Liliana felt sick. Not in the physical sense that you felt from the common cold or a poorly cooked meal. More like the queasy, unsettling feeling you got in the pit of your stomach before something catastrophic was about to happen that she imagined mirrored the sensation of having your entire digestive system removed while still conscious. It was a deep sense of unease that dug deep inside you and was nearly impossible to ignore.

One day.

One day until she was to wed Marcello D'Onofrio.

Already she could hear the boisterous sounds of guests arriving, mostly those from Marcello's side of the family. Liliana didn't want to go out and greet them, and dread ate away at her knowing she would have to act in love with Marcello under so many watchful eyes - or at the very least as if she actually liked the man. How would they pretend to be a happy couple when she had been living in Italy for the past three years? Surely his family would see through the rouse instantly?

A sharp knocking against her bedroom door could be heard, its persistent presence ignored by Liliana as she continued to dress slowly. She already knew who awaited her on he other side of the door; her father. He had been knocking for almost five minutes now but she had been steadfastly ignoring him all week - the if he thought today would be the day she would break her silence then he was a fool.

"Liliana!" Her father hissed, his furious voice barely masked by the door between them. "People are waiting for you. Stop acting like a child!"

Liliana scoffed, slammed the hairbrush she was holding onto the vanity and made no efforts to constrain her anger. She opened the door with one furious swing and fixed her fathers beet red face with a fierce glare he had never seen the likes of from her. Liliana didn't care how mad he was, she was the only one with any right to be mad. And she was so absolutely furious - her fury growing steadily and strong since her first night on the island - at the sudden lack of control she seemed to now have on her own life.

All week she had been swallowing her anger. All week she had behaved as nothing but polite to her grandfather, to Sebastiano and the other D'Onofrio men. All week she had ignored the tears that threatened to fall every single second of the days.

Whatever anger her father thought he felt, was nothing in comparison to rage that trembled deep within her. He was only suffering now as a result of the careless mistakes he, himself, had made.

She was suffering because of him and him alone. And she would not forget that.

All week she had been at the mercy of others, forced to obey these men for fear of offending the D'Onofrio's and suffering the consequences of their unavoidable wrath, as her grandfather had reminded her.

Without a word, or even acknowledging her father, Liliana stalked past the angered man and headed towards the beach where she could hear loud laughter and faint music playing. Her heart raced faster with every step that brought her closer. She prayed her aunt and cousins had arrived, she needed their support more than anything. She knew her grandfather loved her unconditionally, but he stuck to his values and currently those values meant her loyalty to her fiancé. If she wanted someone to truly be on her side, she needed her Zia Adelina, Marco, Roderigo, Federico and Gavino.

As soon as she stepped out onto the hot, soft sand, she noted the loud chatter quietening considerably, and many eyes dart towards her. She now felt relived that she had spent most of the day preparing herself - even if it had been nothing but an excuse to avoid speaking to anyone for hours. She had to make an impression on Marcello's family after all, as she knew Sebastiano was expecting nothing but her best behaviour. Perhaps if she looked the part, it would be easier to remain silent for the entire evening and quickly escape to her bedroom once again. That was, after all, what all these men expected of a 'good wife'.

"Liliana," Sebastiano was the first to greet her, voice louder than all others as he approached her with one of his fearsome smiles. Those who had not already noticed her arrival, surely did now.

Her lips twisted ever so slightly into a strained smile as she nodded her head in greeting towards him. Seeming satisfied, Sebastiano's gaze flicked briefly behind her before he turned and resumes his conversation with whomever it was beside him. Liliana couldn't help the sigh of relief if she tried. She was thankful he had not wanted to speak to her, the older man made her uncomfortably nervous and it already felt as if she were full to the brim with nerves anyway. She wasn't sure she could survive a conversation with the unsettling man right now.

Suddenly, a hand brushed her bare elbow, and Liliana instinctively flinched away. To her horror it was Marcello that stood behind her, expression muted as he stepped closer to her. She didn't move, stiffening as one of his hands settled comfortably on her waist and the material of his shirt grazed her bare back. Her pulse jumped as his head dipped to place a gentle kiss on her cheek - her face flushing immediately.

"Good actress, you said?" Were his first words, his voice deep and quiet as his lips grazed her ear. "Glad you could finally join us.

She didn't respond to his small dig, instead her attention was captured by the sight of her father stalking out of the villa from behind them and making his way towards family on the beach. When she glanced back at Marcello, she noted the glare fixed on his face as he too observed her father. It seemed she was not the only one to hold distaste for Antonion Fiorenza at the moment. At least that was something they had in common.

"You look nice," Marcello bothered to comment, his tone disingenuous as he kept his gaze fixed on her father, who was now busy conversing with Zia Adelina. Liliana noted her cousins stood off to the side, also watching.

Liliana felt the hand that rested on her hip, rise to stroke the soft material of her dress, the action bringing a shiver to her. She saw the small smirk dare to tug at his mouth. That sight alone, of that male pride that fluffed his ego, had her irritation building in his presence once again. She'd almost forgot, for one short second, how infuriating he could be.

With a role of her eyes, she moved to step away from him, his hands falling away. Now she had his full attention.

"Where are you going?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"To see my family," she replied just as bluntly, nodding over at where her four cousins were stood isolated from the rest of the guests, talking amongst themselves and keeping an eye on everyone, including the newly announced couple.

Of all people here tonight, she knew her cousins would be most against this marriage. They had to know this marriage had been forced on her and she knew they would be sizing up her marital family already.

To her surprise, Marcello silently grasped her hand and allowed her to lead the way across the sand; unaware, or simply uncaring, of the stares that followed them. She faltered at the contact if only for a second before plastering a bright smile onto her face.

"Marco!" She addressed cheerfully when she was only a metre from the man - her eldest cousin at twenty-eight - forcing all sense of pleasantry into her tone.

"Little Lili," Marco beamed back, the falsity of his greeting all too apparent to her. He held his arms out wide and without hesitation, Liliana dropped Marcello's hand as if it were burning coal and leapt into her cousins embrace. Marco's arms curved around her tightly, his mouth hovering by her ear as he uttered discreetly, "Are you okay?"

Liliana nodded a subtly as she could into his shoulder.

"I'm surviving," she whispered and pulled back to place a chaste kiss on his cheek before turning to her other three cousins: Roderigo, Federico and Gavino.

Roderigo, the second eldest had always been a little more withdrawn than the other Fiorenza brothers and as a result he was probably whom she was least comfortable with, but given the situation she was more that pleased to have him here with her today. Federico and Gavino, both younger at nineteen and seventeen and closer to her own age, were more like brothers to her than the older two.

"Nice to finally meet you," Marcello greeted, holding out his hand for Marco to shake. Liliana noticed the tiresome expression on her fiancé's face, as if socialising with her family required more effort than he could summon.

Marco shook his hand firmly but only replied with a low hum of disapproval, in a way she was sure only he managed to make seem so disrespectful. To her surprise, Marcello didn't react. He simply reclaimed her hand in a tight grip, leaned in for another short kiss on her cheek, and nodded his goodbye towards her cousins.

"I'll leave you with your family," he whispered in her ear without further explanation, and Liliana was left to stare after him in confusion. Why he had bothered to follow her over here in the first place was a mystery, and to leave her with her family when he surely knew they all disliked him was odder still.

But she was grateful for the privacy he was offering, regardless if it was intentional. She didn't wan to have to pretend everything was okay, that she wasn't suffering, that she wasn't terrified.

Liliana's followed him as he stalked across the sand back onto the villa's deck where he joined his brother's and grabbed a drink. She could see Angelo and Giovana grinning with a small group of men she didn't know nor cared to meet but wasn't surprised as she took in Marcello's solemn expression. Perhaps he was suffering just as much as she?

"So," Gavino's voice drew her attention. He was the youngest of her cousins at seventeen, two years younger than herself. The sombre expression slapped on his face told her all she needed to know on his thoughts towards her new family. He didn't approve, none of her cousins seemed to. Well neither did she.

"Say everything you want to say now because you know my standing will change come tomorrow evening." It would have to. As soon as she was married there could be no doubt of her allegiance to Marcello. She would have to show nothing but loyalty towards her husband.

Frederico and Gavino scowled, while Roderigo crossed his arms stiffly. Marco only sighed with discontent.

Surprisingly it was Roderigo who was the one to speak up, his gaze focussed over her shoulder and no doubt locked onto her fiancé.

"We don't trust him. He's a dangerous man. Given half the chance he will ruin you, and yet we know that there's nothing we can do to stop this," Roderigo grumbled out gruffly. The many years of constant smoking was clear in his hoarse voice. Oddly enough he was the only one of her cousins that didn't drink. Instead of mulling around the bar like most men in her family, Roderigo could always be found outside alone and smoking as if no one else existed. She wasn't sure if swapping one addition for another was any improvement, but it certainly stood him apart from the rest.

All her cousins looked defeated, and Liliana knew right then that they had in fact tried to stop this. But like she, even they could not speak out against their grandfather - a man whom Liliana suspected still controlled the Fiorenza empire, even if Marco held the official title of mafioso.

But they had tried. For her, they had tried to defy him. That knowledge alone was enough to bring the smallest of smiles to her face.

"I'm tough, I survived you guys right?" Liliana tried to joke.

While her cousins could be just as brutish as any man involved so heavily in criminal activity, they were fiercely protective over the women in their lives - especially after the passing of their father over two years ago. The death of whom had come just after a week of Liliana living with them all in Italy. What she had experienced of him had been... terrifying. She was certainly glad such an influence was no longer present in their lives.

She couldn't help but wander what the D'Onofrio's were like in comparison. Marcello hardly seemed as family orientated, but then she supposed she knew very little of his character to make such a deduction. What she did know was that he was a ferocious competitor in the business world, from what she had read, and could thus only imagine how ruthless he could be when it came to his dealings within the mafia.

She would try her best to hold strong against him, but was ashamed to admit her growing fear of being battered again and again into submission against such a domineering attitude.

***

Marcello reverted to his usual silence as he stood amongst his brother's and cousins on the wooden deck of the villa. If he had a choice he wouldn't have been here at all, especially amongst his loud, obnoxious cousins that were two far into their drinks and laughing away like adolescents.

He didn't pay much attention to them, or his brothers that were content to go along with the jovial celebrations. Instead he watched Liliana as she interacted with her own cousins who had flown out directly from Italy that morning. She seemed questionably more comfortable in their company compared to her fathers - but perhaps that was simply because she had been living with them for the past three years while Antonio slowly worked his way into bankruptcy.

Though there was no denying the tension between father and daughter this past week. He was hardly surprised, Antonio was not a man he regarded rather highly, and he had done nothing but show great content towards his own daughter. Marcello suspected that was to do with Antonio's building guilt more than anything.

Marcello took pleasure in watching Liliana give her father the cold shoulder all week, frankly shocked that she hadn't reacted more violently towards the man. Again Marcello found himself missing that fiery personality of hers. Something had happened since they had first met, since she had first squared up against him. Now she was demure, obedient, quiet. And had been all week. Granted, they had spent no time together alone and away from the watchful eyes of their families, and he knew she had to present herself in a certain light as to avoid any suspicion or scorn. But he couldn't help wonder where that fire in her had gone.

Would she react differently when they were alone once again?

Marriage with Liliana could be immensely interesting. Marcello had a feeling he was going to have to watch himself carefully if he didn't want to suffer the scornful wrath of his angry Italian wife, should she decide to act out when no one else was around.

"You lucked out there, Cuz." One of his cousins, Dino, grinned at him, his drink sloshing in his glass as he lumbered over to Marcello. The maddening relative let out a low drawn whistle as he stared greedily across the beach over to where Liliana stood in a dress that showcased her legs and the tanned curve of her back.

Marcello didn't bother to hide his displeasure as he glared, eyes still fixed on his wife-to-be.

"She's a looker, and Fiorenza's only grandaughter at that. How'd you manage that? I have half a mind to fight you for her."

Marcello managed to tear his eyes away from Liliana long enough to stare impassively at his cousin. The new found attention had the obnoxious man shifting on his feet. Marcello nearly scoffed at the sight; no wonder the man didn't have a very high standing in their work, or a particularly favourable reputation. He resembled a mere frightened dog as soon as any form of confrontation presented itself.

"Careful," Angelo mocked, appearing from the side-lines with Giovanni in tow. "Marcello gets awfully possessive when it comes to his new woman. I'd leave her well and truly alone if I were you." His youngest brother was smirking mockingly, talking to their cousin but eyes never leaving Marcello. "She's got a bit of a bite too."

Some of the other men on the deck laughed heartedly. One of them - filled with bravery and stupidity from the alcohol to - exclaimed, "She already has you under her thumb?"

The increased laughter drew the eyes of many at their gathering, including those of Liliana and her cousins. He met that hard gaze of hers as she eyed him, nothing in her expression to indicate what she was thinking. But he had understood enough from the sight of her first stepping out onto the beach to know that she was not yet ready for their wedding tomorrow. As hard as she tried to hide it, there was no escaping that fact.

He hoped she readied herself quickly, because come tomorrow evening they would already be husband and wife. There was not anything that would change that fact.

In fact his father had pulled him aside this very morning to assure him of such. He had also taken the time ensure Marcello knew he would treat Liliana with nothing but respect and already Marcello could see how fond Sebastiano was of Liliana.

He didn't know what Liliana had done to achieve a place in the old man's heart but he was intent in finding out.