he was always away on business for Marco and our grandfather - it's the other that I bonded most with. I just hope they will be happy to see me."
Mercello stretched out, arm moving to rest over her shoulders, thumb stroking gently over exposed skin.
"You have to stop assuming the worst," he said softly, pulling her closer so that she was leaning into him with her palm resting against his muscular chest. She was sure he was not just referring to her aunt, but also him.
"And what about you?" Liliana challenged, her voice lowering as she found herself unable to ignore the heat of his body pressed against hers.
"When nearly every man I know is trying to kill me on a daily basis, my worst assumption is my reality," Marcello scoffed.
"That's not what I meant. You need to place more trust in me. I see the way you react when I speak about another man. No matter how our marriage occurred, I understand the importance of fidelity."
Liliana distinctly remembered his words when they had dined alone, three weeks ago; 'You're the only woman I am going to be with until we die'. Of course it had been followed by an incredibly possessive and misogynistic statement, but the point still stood. Marcello also seemed inclined to be faithful, a shocking rarity in their culture. Mafioso's were known to have their variety of lovers outside of marriage, women of all different nationalities: Russian, Polish, Romanian, Moldovan. Why Marcello had no intention to pursue such a thing was unknown to her.
As for herself, she had absolutely no desire to seek comfort outside of her marriage. Not only were women not afforded the same luxury of a lover, but she simply had no interest to complicate things with any other man. Marcello was a difficult enough man to deal with.
Marcello sighed, lips finding their way to her temple.
"I know," he breathed against her skin. "But I cannot change who I am so suddenly. I am a jealous man, I am possessive, and I will always fear losing those close to me."
It was hard to fault his fears when she knew of his upbringing and his isolation from family in his childhood. Liliana nodded but couldn't find words of comfort, only pulled back and offered him a pointed look.
Again he sighed, and conceded with, "But I will try."
"Thank you."
***
"Liliana!" Adelina's loud voice cut clearly throughout the noise of her restaurant. It was just almost 11:00 pm, and the patrons of the restaurant all seemed to have finished their evening meals by the time they had arrived, though there was an abundance of open bottles of wine despite it only being Monday. A few diners glanced towards them at the sound of her aunt's welcome, but otherwise Liliana and Marcello garnered very little attention.
Liliana looked to the other side of the restaurant, and there she was greeted with the familiar sight of her aunt navigating her way around the tables towards them. Liliana felt tears sting in the corners of her eyes, and her hand automatically sought out Marcello's. She threaded her fingers through his, gripping on tightly, in need of the extra support. He said nothing, and she didn't turn to look at him, but felt him squeeze her hand in return.
"La mia bella nipote!" Adelina exclaimed once she was in front of them, arms quick to wrap her up in a hug which forced to Liliana to release Marcello's hand and step away from him. Lips pressed close to Liliana's ear, Adelina whispered quietly - no doubt so that Marcello had no chance of overhearing her, "Are you okay?"
Liliana hummed in confirmation, and pulled away with a tight smile. She noted her aunt's expression didn't match her concerned tone, instead there was a bright, unfaltering grin on her face as her eyes surveyed Liliana fully. Liliana knew her aunt had had years to practice such good acting.
"I'm so glad you've come to visit, the boys will ecstatic to see you!" Adelina quickly glanced over Liliana's shoulder, before falling back. "How long are you staying for?"
"A week," Marcello answered before she had a chance to reply, stepping up towards the two women so he could stand right behind Liliana once again, body grazing hers.
There was visible falter in her aunt's expression.
"Marcello," Adelina breathed, her voice audibly strained. With two brief kisses on either cheek, they greeted each other with equal levels of enthusiasm.
"Adelina," Marcello returned flatly.
"Have you both eaten yet? It's late and I know you're probably wanting to settle in, but the boys and I haven't had dinner yet."
"I'm starving," Liliana confessed at the thought of her aunt's cooking, surprised at how much she hadn't realised she'd missed it until now. Marcello said nothing, but seemed pleased by her answer, his hand coming to rest gently on the small of her back.
"Let's get home then, I was just finishing up for tonight anyway." Her aunt turned back towards the direction of the kitchen, where Liliana recognised the restaurants manager, Guiseppe, and waved a goodbye before ushering the two of them back out to where her car was parked.
Unlike the D'Onofrio family, and her father, her aunt never exploited the luxuries that Liliana knew she could afford. She would drive herself always, and had always worked at the family restaurant despite raising four children and surviving a tumultuous marriage. Though she hadn't been in charge when her husband was still alive and there was never as much pressure on her aunt professionally until the recent years, she knew Adelina to be a strong capable woman that could always work well under pressure.
"You've lost weight, Liliana," Adelina commented as she drove, glancing at Liliana in the rear of the car through her mirror. Liliana winced at the observation, settling deeper into Marcello's side as if to hide herself from her aunt's sight.
At Liliana's silence, Adelina continued with heavy disapproval in her tone, this time addressing Marcello. "Have you been eating okay? Are you being looked after?"
"I've been fine," Liliana replied tightly. "Things have just been a bit... chaotic lately."
Adelina only hummed, her attention falling back to the road. Liliana found the vibrations of the car, the heat, and the darkness outside to be too relaxing after their long flight, and allowed herself to relax in the comfort of Marcello.
By the time they arrived at the Fiorenza family home, Liliana had to be shook awake. Eyes blurry, she allowed Marcello to lead her out of the car by her hand as she stifled her yawns. She was hardly paying attention to her surroundings, focussed only on the heat of Marcello's hand in hers as she squinted at the familiar Italianate style villa, with it's low pitched roof and large windows. Nothing had changed, not that she had been gone all that long; the courtyard was still decorated with her aunt's numerous plants and weathered decorations, there was still a broken hanging basket on the floor beneath the front window, and the small stone fountain that had not worked once in the entire three years she'd lived there had not been fixed either.
"D'Onofrio." Marco's deep voice was the first to greet them as they followed Adelina into the house. All her cousins - minus Roderigo - were there waiting for them; Marco, Federico, and Gavino.
"Boys, set the table. I'll get started on dinner and make us some drinks. Coffee Marcello?" Adelina spoke, choosing to ignore the quickly growing tension that thickened the air between Marcello and her sons. Marco, the eldest, was still watching Marcello with great intensity, his mouth drawn into a flat line.
"Grazie," Marcello answered, holding his gaze with Marco.
Liliana rolled her eyes and was quick to follow her aunt into the kitchen, unbothered by whatever display of dominance was about to ensue between the men. She had enough faith in Marcello that he would survive her cousins alone, though couldn't deny the small tinge of worry she felt as soon as he was out of sight. Her cousins had plotted to kill Sebastiano after all.
In the kitchen, the oven was already on with various pans cooking on the stove. Her aunt no doubt had already prepped everything upon knowledge of their imminent arrival; she liked to be prepared. Currently she was stood by a counter, a collection of cups in front of her as she turned on the coffee machine.
"Tea as usual?" Adelina asked, glancing over at Liliana from her shoulder, a weak smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Liliana nodded, unsure how to begin the inevitable conversation that she was desperate to begin.
"Why did-"
"How-"
Both of them fought to speak at once, cutting each other off and dragging a strained laughter from their lips.
"You go first," Adelina insisted, moving towards her.
"We haven't spoken in a while," Liliana began, wetting her lips. Her chest grew tight as she watched her aunt and she could feel the oncoming sting of tears. She hugged her arms protectively around her waist. "And I... I ah- I've been wondering about the wedding, and why you all left so suddenly afterwards."
"Oh Liliana," Adelina breathed, her shoulders dropping. "I'm so sorry we left like that, but I had no choice. The boys wanted nothing more than to go to America with you, they despised the thought of leaving you alone with the D'Onofrio's, but I know what it's like to be in that situation. I knew if I allowed them to fill your head with their hate of Marcello, you would never be able to know what kind of a man he is, and what kind of relationship you could have without interference."
"You could have still called," Liliana retorted, wiping at a rogue tear on her cheek. "I felt abandoned by you all. Everything had happened so abruptly, and before I knew it, I was married and alone."
"I should have, I'm sorry. I'm truly am so glad you're here now. I've missed you so much." Adelina pulled her into a tight embrace, and Liliana sniffled against her shoulder, hating how weak her tears made her feel. Her aunt rubbed soothing circles against her back.
When Adelina stepped back, her expression had turned grim. "You've seen Roderigo, yes?"
"With a gun and a vendetta against Sebastiano D'Onofrio," Liliana confirmed, her disapproval clear in voice.
Adelina sighed, and asked, "Does Marcello know why he was there?"
"He does."
Adelina stiffened, and frowned. "But he hasn't done anything?"
"Not to my knowledge." Liliana shook her head and her aunt looked surprised.
"Interesting," Adelina mused. "Roderigo told us what happened, about the break in. I was terrified, when he said you were hurt. How are you healing?" Her aunt's palms pressed against Liliana's damp cheeks as she locked teary eyes with her.
Liliana, without words, displayed her hands to her aunt, palms facing upwards to show the healing cuts, the skin scabbing over in ugly, thick lines. Her aunts lips pursed, thumbs grazing gently over the marred skin. Liliana was quick to pull back her hands though, fingers tugging at the high material of her shirt around her neck to display the fading discolouration of hands around her throat.
"This was done in the attack?" Her aunts voice grew low and taunt, asking a question Liliana understood under the guise of another. Her aunt's slender fingers wrapped loosely at the base of her own throat, as if the ghost of another hand was constricting her breath this very moment.
"Marcello hasn't laid a hand on me."
Despite her assurance, her aunt's focus had weakened, eyes glazed with her own unshed tears. Adelina's husband was a topic that was never discussed, but her aunts words and actions always held a hint of caution and warning. Liliana was smart enough to understand what kind of a relationship they had had. Her aunt's husband had not been a warm man - no that Liliana had ever spent much time with him - he'd had a relentlessly stiff posture, stern eyes and held an attention in his gaze that had him scrutinising everything and everyone at all times.
"Shall we take the drinks out?" Liliana murmured, a hand resting lightly on Adelina's bicep, breaking her from whatever daze she had fallen into. "They may have already tore each other apart."
A forced laugh broke from the seal of Adelina's grimacing lips as she struggled to produce a smile. The injection of humour wasn't enough to dispel the heavy atmosphere that had settled between them but it was enough to spur them into movement.
Her aunt stepped back, tugging the hem of her shirt and combing through her hair as if to make herself presentable once again. The only indication of a crack in her usually strong façade was the still red tinge to her cheeks and eyes.
Sniffling, she hurried to the tray of drinks on the counter where she finished up. Liliana was quick to pick up the tray for her, noticing the shaking of her aunts hands.
The men were silent as Liliana and her aunt re-entered the room, with stone faces and stiff postures, as expected. If the thick tension in the room wasn't so suffocating, Liliana would have found the similarities between the men of her life to be painfully hilarious. They all seemed to share identical mindsets and stubbornness, completely abhorrent to one another and incapable of communicating without showing their disdain.
"Marcello." Adelina handed Mercello a small mug of coffee with a faint smile.
"Grazie," Marcello uttered.
"I understand that the situation with my brother in America has been... difficult," Adelina said, swallowing harshly. Marcello's jaw clenched, but he did not interrupt. "I assure you that I have not approved of Antonio's decisions in a very long time, and I am infinitely thankful to your and your father for choosing to spare our side of the family from the punishment of his disgusting actions."
Marcello was not a man Adelina thought very highly of, that much was clear from the purse of her aunt's lips whenever she was within his company, or, the blatant distrust for his treatment of Liliana. To openly show such gratitude was big of her.
A smile, though tight lipped, spread across Marcello's mouth. Liliana had to wonder whether Marcello despised her entire family or just the men. He had been nothing but respectful to her aunt and, to her knowledge, had never uttered a negative word against her, but he certainly seemed uncomfortable in her presence.
"It's regrettable that it took so long for someone like that to suffer for his crimes." Both literal and moral crimes. "You've been working and prospering on this side of the business for decades. It would be cruel of me to take it as my own in retribution for your brother's mistakes. Despite what I'm so often painted as by others, I am not the devil."
Liliana did not miss Marcello's sideways glance towards Marco. It seemed the last sentence was uttered for his benefit.
After they had finished their drinks, Adelina was quick to usher them towards the dining room, where the table had already been set. Her aunt had even lit candles for a centrepiece.
"Is there an occasion we're celebrating?" Liliana glanced across the table, eyeing Zia Adelina's best crockery and glassware, the lit candles, and the unopened bottle of champagne.
"You're here in Italy with us, isn't that something to be celebrating?" Marco spoke up from the head of the table. Marco had been otherwise quiet since they had arrived, but Liliana had not been blind to his heavy observation. He had been watching them both, no doubt trying to understand as much as he could about their relationship - or looking for weaknesses. Liliana was determined to not let him find any ammunition to use against them. She had already told her cousins very clearly in Belize that once she married Marcello, her allegiance would lay with the D'Onofrio's.
She would not say anything for now though, not while she was so exhausted from travelling, and her aunt had gone to so much trouble to welcome them in Italy. From beside her, Marcello's hand moved to settle on her thigh, the warmth of his palm seeping through her jeans. She didn't move it, even as his thumb began to stroke against the material and Liliana was fighting the urge to squirm in her seat.
She shot Marcello a side-eyed look, but his attention was held by Marco as he said, "Liliana didn't want to wait any longer for a visit. I apologise we couldn't come sooner but naturally I've had other obligations in light of Antonio's agreements with my father."
"We heard you killed a man Lili," Federico spoke up, absentmindedly, as he already was tucking into his food. His gaze shifted to Mercello, briefly, not to seem out of the ordinary, but he was watching; it seemed her husband was being tested.
"Fede!" Adelina was quick to reprimand, while Liliana could do nothing but flinch at her cousin's blunt words. She felt Marcello's hand squeeze at her thigh, and when she looked at him again, this time he was glaring at her cousin. Her own hand laid atop Marcello's and gripped his fingers tightly.
"I don't think that's something we should be talking about over dinner, do you?" Liliana questioned her cousin, condescension lacing her tone. She didn't need to be reminded of what already weighed so heavy. She didn't appreciate her emotions being disregarded to in a bid to push her husband and test his reactions. Federico didn't answer her, though lowered his head as if ashamed of himself.
Clearing her throat, Liliana shifted in her seat and adjusted her napkin on her lap. Spearing all of her cousins with a disapproving glare, she began to eat, doing her best to ignore the uncomfortable atmosphere at the table.
***
"So this evening..."
Mercello looked up from where he was bent over the bed, neatly unfolding his shirts and placing them on hangers. They'd only been in their room for ten minutes but Mercello seemed eager to unpack while Liliana was already preparing for bed - her zia had shown them to their room immediately after dinner, noticing how exhausted Liliana seemed.
"What was said between you and my cousins while I was in the kitchen?" She asked, hovering in the doorway of the en-suite as she removed her makeup.
Marcello chortled, resuming with unpacking. The white shirt he was wearing was creased, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top button was undone. It was to Liliana's annoyance, that she noted how attractive he looked. She much preferred to see him like this than buttoned up and dressed to perfection.
"Your cousins dislike me a great deal. There wasn't much said, it was mostly them glaring and trying to appear intimidating."
"Appear?"
Scoffing, Marcello turned and fixed her with a pointed stare. "Federico and Gavino are just boys, Federico's outburst today proved that; they're insignificant. Marco's older than me, but inexperienced, still living under your grandfather's thumb with no real power of his own. Roderigo is the only one mature enough for me to respect, but he's merely a lackey with a gun who only does what he's told, thus no real threat to me."
Liliana huffed, rolling her eyes. "Of course."
"You disagree?" He smirked at her, eyeing the length of her in her full pyjama trousers and buttoned up shirt. "Cold?"
"I just should have expected your ego to be so large. And is there a problem with what I'm wearing?" Liliana's voice rose in volume as she turned back into the bathroom. Marcello followed her.
"They're not your usual style," Mercello confessed from the doorway with a shrug of his shoulder, clearly referring to Liliana's usual revealing lace and silk.
Mercello appeared behind her, hands stroking slow circled against her hips. "Not as soft," he whispered in her ear, breath disturbing the loose strands of hair that curled there, and inciting a shiver down Liliana's neck.
Liliana hummed and countered with an amused smile, "They're plenty soft for me to sleep in."
She stepped away from his teasing's, re-entering the bedroom and heading immediately for their bed. They'd been put in Liliana's old room and thankfully they had a Queen sized bed.
"You're being tested you know," Liliana thought to warn.
"I assumed so. I would expect nothing less given who I am, given who your family are. But their approval means nothing to me," Mercello declared with flippancy as he returned to his task.
"Well it means something to me."
Marcello paused. He did not turn around as he asked quietly, "Do you truly believe they will ever accept me? Despite past alliances, our families have always been at a difference. Our father's and their affairs have made sure that will continue."
"If we can deal with this, together, then so can they. I understand this is how you men live your lives: stoic, unwavering and without an inch of forgiveness or flexibility, but does it not get tiring? Does this way of life not just make enemies of everyone? What good is our marriage if it cannot even form an alliance between our two families? Why are you all so insistent that things cannot be rectified between us?"
"Does it matter?" Marcello asked, suddenly sounding tired. "Does it matter what they think of me?"
"It matters what they think of us."
With his back still turned towards her, his head stooped, he whispered so quietly she almost didn't hear it, "I didn't have a choice in this either."
Liliana froze, her gaze probing the back of his head, silently begging for him to turn around so she could see his expression. Her voice was thick as she asked, "Your father threatened you?"
"Not in such specific words, but the implication was there. I don't have as much freedom as you think I do."
Liliana was at a loss of what to say. She had always assumed Marcello had some level of autonomy in regards to their marriage. She had not considered that he was in the same position as her, unable to refuse his father. While his position in the mafia, his position as a man, meant that in their culture he still held more power in their relationship than she ever could, he'd still been forced into this, just like her.
"I'm sorry." He turned, and regarded her with surprise. Liliana elaborated, "I'm sorry your father forced you into this."
"Thank you," Marcello uttered. At the yawn that was escaping Liliana, he smiled faintly "You're exhausted, you should go to bed. We can discuss more in the morning."
***
Marcello could not join Liliana in bed, not immediately. He was too occupied with the conversation that had just transpired between them to sleep. She cared. She cared how her family perceived him, them. Their approval was important to her, crucial - and she wanted them to approve of him.
It was an odd sense of pride that swelled within the hollow of his chest, a warmth seeping throughout his body.
She was accepting him within her life, all facets of it. And perhaps that was because he was finally listening to her, finally allowing her to take more control over her life. His fears over her safety had led to his own selfishness, and deprived her of the resect she deserved, not just as his wife but as a person. He knew he cared for her, that much was obvious, and now it seemed she was beginning to care for him too. He'd never realised how rewarding such a thing was. It had been a long time since he had any interest in romance.
This was a difficult chapter to edit, it took me longer than expected and I've added nearly 1,000 words to this in the re-write. Hopefully the improvements show. I find it hardest to write these chapters where Liliana and Marcello's relationship is beginning to transition into something more, some a little healthy and communicative.
Q. What do you think of the dynamics of their relationship now?