"Papà..." Liliana breathed, completely and utterly aghast by his suggestion. Except she knew it was more than just a suggestion; her papà would not bring it up if she had a choice, he would not even dare to ask this of her had it been a choice. Ultimately, whether she liked it or not, she would be marrying the man by the name of Marcello D'Onofrio. Her papà had been wrong to compare such a thing to his relationship with her mama. This was not an arranged marriage, but a forced one.

Liliana had heard all about the dreaded D'Onofrio heir during her time in Italy. The D'Onofrio family hadn't resided in Italy for eighty years, yet the name was still feared as much as it was respected. She had heard frightful stories of citizens' untimely deaths at the suspected hands of the D'Onofrio's, just like she had heard tales of the good fortune that they had brought to those keeping within the carefully placed rules of the mafia family.

They were no more powerful than her family, whose empire still stood strong in Italy, but they were not her family, and they did not love her so. They were strangers to her, and already she feared the ways in which they could treat her should she do anything they deemed wrong.

The D'Onofrio's consisted of Sebastiano D'Onofrio — the head of the family — his wife and their three sons, Marcello, Giovanni and Angelo. They ran a successful chain of hotels as a front for the far more illegal side of business, and though Sebastiano was no longer officially in control of such he was still viewed as the leader. Liliana assumed he would retain that image until death. He was older than her papà by only a few years and from the last photograph she had seen he didn't look a welcoming man. The deep, consistent scowl and hard lines creasing his face suggested he never smiled, and his bulky body indicated just how dangerous he could be even without a weapon.

His youngest son Angelo was usually seen most in the media, mostly in relation to court cases that all suspiciously fell through before any real damage could be made and was by far the most public of the D'Onofrio sons. He was older than Liliana by one year at the age of twenty and inherited his father's dark hair and natural tan.

Giovanni, however — the middle child — was not someone that could be spoken long about. Apart from his image popping up in the media every now again and the occasional rumour that had circulated between her cousins, there wasn't much Liliana knew. He, while still as attractive as his brothers, was gifted with brunette hair which he usually kept closely shaved.

Finally, there was Marcello D'Onofrio. There was no doubt in the small community of her home town that he would be every bit as heartless and merciless as his father. Already he had begun to expand the D'Onofrio Empire and he had only been in power for just short of a year. His appearance was far more frightening than attractive despite his sharp features, olive skin and thick, obsidian hair, and his reputation with women was practically non-existent. He was already married to his empire, so much so that it led Liliana to question why the hell her papà wished for her to marry him in the first place. Surely Marcello had not agreed to such absurdity?

"Papà, you cannot be serious..."

"Liliana," he whispered her name in a tired tone. "I don't need an answer right now, just please think about it."

Why was he lying to her? She could see the pleading glint in his eyes. Antonio Fiorenza was desperate. He needed her to agree to this marriage, so why was he giving her a choice?

"But Papà," she argued, her voice becoming forceful. She wasn't one to back down, and she would not allow her papà to avoid such a serious conversation. "The D'Onofrio's are a dangerous family. Mamma died because of her involvement in your work, was that not why you were so eager to allow my return to Italy? Surely you don't wish the same fate to fall on me? I can't possibly marry a man as cold as Mercello, I will be miserable and an easy target for anyone wishing to hurt the family!"

"Liliana!" her papà snapped, a sharp glare overcoming his features. It was not often he raised his voice to her. "I do not wish to argue with you about this. You will either accept the marriage proposal from Mercello D'Onofrio or not."

"Except it's not really a choice, is it?" she snapped back. "It never is when it comes to your line of work. What will happen if I say no? Will my life, your life, be on the line?" Liliana's blood was bubbling in her veins; she could feel the burning heat in her cheeks and the sting of tears waiting to fall.

Betrayal. That's what this all consuming feeling of rage and shame was. Betrayal from the man she had trusted most.

Her father's eyes were narrowed tightly, a snarl on his face as he directed his full fury upon his only child. She had never seen him like this before, showing her just how crucial this marriage was. She had called him out and now he no longer had any room to lie. They were both painfully aware of the little choice they had left. She could either sign her life away to the hands of the devil or not live at all.

She knew her papà's dealings in the underworld would come back to strike them one day. She had been naïve to think she could ever escape such a fate, when so many women before her had suffered the same situation.

Her heart heavy, she lowered her gaze to the detailed grains in the wooden desk, her fingers following the lines slowly as she summoned the will to speak.

"If it is your wish for me to marry then I shall Papà." The words were like acid on her tongue. She had been unable to speak without her voice breaking under the grief weighing on her spirit. All excitement of returning home would forever be tainted by this moment. Clearing her throat and swiping at the rogue tears wetting her cheeks, Liliana stood - keeping her eyes downcast as she left the room without another word.

She couldn't be around her father now, not after such a breach of her trust.

He spoke of wanting to keep her safe and yet here he was placing her into the hands of one of the largest mafia families in existence. The D'Onofrio's were at the centre of all violence, and only a fool would willingly become involved.

Liliana followed the faint music leaking from the front of the villa where she knew the lounge to be. She needed to talk with her grandfather about this. Maybe he could enlighten her on the full situation.

"Did you know what I was walking into Nonno?" She called out dryly as she was neared the doorway, bitterness colouring her tone. She scoffed and shook her head. What a hellish way to start a vacation. "Should we plan my funeral now, or save money and wait till after the wedding, so my new husband can pay for it?" No tears were falling now but her eyes still stung, and her heart still ached. She couldn't even imagine what kind of mess her father had gotten into to have caused this chaos.

She had been kept separate from his work over the years, learning to not ask questions. It was ironic that after so many years of turning a blind eye to her papa's work, acting ignorant her whole childhood, she would be cursed to pay his debts just as she entered adulthood.

Again, Liliana sighed before lifting her head high and pulling back her shoulders. She was a Fiorenza. She was strong, and she would endure this like many women had before her in this situation. She wasn't the first woman placed into a forced marriage by her father and she wouldn't be the last.

But marrying a man she didn't know was one thing, marrying a man like Marcello D'Onofrio was an entirely different prospect.

When she entered the room, Liliana had expected the sight of her grandfather's grim smile but instead she was greeted with was the grim faces of four incredibly familiar men. They were all dressed sharply in suits and ties - despite the scorching weather. Everyone but her grandfather stood to their feet at her entrance.

Liliana could feel the blood drain from her face as she stared frightfully at the impassive faces of the D'Onofrio men, who had no doubt heard every word of her joke. In the centre, beside her sitting grandfather, was Sebastiano. He had fixed her with a scrutinizing stare the minute she had walked into view.

"Ciao, signor D'Onofrio," she greeted weakly and shuffled forwards, instantly embarrassed by her earlier words. There was now no way she could now hide her distaste towards the marriage she had only just been informed of.

"Please," he waved off her formalities with what she could only imagine was meant to be a comforting smile. However, the intensity of his dark eyes betrayed the friendly attempt. He was still sizing her up, deciding what to make of her. "Call me Sebastiano."

"Si, Sebastiano." He grinned, baring his teeth in a none too gentle manner and gestured to the grown men beside him, all of which were allowing their eyes to trace over her tense form as they too sized her up.

"My sons: Giovanni, Angelo and of course Marcello." Liliana barely glanced at the first two, her gaze immediately drawn to her husband to be. His expression seemed less than pleased as he stared at her beneath a pair of dark, no doubt expensive, shades. Liliana pursed her lips and held back any sarcastic comment wanting to escape.

"Marcello. Of course." Her grandfather coughed, fixing her with a warning stare. "Scusa," she apologised, not meaning it at all. "As you can guess I'm feeling a little... surprised by your sudden presence." Surprised, horrified, two seconds away from hurling up my breakfast.

"I understand. But Marcello felt it was best to become acquainted as soon as possible. After all, it is natural for the groom to want to be around such a beautiful bride as yourself." Sebastiano stalked forward and enveloped her in a tight hug. With his lips beside her ear she felt him whisper warningly, "I expect only good things from you, Liliana."

The dark mood passed as soon as he stepped back and that misleading grin was stretched across his aged face once again. The weight behind his words remained, however, and Liliana wouldn't be fooled by the man's faux kindness.

After a tense moment of silence, her grandfather finally spoke up. "Have you talked everything through with Antonio?" His gaze was worried, and Liliana was relieved to see that at least one person was still on her side. She could always count on her grandfather to be there.

"Si, Papà and I shared plenty of words," she answered dryly and noticed the slight smirk on Angelo D'Onofrio's face as he stared out of the window, pretending to be interested in something outside. Everyone else remained visibly unamused.

She wanted to roll her eyes; if she wasn't killed by one of the D'Onofrio's enemies first then she was sure she'd die from boredom in this stiff family. It was a serious line of work they all partook in, but that didn't mean they had to remain so stoic all the Goddamn time, did it?

"I'll go unpack and get changed into something more comfortable," she looked the men up and down. Angelo and Giovanni were missing their suit jackets, and their shirt sleeves were rolled up but Marcello was still decked out in what she assumed were his business clothes. "I'll give you all a chance to do the same."

"Arrivederci," she called out as she turned sharply on her heels and hurried the heck out of there, a deep scowl already darkening her expression.

"See you later," Sebastiano repeated firmly in English.

***

Marcello was sat on the deck of the villa, his shirt unbuttoned, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he contemplated the news of his upcoming nuptials. It had been only been two days ago that his father had requested to speak with him on the matter. And while the meeting had been nothing but professional, what his father was asking of him was deeply personal.

He couldn't imagine why Sebastiano D'Onofrio wanted his heir to be married so urgently; it certainly had nothing to do with the merging of the D'Onofrio and Fiorenza business' as he had claimed. Marcello knew the desperate position Antonio had been in. His father could have taken the Fiorenza company easily.

Instead, his father clearly had an ulterior motive at play, one he was sure would pan out just the way Sebastiano D'Onofrio intended.

Liliana Fiorenza.

It was an exceedingly enticing name that matched an exceedingly enticing woman. He'd seen a picture of her before meeting today; she was young, cute, but nothing to get caught up about. Yet, after seeing her face to face, he realised the photograph hadn't truly done her justice. It had to say something if a man was not attracted to his own wife, and thankfully Marcello had been intrigued the moment he laid eyes on her - it would certainly lesson the burden of such an unwanted marriage. He just prayed her personality did not suffer in comparison to her looks.

Behind him, the door to the villa opened and shut swiftly, and Marcello was gifted with the sight of Liliana stalking across the beach with purpose, completely unaware of his presence. His eyes followed the sway of her hips and drifted down her bare legs as her feet sank into the soft sand. Sitting out in the shade didn't seem as peaceful any more.

"Perving on your wife already?" Giovanni appeared behind him without warning, placing two glasses of whisky on the table. Marcello rolled his eyes as his younger brother pulled out the opposing chair, obstructing his view of Liliana now spread out on her back sunbathing.

"We're not married yet." But they would be soon, much sooner than he would have liked. There was no way around it though, his father had demanded they marry within the month.

"Don't let Dad hear you talking like that; he probably wants a baby before the end of the year." Giovanni teased, sipping at his drink. Mercello grunted, shifting in his seat and reaching for the drink Giovanni had set before him. He clasped the cool glass in his hands, bringing it to his mouth and tipping back the burning alcohol in one.

"He's the one who arranged it all, he knows we don't know each other," he grumbled. "He can't be naïve enough to believe we'll have children within a year, if at all. We may not even like each other."

"Who's to say you wont fall in love?" Giovanni replied, smirking to himself - no doubt amused at the thought of his stony-hearted brother head over heels for a girl.

Marcello scoffed. "I don't do 'love'."

"Well isn't Liliana a lucky woman." Giovanni's heavily sarcastic tone had Marcello chuckling to himself. The sound of the door opening and closing once again, caught the two brothers' attention. "Watch out, Angelo's on the prowl."

True to Giovanni's words, the youngest of the D'Onofrio trio was now sauntering across the beach towards Marcello's fiancé, a cocky smirk already in place.

"He'll back off if he knows what's good for him," Marcello grumbled, rising to his feet. Angelo was always looking for trouble and, in this case, Marcello had no problem putting him in his place.

"Like he can resist annoying you. If you stop getting so frustrated, then he'd stop the teasing."

Marcello didn't believe a word of it. Angelo would never stop creating havoc in his life; it was just his way of having fun. He wouldn't have Angelo chasing after Liliana when she was his wife, though.



A little bit of Mercello's view at the end their. From now on every chapter is going to end with his point of view. What do you think so far? Let me know in the comments :) [26/06/17]

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Editing these chapters means all my inline comments have disappeared which is sad because I loved reading you guys' responses to each paragraph. So please, don't forget to comment on the chapter and let's see if we can get the inline comments going again! [08/12/20]