[RE-WRITTEN]

It had been two weeks since Liliana had been living at the Barbato mansion. In that time she had been spending nearly every day with Sophia - when Sophia didn't have classes, but even then sometimes Liliana accompanied her to look around the campus, trying to envisions herself as another student worrying about trivial things such as deadlines and overdue projects. Mostly Liliana and Sophia would spend their days going out to eat, and meeting with some of Sophia's friends who had welcomed her into the group with open arms. Thankfully, none of them had mentioned the security detail that followed Liliana at all times in public, one Barbato had been kind enough to arrange for her. While she needed her freedom from Marcello, Liliana was not stupid enough to forgo protection entirely. She was still a granddaughter of Valentino Fiorenza, and, as much as she wished to deny it, the wife of a feared Italian-American mafioso.

Liliana hadn't spoken much about Marcello to Sophia, and Sophia hadn't pressed the issue. Liliana hadn't seen Marcello at all since he had left her with Barbato, and she had sparingly had any contact with him via phone. It was always through text that they spoke, never through calls, and it was only the odd, strained message throughout the day. But, Liliana knew if she wished to keep this freedom for much longer, she could not ignore Marcello, she would have to keep in touch, however small.

At first it had started when Dr Isaac had called with the results of her tests. There had been no problems, all her results were negative, he just advised that she slept well so that her recovery could be faster. She wasn't sure why she had sent Mercello the message, he had most likely already been informed - the doctor had probably even rang him first. His response had been quick and abrupt - a simple 'Good.' - but it had been oddly followed by him asking about her plans for the day.

It was a simple enough question, though unexpected, and while Liliana knew it was most likely his way of keeping tabs on her - those last ounces of control he refused to relinquish - she imagined it was also to give him peace of mind. If they were messaging then he knew she was well and safe and in no need of his help or interference.

It had been just over a month, since Liliana became a wife to Marcello. As strange as it was, this was the best state their relationship had been in such a short time. Though, she supposed it would prove hard to argue with someone if they weren't actually there.

Liliana sighed, suddenly not liking the direction of her thoughts. It would do her no good to dwell on the first month of her marriage. Her situation had changed now, Mercello had showed signs of change and it wasn't fair if she continued to dredge up past issues. Her focus should be on the present, on how she would move forward with her life, and whether or not that life included a husband.

"You okay?" Sophia asked from beside her, as she drove them to the gym Sophia usually frequented. Liliana had never learned to drive in Italy, always chauffeured around by her cousins, and found herself a little envious of Sophia.

"Yeah... yeah I'm good, just still a bit tired," she murmured, eyes drifting to the black screen of her mobile. She still had heard nothing from any of her other cousins, or her aunt, or grandfather and since Roderigo had disappeared two weeks ago, he had not responded to any of her messages.

She missed her family, and it hurt to know how easily they had pulled back from her. The silence between them was painful. It felt as if she had been abandoned by all she had known and loved, and on the heels of such abandonment, came her father's lies and betrayal. It seemed now, all she had left was Sophia - and in some sense, the D'Onofrio's.

She bit her lower lip roughly, worrying the flesh between her teeth has her worries gnawed at the pits of her stomach. Where had Roderigo gone? Had the D'Onofrio's hurt him? Had he returned to Italy? Why was he not responded to any of her texts or calls?

Her fingers itched as she once again glanced down at her lifeless mobile. She ached to reach out to Marcello and demand answers from him, but what would she say? She couldn't outright accuse him of attacking her Roderigo. Even if it was true, she doubted he would admit it to her.

Perhaps she should reach out to the rest of her cousins? But then, if Marcello had done something to Roderigo, and they found out, she could be inciting an all out war; a war she would be stuck in the middle of. Given the rules of their life, her loyalty should now lie with Marcello, if a war did break out between the two families, she would have no choice but the stand by Marcello's side. Another reason, one whole self-absorbed prevented her from reaching out to them.

She didn't want to be the one in her family to concede and break the silence that had fallen between them all. She had lived with them for years and yet they had all been so quick to abandon her after the wedding. It hurt. She could be the bigger person though, maybe she had read the situation wrong, maybe...

Liliana didn't know what to think and soon she no longer had the time to ponder her next actions, as Sophia's car came to an abrupt stop.

Sophia's suggestion to attend the gym had been a welcome one. Liliana couldn't remember the last time she had exercised, and her diet had been terrible since her return to America. She hadn't been taking care of herself, and that needed to change. Hopefully an hour at the gym would give her a chance to clear her head.

Out on the sidewalk, Liliana and Sophia were about to enter the modern looking gym, when their path was blocked by a man exiting. Liliana didn't pay them much noticing, still glancing down at her phone, but when the man didn't move from their way, she finally glanced up.

Liliana felt her stomach drop when she spied the grinning face of Mercello's obnoxious cousin in front of them. He carried a large bag on his shoulder, dressed in loose joggers and a black fitted t-shirt, his black hair damp and tousled. Unlike the previous times she'd see him, it seemed he had just come from a workout so thankfully wasn't drunk.

Liliana squinted up at the burley man, barely managing the smallest of smiles. From beside her, Sophia huffed, and a small glance at her friend allowed an eye roll to pass between the girls.

"Hey, Dino," Sophia uttered, flashing a brief, sharp smile - all teeth with no real emotion other than irritation behind it.

"Morning, what are you two lovely ladies up to this morning?" he charmed with a teasing grin. Liliana adjusted the bag resting on her shoulder, trying not to let her irritation show.

Liliana cocked her head toward the gym doors, where Dino was currently stood.

"Right," he breathed, smirking. "And how's marriage treating my new cousin? I heard you were staying elsewhere at the moment? Problems already?"

The hand gripping at the trap of her bag tightened, and the false smile felt heavy on her lips. She definitely didn't want this man to know about her failing marriage, she imagined it wouldn't be long before Marcello's entire family knew. Something told her Dino wasn't one to keep his mouth shut. Neither Liliana or Marcello needed that right now.

"That's my fault," Sophia said with a laugh, waving off Dino's prying questions. The tension Liliana hadn't realised was there, finally eased from her shoulders. "I've stolen Liliana for a week to keep me some company while I visit my uncle. You know my uncle, don't you Dino?" She questioned with a sweet smile.

Dino tensed, and Liliana was pleased to see his smirk waver. "Well I feel sorry for Marcello then, I'm sure he's missing you greatly."

Both Liliana and Sophia only smiled tightly in response, until Dino was eventually excuse himself. Those smiles dropped to scowls as soon as his back was turned to them.

"I hate that guy," Sophia muttered, scoffing before pushing through the doors of the gym. "I always feel so gross after talking to him."

Liliana laughed, despite the unsettled feeling in her stomach. "I'd hoped the first few times I met him were a fluke, clearly he just acts like that all of the time."

"He's only like that because of the upset between him and Mercello. He can't get over Mercello passing him over and making Giovanni his second when he took control of the family business."

"Why did he think he'd get the position?"

"Sebastiano's brother, his second, is Dino's dad. The position is usually a generational thing but I suppose Mercello thought Giovanni was better suited when he took over. It's not the first time someone's been passed over like this, happens all the time with Uncle's business. Dino understandably didn't take it too well, but now he just acts like an ass all the time."

***

Later that evening, at a time when Liliana and Sophia would usually already be settled back at the mansion for the night, the two of them were arrived at a bar. As usual, the guards Barbato had hired followed behind closely, and despite how few people were there, Liliana was still thankful for it. After learning Liliana had never been to a bar for drinks before, even while still in Italy and legal, Sophia had quickly made plans with some of her friends to meet up.

Liliana had already met them two nights ago. She had been relieved to finally meet people who didn't know who she was, and who she was married to. It offered her a sense of normalcy that she wasn't used to. Especially after the countless people they had ran into in the past two weeks that Sophia seemed to know fairly well, all of whom had recognised Liliana as Marcello D'Onofrio's wife. It was exhausting.

The bar Sophia had selected for the night was drearier, and more run down than Liliana had expected. It seemed off, considering the wealth Liliana knew Sophia came from, one which rivalled - if not surpassed the D'Onofrio's wealth. Sophia could afford to spend her nights in the most expensive bars of New York, ones only open to the elite, and yet here they were in a building barely bigger than her bedroom at the D'Onofrio manor, hidden down the back of an alleyway as if it were too much of an eyesore for the rest of the street.

"What do you want to drink?" Sophia asked as soon as they reached the bar. Liliana easily spotted Sophia's friends crowded around the pool tables with drinks in hand. There weren't many others here, other than a few older men that kept to themselves at the other end of the bar.

"I'm only nineteen, remember?"

Sophia smirked and assured her that she knew the owner well enough for it to not matter, before leaning towards the barman and ordering something for the both of them. Sophia didn't wait for the drinks to be made, already dragging Liliana towards the others.

"Sophia!" One of the guys, Cal, cheered as he spotted the two of them strolling over. He held a cue in his hand, swinging it wildly to wave them over and nearly took off someone's head. A couple of others smiled over at her after Cal's exclamation but went back to talking amongst themselves.

"Hey," Paolo snapped, shoving his friend into the nearby table. "Watch what the hell you're doing with that thing."

"And you brought little Liliana," Cal grinned, ignoring Paolo entirely. Liliana rolled her eyes but smiled back, the guys had only met her once and already that nickname had stuck. She hardly needed the reminder that she was three years younger than them.

"Hey Cal," she greeted with a small laugh.

"Cal, stop getting distracted, it's your turn." Paolo prodded his friend in the back, hard enough to make Cal whip towards him with a scowl.

"Yeah, yeah," Cal huffed, flipping him off. He turned back to them again, asking, "You girls joining? I'm currently whipping his ass which is why he's so grumpy."

Paolo scoffed but quickly began grumbling as Cal took his next shot and seemed to effortlessly pot a ball.

"I'm all for making Paolo lose a bit of cash," Sophia teased. "Me and Lil' together, you can play with the loser Cal."

Half an hour, Liliana had escaped the group and found herself sitting alone at the bar. The guys had had her laughing the entire time so far with their antics, acting more like teen boys than the men they were. They reminded her an awful lot of her cousins though, and hanging out with them had only made her miss her cousins more. She was desperate to know where Roderigo had disappeared to and knew without a doubt that she wanted to see her family again.

She had already tried texting Roderigo again today, but he'd yet to respond to any of her messages. She'd since had a couple of drinks, and was already beginning to feel the effects. After all, she wasn't used to drinking much, and it took very little to affect her. It probably wasn't the smartest idea to message him again right now, but her phone was already out from the confines of her pocket, where it had remained all evening, and she was quick to message him again.



It didn't seem likely that she would get a response, especially not given her last message. She didn't regret the taunt though. He shouldn't have been ignoring her in the first place. Her only option now was to ask Marcello.



If anyone would know where Roderigo was, it would be him. She needed to know, if her and Mercello were ever going to be on even footing, that Marcello had kept his word and not harmed Roderigo.

"Uh oh," a teasing voice burned the tip of her ear. Liliana stumbled away from the intrusion, heavy eyes falling on the smirking face of Cal. "Boyfriend troubles?"

She'd been wearing her wedding ring all night. Either Cal hadn't noticed or he had merely passed it off as a meaningless piece of jewellery. She rolled her eyes as he staggered in front of her, catching the barman's attention for another drink.

"Something like that," she responded shortly, not wanting to correct him. It was highly likely that Cal would instantly recognise the name, Marcello D'Onofrio. She wanted to keep her marriage to herself for a little longer. Liliana had been enjoying her night so far, getting to know Sophia's friends, she didn't want her relationship to Marcello to ruin that. Sometimes she forgot that she was just an nineteen-year-old girl. The weight of her wedding band made her feel ancient.

Her phone began buzzing in her hands, capturing her attention away from Cal, who was leaning casually against the bar with a beer in hand. He didn't seem to be nearly as drunk as Liliana felt. It took her more than two attempts to answer the call as her fingers swiped clumsily across the screen, Cal only laughed at her.

"Liliana," Mercello's deep voice echoed through the small speaker of her mobile. Liliana hummed in response, her tongue feeling too heavy for words. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't expect you to respond so soon." There was a long pause.

"You're drunk." How had he known? Was she slurring? She didn't feel that drunk. How much had she had to drink? One, two, three glasses? "Where are you?"

"Oh, um, hang on. Where are we?" Liliana leant closer to Cal, nearly tumbling into him. Her mobile was held out between them as her hand grasped the edge of the bar tightly.

"The Alchemist," Cal replied, laughing at her deeply. "You don't handle your drinks well do you?"

"Did you get that?" Liliana asked into the phone, ignoring Cal. There was a silence across the phone. Had he hung up? "Marcello?"

"Who are you with?"

"Sophia, and some guys she knows." Her phone was silent again and after checking the screen she found that this time he had hung up.

Well that was rude.

"Is everything okay?" Cal asked, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. Liliana knew she was scowling as she shrugged off his touch.

What an ass. Why had he called so abruptly if he hadn't wanted to talk? The first time she hears his voice in two weeks and he can barely say three words to her. Typical.

"Yeah, just..." she sighed. "Boyfriend troubles, I guess." She was more annoyed about the fact that she was actually disappointed he had hung up.

Liliana was still stewing twenty minutes later. Though she'd joined Sophia and the guys by the pool tables once again, laughing occasionally when someone was shoved or accused of cheating, she didn't feel in the mood to be out anymore.

She had been lounging on one of the small couches, scowling down at her mobile when she heard Paolo curse loudly. The sound of a cue thumping against the pool table had Liliana's eyes darting up to the two men that now stood with their arms crossed and glares directed at the door. Liliana had almost stopped breathing when she followed their gazes and found Marcello stood by the door, with a glare to match.

The sight of him, in one of his expensive, tailored suits, seemed so wrong, in the aged doorway of the bar. She watched him scan the entire room quickly before his eyes fell to her.

Liliana leapt to her feet and immediately swayed, barely making it a couple of metres before Marcello was there in front of her - his hands grasping at her forearms as she lent into him for balance.

"What are you doing here?" Her tone was harsh as she frowned at him. This bar was no where near the D'Onofrio manor. She didn't look away from him as she leant closer, waiting for an answer. Marcello breathed deeply, stepping an inch closer as an arm wound it's way around her waist and pulled her to him.

"Am I not allowed to come for a drink?" He offered her a typical Marcello smirk, and she rolled her eyes.

"You know what I mean." She huffed, but felt the frown that marred her brows relax. She knew the alcohol was making her a little dazed and tired. Liliana allowed her forehead to rest against his chest, breathing him in.

"How much have you had to drink?" Marcello whispered in her ear, lips grazing skin. She shivered at the contact, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

She inhaled deeply, her own arms rising to hook loosely around his hips. The expensive material of his trousers felt nice against her bare arms, and she was enjoying the warmth of his body heat.

"You smell good."

"A lot then, I presume?" She could hear laughter in his tone, but that couldn't be right. Had Mercello ever laughed before in his life?

He was so serious all of the time. He needed to loosen up, relax. Maybe if he had a couple of drinks then he would feel as relaxed as she did right now. If they stayed like this for a little longer, Liliana genuinely believed she could fall asleep in his arms.

"You're her boyfriend then I assume?" Liliana turned, startled, to find Cal suddenly beside her. From the dark expression that encompassed Cal's face, Liliana was willing to bet that he knew exactly who he was speaking to. The sneer that marred his lips was noticeable to even her blurred sight. "What's a man like you doing, taking advantage of a young girl like her?"

The arm that curved around her waist tightened, drawing her closer into the heat of Mercello's chest as her hips fell in line with his.

"I'm her husband, actually," Mercello drawled with faint amusement. His lips were still so close to the shell of her ear that she felt them brush against the delicate skin. "You're one of Alessandro's?"

Alessandro's? Did that mean Cal was also mafioso?

"You've got to be kidding me," Cal breathed towards the couple. He gulped back the remainder of his drink and slammed the bottle carelessly onto the bar. "You're, what, twice her age? How did you two even meet."

She knew Mercello was irate, could feel it. He was terrible at hiding his anger. She couldn't see his face, but knew he would be scowling, not to mention the shift in his body language; his back straightened, shoulders tensed, and hands clenched at their place on her hips. He didn't like being questioned so bluntly.

"How old are you?" Liliana butted in without thought, turning to her husband with narrowed eyes. She was met with Mercello's expected scowl. His tension didn't lessen at her attention but at least he was no longer about to pounce on Cal.

"You don't know?" Cal questioned incredulously from beside them. Liliana nearly huffed. She wasn't prepared to witness a fight tonight. She wished Cal would just shut up.

Not taking her eyes from Mercello, Liliana explained, "I don't really care about the age," I haven't had the luxury of caring. "Does it really matter to anyone but us?" She speared Cal with a pointed look, lips pursed, feeling as though she were scolding a child. Her hand clutched Mercello's side tightly, head still laid against the muscle of his bicep.

"But you're so young and innocent, and he's-" Cal waved his hands at Mercello, seeming not to care about her husband's growing fury. Any regular man would be cowering under Mercello's gaze, even Liliana could admit how frightening the sight was.

"Excuse me?" Liliana bristled, a scowl quick to snap in place across her brow. She suddenly removed herself from Mercello and crossed her arms, a bad move considering how her body swayed. "He is human, you know." And standing right here you absolute idiota.

Cal, not expecting her scorn, looked shock. His wide eyes darted between Liliana and Marcello. Then, as if their conversation hadn't even happened, Cal's expression relaxed and a wide grin stretched across his mouth. Cal shrugged, explaining, "Well, can't believe the baby of the group has already gone and got herself hitched. Seems you've snagged someone quite high up on the food chain too."

"What-What was all that about?" Liliana fumed, arms thrown up in frustration.

Cal smirked, "Wanted to see how you'd react to be honest. Didn't know if he was keeping you hostage or something like that." He shrugged, "And well, if Sophia and the big boss are okay with this then I suppose I gotta' be too."

"Not that it has anything to do with you," she rebuked.

Her new friend laughed, a sound that had Marcello shifting in his feet. Liliana didn't find it funny.

"No hard feelings mate," Cal nodded at Marcello, but her husband only grunted back in reply. She imaged that translated to more than a few curse words.

"I think Paolo is waiting for you."

Liliana was able to breathe a sigh once Cal trudged back over to the pool tables, where Sophia and Paolo had been stood watching the three of them.

"That's who you've been spending the evening with?" Marcello grumbled.

"Yeah," Liliana breathed, "I know."

She had no idea why Cal had felt the need to 'test' them like that, as if his opinion would hold any wait on her personal life. The fact that Marcello had remained silent, and had allowed Cal to talk the way he did without repercussions, was baffling.

Aware of the others still watching them, Liliana turned towards Marcello. He was still scowling over at Cal as she reaching for his hand.

"Marcello," she called, holding his hand in hers and tugging gently until she had his attention again. "Why did you come tonight?

He swallowed, "Do I need to explain myself?"

Liliana's shoulders slumped and she pulled back, taking a step away from him. If he didn't want to explain himself to her, she wouldn't pry. A quick glance at her phone told her it was already past midnight. No wonder she felt so tired.

"Come on," she ordered, trudging over towards the sofa where Sophia already had another drink waiting for her. Marcello followed after with no hesitation, paying no mind to the short silence that fell across the group of people as he sat down beside her, arm rested across her shoulders. Soon enough Sophia's friends had lost interest though and the night was back to as it was.

***

Liliana and Sophia were giggling loudly as they stumbled their way inside Barbato's home. Liliana would have fallen flat on her face long ago if it weren't for Marcello beside her, allowing her to lean heavily against his side, and pulling her to her feet again every time she stumble upon a step.

Marcello hadn't touched a drop of alcohol the entire night and it seemed Liliana had made up for that fact by drinking enough for the both of them. She hadn't known how they got back to the mansion, but here they were, all but crawling up the humungous staircase as the girls headed back to their respective rooms opposing each other. Marcello continued to steady her until she was tumbling inside her room.

"Sit with me," Liliana demanded as she sank heavily into the king sized mattress. Marcello was just stepping into the room, the door clicking shut gently. Far more gently than Liliana had opened it. It was lucky Barbato was no where near this wing of the mansion.

"You're still drunk," Marcello responded flatly, shifting on his feet by the door, seeming unsure whether to leave or not.

"I not asking to sleep with you," she scoffed. "Just-" her hand hovered beside her for a second before patting the bed in invitation. "Sit with me."

Still he hesitated.

"Please."

Marcello sighed, shoulders slumping, and joined on the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and Liliana felt herself sway, the room spinning slightly. A grin instantly stretched her lips, regardless.

"Do you want to talk now?" Marcello spoke softly, looking away from her.

Talk? What was there to talk about?

"How old are you?"

Marcello sighed again, he looked tired. Liliana couldn't muster the energy to care. She was tired too but the room was spinning too much and she was afraid if she closed her eyes she would be sick.

"You really don't know?"

"I think I've had too much to drink," Liliana laughed. "I really don't remember."

"Twenty-four. Does that bother you?" He sent her a sideways glance as he took off his jacket and laid back against the mattress, getting comfortable.

"Does it matter? We're already married. Maybe it would be creepy if you were a random old guy hitting on me in a bar, but I can hardly fault you for any attraction you might feel now - after everything."

Marcello grimaced at the word 'old'. "There's no might about it. I am attracted to you. I have been since I first heard you speak."

Liliana's breath caught in her throat, and she was thankful that Marcello wasn't looking at her as a gentle heat seeped into her cheeks.

Clearing her throat, she uttered, her words still slightly slurred from the alcohol. "The first time you heard me speak I was joking that our marriage would kill me. And the next few times I was picking a fight with you."

"How was I supposed to resist?"

"I really don't care about the age difference," she said, repeating her words from earlier. Its not as if her opinion mattered anyway, she hadn't had a choice in this marriage. She found that thought somewhat sobering, her relaxed mood quickly shifting to something more sombre. "I'm nineteen," she said, a building tension thick in her voice.

She heard Marcello chuckle and frowned to herself, not understanding what he found so funny. Was he laughing at her?

"I know," Mercello laughed again, "Are you not tired?"

"No," Liliana lied, rolling away from him to hide the yawn that followed. With the movement, her hair fell into her face. It was beginning to irritate her but even the thought of moving to tie it up was too much energy. She yawned, arms stretching out until her fingertips brushed across Mercello's shoulders. She saw him shudder and then rise to sit up.

"Where are your makeup wipes? Pyjamas?"

Liliana shrugged, not really caring about either of those things right now. But she did feel too warm. Maybe she should change out of her jeans.

Marcello stalked over to her duffle bag over on the desk, where all of her day to day things were kept. She hadn't bothered to pack away anything but the new clothes she had bought. He was searching through it but she was too busy struggling with the button on her jeans to really care.

"What on earth are you doing?"

She had her jeans to her knees, trying to kick them off as she stayed laid down on the mattress. How did these usually come off? Mercello stepped closer, dropping whatever was holding beside her on the bed as he laughed and gripped the bottom of her jeans, tugging them away from her. Finally her legs were free.

"Thanks." Liliana grinned up at him. He didn't reply but smiled as she moved so that she was laid across the bed with her head on the pillow. Her eyes closed of their own accord though Liliana was kept awake by the sensation of fingers running through her hair.

"What are you doing?" She mumbled tiredly.

"I know you like to sleep with your hair up."

Liliana's eyes flew open and she saw that Marcello's face above her as he began tying her hair back away from her face. He was so close that she could feel his breath brush over forehead. He wasn't looking her, concentrating on her hair, and Liliana's sights settled on his lips.

Memories of the last time they had kissed filled her mind, and Liliana's blush returned. Of course, the last time they had kissed, they had also done far more. Would he kiss her back if she leaned in?

So what if she was drunk. What did it matter?

She sighed heavily and felt Marcello's hands move away. He leant back, frowning.

"What's wrong?"

"Just tired." Isn't that what she always said? Tired, tired, tired. Always tired. What a sad little life.

It was silent and Liliana's eyes fluttered closed. After another several prolonged moments of silence she cracked her eyes open in time to see Marcello pulling his jacket back on. He stepped back towards her, hovering for a tense second, until she felt the soft press of his lips against her temple.

"You can't leave at this time," she said, before thinking of what she was asking. Marcello regarded her in surprise. "It's too late to drive. You're too tired."

While it was true she had seen him smother more than one yawn while in her room, Liliana would be lying if she said she simply didn't want him to stay regardless.

He froze, perhaps deciding how to respond. All Liliana knew were the lights were still on and she was trying to sleep. She succumbed to her exhaustion before he even took his jacket back off.

***

Liliana awoke stiff, her mouth dry. She was buried under the thick bed sheets of one of Barbato's bedrooms, warm and unable to find the motivation to move. Even when she realised she wasn't laying upon the mattress but on a person.

She forced her eyes open, head shifting upon a bare chest, and was welcomed with the sight of Marcello with his mobile to his ear as he spoke quickly, deep laughter falling from his lips. She yawned, still feeling the effects of sleep, and flexed her left hand which rested on his skin, fingers tapping against his chest. The silver gleam of her wedding band caught her eye.

Marcello's gaze flew down to where she looked up at him, lips drawing taunt as the previous humour was momentarily lost.

"Sleep well?" he greeted, the hand not holding the mobile shifting - and only then did she notice that his fingers had been buried in her hair. She merely frowned up at him, nodding faintly.

"Mia moglie." His attention was captured and suddenly he was speaking in Italian once again.

My wife, he had said to whoever was on the phone. He laughed again.

"Era una notte tarda," his deep voice was so clear and there wasn't an ounce of exhaustion present.

It was a late night, he said, followed by the assurance that he would see whoever he was speaking to soon, and then the phone was down on the bedside table.

Liliana barely had the energy to sit up. But her cheek was burning against his skin and she couldn't stay sprawled against him for much longer, no matter how comfortable she was. She shifted, rising to a sitting position and Marcello's arm slipped from her shoulders. Her mouth as dry and her the movement made her feel queasy, but it was bearable.

She eyed him, unsure how the sight of him lounging so comfortable in her bed at the Barbato mansion made her feel. Did he not find this as odd as she did? She didn't mention that, instead asking, "Why are you fluent in Italian? Angelo and Giovanni aren't."

"How do you know that?" He asked.

"Well they never seem to catch on when I talk about them to Lucetta," she laughed. "Giovanni knows bits, some phrases, but Angelo, I know, doesn't understand much, and I've never heard him speak it."

"When Gabriella joined the family, she didn't pay much attention to me. I was mostly raised by the staff - most of whom were Italian, I think I spoke better Italian than I did English."

"You don't have an accent though," she mused. "You don't have an Italian accent when you're speaking English." When he was speaking her native tongue there was no denying he grew up with the language, but when he spoke in English, his voice held the familiar lilt of New York.

He shrugged, "Like I said, I grew up with both languages. What about you?" His phone buzzed against the wooden table but he didn't glance in its direction. Liliana did have an accent when she spoke English, not much of one but it was still recognisable. "I thought you grew up here and yet I would never have believed you lived anywhere but Italy if I was only just meeting you."

"My grandfather valued staying true to our roots. We didn't speak much English at home and most of our staff were Italian. My school was English speaking but my only friend wasn't and I took enough trips to Italy over the years that my accent stayed."

"It's so strong when you're shouting at me. Or drunk. It's when you're trying your best to be calm that I can barely hear it." His fingers brushed over hers. "I know that the staff like it when you speak, I see them listening sometimes. I don't think they approve of Angelo and Giovanni being so removed from their heritage -" he shrugged, "- not that it's their place to judge."

Liliana swallowed, fingers flexing as his light touch tickled against her skin. "I enjoy speaking to Lucetta, it's odd being back here where very little people speak the language after living in Italy with my aunt for so long. Who was on the phone, just now? Someone you work with?"

She brushed back the loose strands of hair that fell in her face, distancing her hand from his. He didn't say anything but didn't try to hide his frown.

"An old friend, he's been away on business for months and finally returned to the city. He wants to meet up later this evening." His voice was gruff. Clearing his throat and adjusting his position so he was sat up further, facing Liliana more, she noticed the bed sheets falling to his lap further, completely exposing his tanned chest. Liliana tried not to let herself stare.

Wetting her lips she asked, "Can I come?" She kept her eyes on his but it felt forced and from the quirk of Mercello's lips he no doubt knew exactly what she was struggling with. It was much easier speaking to him when they were angry at each other, she never noticed things like this much and now she was left confused and unsure how to act.

"I thought you wanted nothing to do with me?"

She scoffed, and corrected, "I want the freedom to choose. When you demanded I attend things with you they become an obligation - something I could never enjoy."

Mercello's jaw clenched. He nodded firmly and pulled back the bed sheet to stand to his feet. He was only in his boxers, his trousers and shirt folded neatly on the desk in the room. It didn't take long for him to dress. Leaning over his hand cupped the back of her head he placed a quick kiss on her temple.

"I'll pick you up at six, we'll be eating out somewhere nice."

***

Marcello barely made it two steps inside the manor before Giovanni ran into him. Emerging from the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, his younger brother gave Marcello a quick once over.

"Where were you last night?" Giovanni asked, frowning. "Coming home at eight in the morning in last nights clothes?"

"Where do you think I was?" Marcello grumbled. He continued towards his bedroom, aware that Giovanni was following him. He didn't need to see Giovanni's face to know he was smirking. Giovanni knew exactly where he had been. "Sophia and Liliana were drinking last night, I stayed with her."

Giovanni laughed, "Not that I don't love the fact that you and Liliana have become like dating teens with your little booty-calls, but how long is she going to stay at that place? Maybe those two shouldn't be spending so much time together."

Mercello scoffed, "Well you can been the one to let them know, because I sure as hell aren't splitting those two up. Sophia is the only friend she has, you really want to stop Liliana from seeing her just because you're still wounded over your breakup?"

Giovanni chuckled, not the reaction Mercello was expecting. The two of them paused as they reached Marcello's bedroom door.

"I don't care who Sophia socialises with, it hasn't got anything to do with me and I'm in no position to make demands. All I meant was, if Liliana becomes too accustomed to your separation, and her friendship with Sophia grows, then you might lose her entirely."

Two weeks ago, such a statement would have bothered Marcello. However, after last night, he felt more reassured. Allowing Liliana to stay with Alessandro seemed to have helped her attitude towards their marriage. There was no longer need for her to fight him, and they were able to converse without arguing.

He just needed things to speed along so that she could return to him.

Hearing her slurred voice over the phone last night, and hearing another man's voice with her, had urged Marcello into his car and across the city before he could even question himself. He had never acted so rashly before, but his wife had been drunk in some bar, with a man he didn't know, and he had panicked. Yet, when he arrived she had simply been sat alone, watching Sophia play pool with some of Allesandro's men, before rising to meet him as soon as she knew he was there.

She was well rested, far more than that first morning at Alessandro's, and grinning. Grinning. It was as if she hadn't even realised; and Mercello had found himself resisting the urge to grin right back at her at the familiarity of her. She was safe, and happy, and acting as any woman her age would. She'd spent the next few hours pressed against him on that tattered couch, laughing with her new friends, laughing with him.

He hadn't laughed that much with a woman in a long, long time and after that night he knew without a doubt that Liliana would return to him soon. He would make sure of it.







A different cover design, what do we think?