[RE-WRITTEN]
Liliana had avoided speaking to Marcello as best she could once she returned from her visit with Barbato. She didn't know what to say to him, or how she could look him in the eye fearing what she did. She would not tell him about the possible pregnancy, not yet, not until it was confirmed; not while she was still praying that the positive test had been false.
It was hard to avoid him though, when he had been waiting for her, sat off to the side from her cousins in her aunt's lounge with a drink in hand, while her cousins talked amongst themselves. Marcello didn't seem to care that he was not involved in the conversation, and Liliana suspected he preferred it that way. It hardy mattered anyway, not when Marcello's focus was so resolutely fixed on her.
She sat across the room, curled up in an armchair as she responded to her messages from Sophia. She hadn't told Sophia about the possible pregnancy, and wouldn't until she knew for sure and had spoken to Marcello about it first. Besides, this was hardly news to share over the phone, she wanted to talk it through with Sophia in person. There were sure to be many more tears.
"You're quiet, Liliana," Marco called out to her from across the room, effectively silencing his brothers. Liliana first met Federico's scrutinising gaze and wondered if he had told Marco about their encounter earlier today.
Liliana pursed her lips, muttering, "I'm just tired."
If she were to confide in any of her cousins, it would be Marco. As the eldest he was the most reserved, and the one she could trust the most to keep anything she told him to himself. But she didn't know how well he would react to the news, or how he would react to Marcello as a result. Hopefully he would assume their late night conversation was to blame for her exhaustion, and would not pry any further into her strangely withdrawn behaviour.
"Are you sure you're feeling okay? You look pale," Gavino said, frowning. She was thankful for the assumption; it was better they assumed she was ill, that she had indeed eaten something bad yesterday like she had initially thought, that to know how Liliana and Adelina spent their morning. The only problem was that there was an unmissable look of concern on Marcello's face. She wouldn't meet his eye as she answered Gavino.
"I didn't sleep well, and I threw up this morning. It was definitely something I ate at that café," she lied. She tried to smile reassuringly, but it felt forced and truthfully Liliana felt only numbness spreading out throughout her body.
Marcello's placed his glass on the table beside him, the audible sound drawing everyone's attention as he frowned at her. "Do you want to call Dr. Isaac?" he asked quietly, though Liliana had no trouble hearing him in the now silence of the room. Her cousins all watched the interaction between them intently, and she noted that Marco was eyeing Marcello warily.
"I'll be fine," Liliana assured, swallowing back a lump in her throat. "We'll see how I feel tomorrow."
Marcello nodded tersely, lips pursed in disapproval. He didn't seem content with her answer and when he scanned the faced of her cousins to find them all watching him, his expression settled into a scowl. Without excusing himself, Marcello stood and left the room.
"He's quiet," Gavino commented, being the first to break the silence. "Do you two ever even have anything to talk about?" She didn't detect any malice in his tone but supposed Gavino was trying to mock her husband in some way.
"He can be... reserved when it comes to social situations sometimes," Liliana explained, and nodded towards her eldest cousin. "He's a lot like Marco. He'd rather watch than speak - he won't dominate the conversation unless he has to." That was something Liliana had observed herself countless times: at their wedding, at his relatives party, and when they had been at the bar especially. He usually had little desire to involve himself in the conversation.
When they didn't say anything else, Liliana forced her attention to return to her phone. She needed the distraction, for fear that if they continued talking she would let something slip and everyone would know before it was confirmed, or she was ready.
It was only five minutes later when Marcello's heavy footsteps could be heard nearing closer, and her husband's broad frame finally passed through the open doorway. There was a bowl in his hands, and as he returned to the empty sofa, he looked towards Liliana expectantly.
He beckoned with a tilt of his head. "I haven't seen you eat anything all day."
Liliana was wide-eyed as she clambered to her feet and moved to sit next to him. She caught a look of surprise on Gavino's expression.
In the bowl, Mercello had cooked her an omelette and boiled veg. It was simple and healthy and had Liliana's chest tightening at the obvious concern and attention he had been showing her.
"Thank you." Liliana was smiling softly from beside him on the sofa, catching Federico's narrowed eyed stare and offered a raised eyebrow in response - as if to say 'See? Not what you expected' - despite the fact that she never would have expected such an action from Mercello either.
The room remained uncomfortably quiet for a couple of minutes while Liliana ate, praying that her earlier queasiness would not return, until thankfully her cousin's resumed their conversation. Marcello remained quiet beside her, his drink in his hand once again, with an arm sprawled out on the back of the couch behind her. The tips of his fingers would graze the bare skin of her shoulders, or tease a section of her curled hair as he listened to whatever her cousins spoke about - Liliana was hardly paying enough attention to know.
Soon, Liliana found herself leaning into Marcello's side; his arm was now resting against her shoulder, holding her to him as her head rested against his left pec. She was exhausted, her eyes drooping closed, but she was far too comfortable to muster the effort required to go to bed.
It was after five minutes of laying there with her eyes closed that Marco finally addressed Marcello. It was clear that Marco presumed she was no asleep, as he uttered flatly, "I heard Anton is back."
She didn't stir against Mercello, her face now nestled against his chest as her husband held her to him, interest piqued as she listened. Liliana had almost forgotten of Marco's history with Anton. Never having heard of the man until a few days ago she was more than curious to find out as much as she could.
"He is," was all the information Marcello deigned to provide.
"I imagine he's still playing lapdog, running round doing all of your errands."
Liliana had never heard Marco sound so bitter before. Did Roderigo, Federico and Gavino know of Marco's relationship with Anton? Did their grandfather? She couldn't imagine a man as traditional as Valentino Fiorenza approving of such a thing. As much as she loved her grandfather, as loving as he had been to her throughout her childhood, he was not a tolerant man, and he very much adhered to the beliefs of their culture - as toxic as they may be.
"His recent stay in Qatar was family related. Anton does as he pleases Marco, he always has."
Marcello knew, Liliana realise, what had happened between Marco and Anton. Yet while his words alluded towards it, they did not enlighten Liliana in the slightest. What could Anton have possibly done to warrant such bitterness from Marco, to warrant such a resolute decision to never speak to the man again?
A silence settled across the room again, and when it became apparent that neither Marco or Marcello had anything else to say, Liliana shifty slowly and feigned a yawn. Stretching, she noticed Marcello's eyes on her.
"I should go to bed," she murmured to no one in particular though her gaze was locked with his, slowly dragging herself to her feet.
Upstairs, Liliana found Adelina's bedroom door open as she was passing, and paused in the doorway. Her zia was sat cross-legged above the bedsheets, her hair tied in a loose knot at the base of her neck and all make-up had been removed ready for sleep. She was sat silently with a book in hand though, no evidence of seeming tired. Unlike Liliana who was struggling to keep a yawn at bay.
"Your grandfather is holding an event tomorrow night at his villa," Adelina spoke, acknowledging Liliana's presence immediately. There was a wry smile on her lips as she watched Liliana in the doorway. "Come in, sit down."
She patted the bed beside her and Liliana quickly made her way over, not needing to be told twice. She sank easily into the soft mattress and with how heavy her eye lids felt, Liliana wondered if she'd ever be able to get back up and make it to her own bedroom.
"Does he know I'm here?" Liliana was tucking back her thick hair behind her ears, the loose, wild tendrils tickling irritatingly against the cheeks. "I haven't heard from him."
It wouldn't be odd for her grandfather to know of her arrival. He did, after-all, have eyes everywhere in Sicily. While the D'onofrios were certainly feared back in America, it was her nonno Valentino that installed fear into the hearts of Italy.
"He knows," Adelina confirmed grimly.
"And yet he hasn't been to visit," Liliana mused, leaning back against the headboard, propping her head with one of her aunt's plush decorative cushions.
"I don't allow him to visit. Your nonno and I, we," Adelina cleared her throat, "we don't speak."
Her book now forgotten, Adelina shifted on the bed so that she now lay facing Liliana, a hand reaching out to hold hers. Her aunt's hand shook as she squeezed Liliana's fingers between hers.
Liliana was surprised by that; though on reflection she supposed she had never witnessed her grandfather visiting her aunt's home. Every time Liliana had spent time with him, she had ventured out to his mansion, or met him somewhere public. It truly hadn't occurred to her until now, that she had not seen her grandfather and aunt in the same room together in the last three years - except, of course, at her wedding in Belize.
From what Adelina had already revealed of her relationship with Valentino - of the marriage he had forced her into - Liliana was beginning to understand she knew very little of whom her family really were. Much like with her father, she only knew what her grandfather wanted her to. He had portrayed himself to be a caring, protective grandfather that doted on her and encouraged a surprising level of independence - but from her aunt's perspective he was a uncaring, neglectful father much like her own.
"Are we expected to attend this party?" Perhaps it was a stupid question, nonetheless Liliana was studying Adelina for her reaction.
"He sent word this morning for us all to attend," Adelina seemed unimpressed. Liliana imagined whatever invitation Valentino had sent was more command than request.
"But you won't be going?"
"If you want me there, Liliana, I will go with you. But otherwise I'd rather stay here. The boys will be attending," Adelina said tersely, though Liliana knew such a tone was not aimed at her. Shoulders tense, Adelina closed her eyes and released a deep breath. When she opened them, her demeanour had altered entirely. Now a smile contorted on her lips, and Liliana couldn't help wonder how fake it was. How much of an act did her aunt play every day, just to appear happy?
"I wouldn't want you to go if you're uncomfortable," Liliana murmured, though she was brutally aware of how uncomfortable it would now be for her in light of these new revelations. Her relationship with her grandfather had not changed, but Lilian knew without a doubt that her loyalties lay with her aunt above all else. Knowing what her grandfather had forced upon Adelina, knowing what he had allowed her to endure in a marriage to such a violent man, she was not sure she could ever look at her grandfather in a favourable light again.
"It's black tie so it will give you a chance to dress up, I know you have a collection of outfits hidden in your wardobe upstairs that you'll have to remember to take back to America with you. I swear all you ever did was spend your money on clothes," her aunt teased.
Liliana nodded, smiling barely. She could not stop thinking about her nonno and zia, of the damaged relationship between them. The similarity of her relationship with her own father was glaringly obvious. But how could they wish to remain civil when both her father and nonno had forced the direction of their daughters futures for selfish means such as power and money? "If I have the boys and Mercello with me, I'll be more than fine, if you don't mind being left on your own," Liliana assured.
Adelina smiled softly as she said, "I would prefer a quiet night in by myself," Adelina said, smiling softly, then glanced down towards her stomach for only a second. "How are you doing?"
"Have you booked the appointment with your doctor? I can't deal with this cluelessness. I need to know for sure if I'm pregnant or not." It was maddening to have taken two tests, and for them to give different results. Now she was stuck in this frightening limbo of pregnant and not pregnant. "If I am, I'd rather not wait to see Marcello's doctor in America, and have the choice of when and how Marcello finds out be taken away from me."
"I've got you an appointment for tomorrow."
Liliana nodded and uttered her thanks. The sooner it was confirmed the better. The longer she had to pray this was all a mistake, the harder the disappointment would be to face if the test was indeed positive.
"Do you want me to go with you?" Adelina asked.
"Please." She wasn't sure she was strong enough to go alone. Liliana glanced at the clock on her aunt's bedside table. It was late, far too late for these kinds of conversations and she should have gone to bed ages ago. "Do you mind if I stay here for a while, while you read your book?"
***
Marcello's fist gently nocked against the wooden frame of Adelina Fiorenza's open doorway. It was a room far smaller than the one he and Liliana shared, undoubtedly not the master bedroom of the house. Perhaps that room was in disuse after the death of her husband. The only décor the small bedroom had was the family photographs that adorned the walls and some frilly cushions. The lights were still on and the door wide open, and from where he stood he could see Liliana curled above the sheets, next to her aunt, breathing evenly with her face pressed against a plush cushion. She was still fully dressed; it seemed she had never made it back to her room.
"She fell asleep five minutes ago, I didn't have the heart to wake her," Adelina addressed him. "I suppose you're here to take her to bed. Come in."
Hesitant, Marcello slowly stepped into the room and approached the bed. It wasn't often he felt uncomfortable, but being in this maternal woman's home, entering her bedroom; it seemed intrusive. He had never been allowed in his father's bedroom as a child, not while Gabriella had been there. By all accounts, Marcello was a very private man, and did not like to share his space with anyone - as such he rarely intruded on other's spaces.
"I don't think she's been sleeping well," Mercello confessed, not looking away from his sleeping wife. One of his hands rested on her head, fingers threading through her hair as his thumb stoked along the edge of her cheek. "She won't talk about it with me." Even the heavy sigh that he expelled could not dispel the weight on his chest. As always, she was so still in her sleep.
"She's not as strong as she pretends to be. She'll need support."
He knew Adelina had been watching him, scrutinizing his every move in relation to Liliana; she had been all week. He knew what it was she was searching for in him. He knew what it was that made her so cautious and distrusting of his presence in Liliana's life.
"I'm sorry about your husband, of what he put you through."
"How do you -" she stopped herself, mouth tightening. "Anton."
Mercello gave a firm nod. His hand untangled itself from Liliana and both hands were thrust into his trouser pockets. His shoulders were stiff as he continued to stand. "Anton was loyal to your son and your family in every way, except in that instance," Mercello assured, not wanting her to assume Anton had been his spy. He knew it was what had caused such a huge rift between his friend and the family Anton had cared so much for. But it was in the past and nothing could change that. "When he told me of your situation, we didn't hesitate to act when perhaps we should have. It wasn't my place to interfere and yet I did."
It was with tears that Adelina now looked at him. The woman's eyes were creased at the corners.
"But why?"
Marcello's eyes fell back to his slumbering wife, chest tight as he uttered, "No man should have that much power over someone. Me and my familia live by an unwavering set of rules. The crimes of your husband could not go unpunished."
"Thank you. I'd wondered who had pulled the trigger, I had suspected..." There was a pause and Mercello took that as the end to the conversation. He leant over to Liliana when Adelina continued, "You're not the man your reputation depicts."
He supposed that was Adelina's way of saying she approved of him.
Marcello knew he needn't wait for further dismissal and within minutes he was already back in Liliana's room, placing her onto their bed and tucking her in.
Some interesting revelations this chapter! Wonder how that will play out for the rest of the book 👀
Q. How are you guys feeling about Mercello lately?