Marcello hadn't returned to the bedroom that night. Nor did he make an appearance that morning, and she remembered Angelo telling her how early Marcello usually started his day. He was probably long gone from the house before she had even awoken. Liliana didn't know why it bothered her, but it did; and she felt very alone.

She should be glad in a way; this meant she wouldn't have to face him so soon after the embarrassing display last night. She felt mortified by how blatantly she'd displayed her desires for him. So quickly had she gone from disliking him to lusting over him.

Liliana ate by herself in the kitchen, barely nibbling at the bread and jam on her plate, when an amused voice broke her from her musings.

"We do have a dining room for you to eat in," Giovanni drawled as he stepped into the kitchen. He was dressed impeccably in tailored navy trousers and a fitted grey shirt unbuttoned at the collar, that showed off his larger muscular build. Though Giovanni was the middle child, he was the tallest and had clearly spent more time at the gym compared to his brothers.

"I don't know where anything else is in the house yet," Liliana said, with a raised brow. "Where is everyone else?"

"Work," Giovanni said bluntly, turning his back on her to make himself a coffee. That wasn't a surprise. Marcello had no doubt been up at the crack of dawn and wouldn't return until midnight again - no wonder he had looked so tired yesterday. Did he always work so much? Marco, her eldest cousin, had never seemed so busy.

Was this why Marcello was so feared? Because he never seemed to rest?

What kind of life was that, to always be moving, and never taking a moment to rest?

"Angelo will be here all day. If you need anything, speak to him." This was the first time Liliana had ever spoken to Giovanni alone. He didn't appear to be a man of many words.

"Great," Liliana muttered. "A babysitter."

Giovanni smirked, "If that's how you want to look at it."

Liliana pursed her lips, grumbling, "I'm pretty sure that's the only way to look at it. I hardly need someone to watch over me." If this was there tactics to spy on her, she was unimpressed, it was hardly very subtle.

Giovanni turned, leaning against the kitchen counter with an espresso cup in hand, still smirking as if everything she said and did amused him endlessly. "I'm just relaying a message, nothing I can do about it."

"You think you're really funny, don't you?" She said hotly, taking a bite of her toast. The jam tasted bland and her stomach turned at the idea of food, but she forced herself to eat anyway. "Am I able to leave the house, or am I stuck here all day?"

Liliana hated having to ask for permission for something as simple as leaving the house, but she wasn't willing to risk the D'Onofrio's wrath if she left without warning. She and Marcello had already gotten into one argument about her 'gallivanting around New York'.

"Stay in today." Giovanni gulped back his drink, leaving the cup on the counter and headed for the door.

What excellent manners everyone in this family seemed to have. Could no one say 'goodbye', or a just quick 'see you later'?

So what was she supposed to do all day? Read a book or sit on her phone? She'd been doing that for the past two weeks. It was beginning to get a little repetitive. She was trapped here, with only Angelo for company - wherever he was - and she wasn't so sure that was a welcome swap from being alone with Marcello. She had yet to have a conversation with Angelo that didn't end in being insulted in some way or another.

Liliana dragged herself over to the kitchen sink, rolling her eyes at the sight of Giovanni's cup along with others left waiting to be washed. Did the D'Onofrio's not clean up after themselves? Aunt Adelina would never let her son's get away with something like that.

"La signora D'Onofrio!" A sharp feminine voice gasped. Startled, Liliana whirled to face a small dark haired women hurrying into the room with a frown marring her expression. Her face was flushed, hair tied back in a bun, and an apron was tied tightly to her front. She shooed Liliana away from the sink, uttering in a thick Italian accent, "You no clean, I do that."

"I don't mind," Liliana assured her, standing off to the side somewhat awkwardly as the woman immediately set to work. The poor woman seemed to have worked herself up into a minor panic. "Are you-"

"Sì, sì. I clean after breakfast," the woman assured her firmly.

"If you insist." Liliana bit her lip, deciding whether she should leave the poor woman alone. But she was happy to have someone to talk to, and not at all looking forward to another day spent alone. "What's you name? Come ti chiami?" She asked in English, and then again in Italian.

She hadn't seen any other staff working at the house yet, and she obviously hadn't been introduced to anyone other than the D'Onofrio's. Her aunt didn't have anyone working for them - they didn't need it in a house as small as theirs with all her children now adults - but Liliana supposed in a house this big it made sense to hire people to clean. At least they were providing jobs.

"Lucetta," the woman provided almost shyly, seeming meeker now the initial panic had worn away. She kept her head down but Liliana could see that Lucetta didn't appear to be hating her company. The woman looked pleased actually.

Good, maybe she didn't have to spend the day entirely alone after all!

Liliana was more than happy to chat away with Lucetta, even managing to convince her to let Liliana help dry everything. Lucetta hadn't been very pleased about it, and made Liliana swear she wouldn't tell Signor D'Onofrio. Liliana had agreed with a beaming grin. She knew marriages weren't meant to have secrets, but she was sure this one wouldn't be a problem. It wasn't like she could just stand there and watch Lucetta work, when not long ago Liliana would have been doing the exact same thing at her aunt's restaurant in Italy.

"Should I expect to see Gabriella or Sebastiano at all today?" Liliana asked as they were finishing up. Lucetta was sweeping the kitchen floor while Liliana wiped down the counters, and she had to hide her smile every time Lucetta tried to hide her displeasure every time Liliana did another thing to help.

"Signor D'Onofrio no here very much. He stay in Italy, now he no work." Liliana's brows pinched together at that information. She hadn't known Sebastiano had a home in Italy, or that he stayed there often. She had never heard her cousin's of grandfather mention it. Though perhaps it had never been important; if Sebastiano was no longer the D'Onofrio mafioso, he likely wasn't as much of a threat.

Liliana wanted to ask more about Gabriella. After everything Marcello had told her yesterday, she only had more questions. But she also didn't want Lucetta to tell Marcello or any of the brothers she had been prying.

Still, she couldn't seem to stop herself as she asked, "And Gabriella?"

"Signora Gabriella D'Onofrio no stay at manor when Signor is no here. She and Signor Marcello no get along," Lucetta winced. That much Liliana already knew, it was painfully clear to her how much Marcello despised Gabriella.

'Selfish bitch', he had called her. He had also confessed that Gabriella was not his mother.

There had never been any mention of another woman associated with the D'Onofrio's - not that Liliana could find when she looked them up, anyway. So she wasn't sure what to make of his declaration.

"I need to rest of jobs now." Lucetta, finished with cleaning the kitchen, left towards the foyer and Liliana was quick to follow along. The young woman headed towards the front door, where a stack of letters sat on a small table. They hadn't been there earlier this morning so someone must have delivered them.

"A letter for you, Signora D'Onofrio," Lucetta said, not hiding her confusion. The letter had no address on it and had clearly been hand delivered.

It was sealed with a wax seal, her name written in black cursive. Strange. She had only arrived yesterday, who else in America but the D'Onofrio's knew she was here? Without waiting for privacy she ripped open the envelope carelessly and unfolded the thick paper inside.

Liliana's eyes were immediately drawn to the large black letters written across the entire page, her body freezing ever so slightly and her brows furrowing.



Liliana wasn't quite sure what to make of it. She wasn't a stranger to anonymous letters, threats and blackmail; those kinds of things were to be expected given who she was related to. This however, left her stumped.

Lied to about what? And whom was this letter from?

"Signora?" Lucetta said, biting her lip as she glanced nervously down at the letter in Liliana's hands.

Liliana cleared her throat, "Just Liliana is fine. No need for formalities all the time."

"Sì," Lucetta nodded with a frown, and Liliana was sure Lucetta would be ignoring that suggestion. "You okay?"

Liliana forced a smile, the note in her hands crumpling slightly. "I think I'm going to my room now. I still have things to unpack. I'll speak to you later, yes?"

Lucetta's frown deepened, but the young woman let Liliana go without complaints.

Should she tell Marcello, or one of the other D'Onofrio's about this? Her instincts screamed no. If this letter was to be believed, and someone had lied to her, she didn't know how much she could trust her new marital family.

***

Regardless of whether Liliana wanted to tell Marcello about the letter, she never saw him that night. He didn't come into the bedroom, not even to change. If he came home at all that night, Liliana didn't know.

She didn't see him the next morning either, or for the following three days, and she had been told she was still to stay in the house. If she hadn't felt like a prisoner before, she did now. It wasn't like she was unaware of how grand the D'Onofrio's home was, or lucky she was to be living such a comfortable life, but she had no control over any of it. She was trapped at home because husband commanded it, she was married because her father has commanded it. She had consented to none of this, and yet she had no choice but to abide.

She had wandered out into the gardens frequently over the past four days, and had learnt quickly how guarded the property was. There would be no way of sneaking out. Then there was the fact that Angelo had finally made an appearance and he barely gave her a moment alone. She hadn't even been able to speak to Lucetta without being watched by him.

It was a glaring reminder that she wasn't trusted by them. What they thought she would do, or could do, was a mystery to her.

"What's on the agenda for today then?" Angelo asked with a wolfish grin, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulders.

"Let's see," she sighed bitterly. "We could hang around the house... or we could hang around the house. Take your pick."

"Oh come on, don't be like that Lil'," he said, shaking her slightly. "Don't you enjoy my company?"

"I want to go outside, Angelo," she groaned, dangerously close to stomping her foot like a child. "There's only so much to do here. I feel like I'm being punished, and I can't fathom why. Is this really it? This is my life now?"

"I know it's a bit boring-"

"It's more than just a bit boring! I feel trapped. I'm used to working every day, or socialising with people, being able to go about my day as I please without being locked at home with a babysitter. And just how long is Marcello planning on avoiding me?" She snapped loudly. There was no other explanation as to why she hadn't seen Marcello in so long, not for four days. He had to be avoiding her. "This can't be it! I can't do this forever!"

Angelo stared at her with wide eyes, the arm around her suddenly stiff.

God, he thought she was insane. Why couldn't anyone understand?

Liliana moaned pitifully, fighting back tears. She tried to hide her face in her hands but it was no use when Angelo was already so close to her. She felt his other arm move to embrace her, pulling her into his chest as she began to cry.

He awkwardly patter her back, his movements stiff and his embrace stiffer. She peaked up at him and saw him grimace.

"You're not very good at comforting someone," she huffed, weakly, aiming to be humorous but finding her tone to be too gruff.

Angelo breathed out a weak laugh anyway. "I don't have much experience with crying women," he said, pulling back to run a hand through his hair, looking away from her. The tips of his ears burned pink. "How about we go watch a movie or something? Movie and chocolate, that's what women do when they're sad, right?"

"I suppose." Liliana rolled her eyes. A movie and chocolate was hardly going to solve the issue of being trapped inside, but he was trying at the very least. She also realised it probably wasn't his fault she was locked away here; as Giovanni had said on that first morning, there was nothing he could do about this.

Marcello was the one at fault here.

At the sight of her still sullen expression, Angelo sighed, looking surprisingly guilty.

"Look, he's putting together a team of security for you. It's just taking longer than expected, I'm not sure why." He shrugged. "But it's not going to be like this forever."

She might have believed him if Angelo didn't sound so unsure. She had security in Italy - for when she attended an event or went somewhere with her cousin and grandfather. It hadn't taken nearly a week for Marco to organise.

"Come on," Angelo nudged her in a specific direction. "I guess I'll let you choose the movie."

Just over two hours later, the credits were rolling across the TV in the semi-darkness of the lounge. The curtains had been drawn, and Liliana was buried beneath an expensive looking throw.

"Well, that was... interesting," Liliana said drearily, sitting up with a yawn, her neck stiff. She had been curled up on the couch with her head on Angelo's shoulder and fallen asleep like that. She couldn't even remember what movie they had been watching in all honestly.

She had to admit, she was beginning to enjoy his company. And it wasn't like she had many options.

"You weren't even awake for half of it," he mused, reaching out to pat her head and flatten the wild curls of hers that had sprung up in her sleep. He pulled it away slowly, but only to rest against the back of the couch, fingers still playing with the ends of her hair.

"No, no, I was awake," she denied, smiling hesitantly, casting a glance towards his hand. "Julia Roberts met the guy and then they got together in the end."

"You've just described nearly all of her movies," he explained flatly, eyes brimming with mirth.

"Okay, so I was asleep," she conceded, rubbing at her blurry eyes and leaning away. "But I'm awake now, so what are we going to do?"

Almost instantly, his playfully amorous grin was curving across his lips. He waggled his eyebrows. "I already have a few ideas."

"I'm married to your brother." No matter how much I wish I wasn't. Liliana shoved his shoulder, slapping his other hand away when he playfully reached for her thigh. "Angelo..."

Wide eyed in faux innocence, he laughed, "I don't know what on earth you're thinking about Lil', I was just going to suggest another movie."

"And why don't I believe you?" She asked dryly, eyeing him warily.

"I'm just a harmless flirt," he assured her. But Liliana wasn't all too sure of that, not when he shifted closer. His eyes fell to her mouth and shifted away quickly, but not quick enough for her not to notice.

"Angelo," she said again in warning, feeling herself freeze up. Her breath hitched when she felt his hand at the nape of her neck, delving into her hair.

"Don't let me interrupt!" Marcello's icy voice snapped from the doorway. Liliana jerked back violently, swinging wide eyes over to Marcello only to flinch under the ferocity of his gaze.

Angelo was quick to his feet, almost falling over himself. His opened his mouth to object but was rendered silent, stepping towards Marcello but stopping himself, a hand frozen towards his brother mid air.

Marcello looked awful. He clearly hadn't shaved in the last few days, the thick stubble dusting his jaw was the first thing she noticed. The second was the deep stains beneath his eyes, and the wrinkles in his suit. Had he been sleeping in his office?

His jaw worked, and Liliana saw his hands flexing at his sides. He was trying to rein in his anger, but it was barely disguised behind a poor veil of indifference.

Liliana had never feared her husband before now. Not really. Not so much so that the sight of him set an icy feeling of dread seeping into her bones as she remained frozen where she sat, quivering in her own skin like an injured rabbit facing against a fox.

***

Marcello was hiding in his home office. There was no other explanation for it, and he knew how pathetic that made him seem.

He sat back in his chair, eyes burning as he ignored the throbbing pain in his temples, and too another gulp of whisky. The sight of his brother and wife so close together, looking so intimate on that damn couch, wouldn't leave his mind no matter how many glasses he had to drink.

The door to his office swung open abruptly, and Marcello glanced towards it leisurely, eyes unfocussed.

"You're drinking again?" Giovanni stood stiffly in the doorway, jacket in one hand and his car keys in the other, presumably having just returned home.

"Did I ever stop?"

Something flashed in his brother's eyes and Marcello wouldn't be surprised if it turned out to be disappointment.

"How's the wife?" Giovanni asked warily, eyeing the empty bottle on his desk.

Marcello only shrugged a shoulder, taking another long drink from his glass.

"Something has happened." Not a question, Giovanni was too smart for that.

"Ask Angelo," Marcello only grunted. Giovanni didn't bother to hide his frown.

"I told you that wasn't a good idea." Giovanni sighed, running a hand across his clean shaven jaw. He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him softly. Marcello recognised the expression on his younger brother's face. He had something to tell him, and Marcello wasn't going to like it.

"We found another note today."

"Another body?" Marcello's slammed his glass onto his desk, and he was surprised it didn't shatter under the force.

"No body this time. Just the note; threatening Liliana again."

A growl ripped from Marcello's throat, and even in his drunken stupor he had enough co-ordination to drag a hand roughly through his hair, tugging harshly at the thick strands.

The threats had began four days ago, and so far no leads had been found. Marcello's hand had been forced, and he'd had no choice but to keep Liliana locked inside, until he was sure he could guarantee her safety out in the city. He wouldn't take risks with her life.

He would have assigned Giovanni to watch her if he wasn't crucial to the day to day operations. Angelo was more expendable, even if something in his gut had warmed him against in.

He should have listened to his own instincts.

He'd never been in this position before; feeling so completely powerless. Any threats to him and his men were always dealt efficiently and brutally. They killed anyone who crossed them, and Marcello had gained a reputation for being far more ruthless than his father ever was as a result. Yet, now it was his wife who faced the threats, and he was helpless to do anything about it.



Q. Have your opinions on Marcello changed?