[RE-WRITTEN]

Liliana's knees shook, and it took all her effort not to drop straight to the concrete floor. She wanted to weep; she wanted to scream and shout and curse. Fists clenched at her sides, a sharp glare warped her expression as she set such a hateful expression on the man who now stood in the doorway. 

"You're working with him?" Marcello spat from behind her. She needn't turn to know he was sneering. She could hear Angelo and Giovanni fighting against their confines, cursed on their lips. 

"Nonno..." Liliana rasped, losing her voice all so sudden. Her feet shuffled backwards, bringing her closer to the D'Onofrio's and further from the door, until the back of her legs knocked against Mercello's knees and she realised there was nowhere else to go. Her mouth suddenly felt far too dry, and bile rose to the back of her throat.

Her grandfather, the man who had cared for her so diligently the past couple of years in Italy, met her shock with a smirk and not a single ounce of remorse in his expression. There was a gun in his hands, and splatter of red stained across his grey shirt. 

Valentino Fiorenza, as far as she knew, was supposed to be in Italy. Instead, here he was in America, standing in her home, amongst her family, as if it were expected. 

She watched him openly inspect her, his eyes skimming from her head to her toes; his upper lip curled. Liliana knew she looked positively feral. Like the last time she had endured an intruder in the D'Onofrio manor, she was covered in blood; blood from the attackers was splattered against her clothes, and her own blood coated her chin and neck from where she had been struck in the nose. She could feel her face throbbing and she could feel the skin tighten as her features swelled. Her hair was a ratty mess, loose strands tickling her cheeks ad neck, and her body felt clammy, covered in a cool sweat. 

"Why are you out of your room?" Valentino asked, like she was a small child that had simply wandered out of her bedroom past her bedtime. "I didn't want to involve you in this nipotina."

A disbelieving laugh cut across the basement as Liliana's glare hardened. The shrill sound was hollow against her ears; foreign, as if it had come from someone else, as if such a noise didn't belong on her lips. "You're holding my husband up at gun point and you didn't think it involved me?"

Her grandfather had the gall to huff and roll his eyes. "I never expected you to become as close as you are. I thought I had raised you better than that."

He hadn't expected her to become as close as they had?  No, instead he had expected her to keep her distance and fight against Marcello at every opportunity; he expected her to live condemned to a miserable marriage for the rest of her life. Just like her aunt, she was just another woman for him to manipulate and be used for the good of the Fiorenza men. 

Liliana wanted to spit in his face, a sour taste staining her tongue as she felt the growing disappointment pool in her stomach. There was no coming back from this. Valentino Fiorenza was a bastardo, a force to be reckoned with, a man Liliana wanted no ties to.

Whatever was about to occur in this basement, Liliana knew one thing was certain - only one of them could survive. She didn't want to live in a world where a man like this could exist. 

"And that warranted my death?" She hissed, aware that her mouth quivered with every word. "I barely survived the break in!"

Liliana knew it was better and safer to stay calm, to not encourage any fury from Valentino, but couldn't hold back her fury. She was so sick and tired of being used, of being shoved around by men who cared more for themselves at her expense. Her entire childhood, she'd been loved by both her father and grandfather, two men whom she had once held in high regard. They had cared for her as family should, until it seems, she was of no use to her anymore; they had only loved her, if it meant her compliance. And now that she was revolting against Valentino's command, siding with the D'Onofrio's, she had become nothing more than another issue for him to deal with.

To Valentino's merit, there was a slight bitterness that soured his expression.

"Yes," he heaved, unbothered by her rage, "That was a mistake on that man's part. I dealt with his whole team personally for their incompetence."

Liliana was under no allusion as to what 'dealt with' meant. She had always known her grandfather was a killer, another man in a long line of Fiorenza's who murdered and stole their way to the top of the food chain; but she had never been exposed to such side of his character. Her father and grandfather liked to keep her separated from their business; she had always assumed it was for her safety, now she knew it was to keep her ignorant.

"And Dino?" Liliana sent a withering glare to the man she'd held great distaste for ever since they'd met in Belize. At first it had only been petty irritation from his brazen attitude, but after this night, she despised the man. He dared to grin back at her. His smug aura was sickening. Turning back to Valentino she sharply asked, "You're working with him?"

Valentino shrugged, merely stating, "He's just a means to an end," before calmly raising his gun and shooting Dino directly in the centre of his forehead. The stocky man dropped like a heavy sack to the concrete with a dull thud. Liliana was too numb to even flinch.

"Why are you doing this?" Liliana somehow forced the words out, aghast, her hands shaking. The only thing that kept her standing tall against her grandfather's attention was the pressure of Marcello's knees digging into the back of her thighs, and she pressed herself painfully against them, desperate for the reassurance that she was not alone.

She was completely helpless, however. Valentino had all of the power, and he had already proven just how easy it would be for him to end them. Any time they had left to live, was merely borrowed time until he decided to put an end to whatever sick game he was now playing. 

"This family has been nothing but a disappointment to me," Valentino ground out. "The Fiorenza name, with a fierce empire behind it, has been revered for the last five decades until your pathetic father ruined it. I wanted him to come to America to acquire the D'Onofrio power not to bow before it. And Adelina's husband," he speared a glare at the men bound behind her. "He was a strong, loyal man, unlike your disgraceful father. Don't think for a second I don't know who murdered him."

Liliana couldn't hide her shock had she wanted to. Upon seeing this, a sadistic grin curved upon the old man's face. Crossing her arms, Liliana found her shoulders curving inwards, becoming smaller under his anger.

"The only thing your father ever did right was marry your mother. Even then he couldn't keep his hands to himself."

Gabriella. He too, knew about Gabriella. And yet, he had still pushed for her to marry into the D'Onofrio family despite the horrific history between them. It stood to reason then, that her grandfather knew everything - including the death of her mother and the D'Onofrio's involvement.

"His only redeeming factor was when he sired one of Sebastiano's bastardo children." Valentino scoffed, "I thought I could count on you to hold your own against the D'Onofrio's Liliana. You've disappointed me greatly nipotina."

Liliana barely had time to register her grandfather's words. She fought against the desire to turn towards both Giovanni and Angelo to find any familial resemblance in their faces, fear proving to be an excellent motivation to remain still.

Valentino slammed shut the metal door of the basement, and Liliana jumped at the loud sound, so startled that she shuffle back into Marcello and nearly fell into his lap. Valentino began to stalk towards her, each step slow and measured - it was a near perfect attempt to intimidate her, one that had her heart beating faster and faster with every inch of distance that closed between them. 

"Tell me, Liliana," he murmured when he was close enough for her to feel his breath. She shuddered when the still warm barrel of the gun slid across her neck. "Are you carrying a bastardo D'Onofrio child?"

Behind her, she heard someone's sharp intake of breath, and Liliana was sure that her heart had stopped dead.

"You know."

Liliana held deadly still at the mercy of her grandfather, not daring to move even an inch.

"I know you Liliana. You cannot hide things from me."

She felt his hand graze her stomach and immediately her skin was crawling. She couldn't stand to have him touch her, especially there. She hated the whimper that escaped her, and had to bite her lip to keep her silence.

"You bastard!" Giovanni snarled from behind her, though his voice was strained. She could hear his movement, and the sound of his chair scraping against the concrete floor until she heard something snap and the man groan.

Valentino didn't even bother to step away from her when he fired his gun, a bullet shooting behind her and, from the cry of pain, finding its target in Giovanni. This time Liliana did flinch. This time she didn't want to turn around, afraid of what would await her.

Giovanni was silent beneath the sudden roars of his brothers.

Without warning, Valentino shoved Liliana to the side, his strength surprising for a man his age. Liliana tumbled to the ground, her knees smacking painfully against the concrete, followed by her palms to protect her face from the impact.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" Marcello roared. He was pulling so hard against his restraints that Liliana honestly thought he was going to break his own wrists.

She could see them now, see them all again.

Giovanni had pulled his wrists free, but he was still restrained by his feet to a chair that had upturned. The mountain of a man was now pressed face first against the concrete, of which was now staining with his blood. She couldn't see where he had been shot, and the sight of Giovanni's chest moving as he took laboured breaths did little to comfort her. He was dying.

Giovanni was still dressed in one of his suits, he had been brought down here before he'd even retired to bed, and Liliana couldn't see any of his other injuries because of it. But Angelo... He had clearly been dragged from his sleep. The boy was only in a pair of navy shorts and Liliana could see every horrid thing that had been done to him. How long had the brothers been held down here, at the Mercy of Dino and Valentino?

Angelo was crying. Not great, soul wrenching sobs, just silent streams of tears drenching his cheeks as he stared in agony at his older brother crumpled on the floor. The tracks of his tears carved a path through dried blood. She could see the gashes on his face, some deep enough that she knew they would scar. And his leg...

Oh god...

His shin jutted at an unnatural angle, the flesh around it swollen and bruised already. How could he stand to sit there without a sound, without wailing constantly in pain?

"You're hardly in the position to be making demands," Valentino drawled, sharply drawing her attention. He and her husband were locked in a stare down; Marcello offering a dark scowl to his adversary.

"I'm going to kill you," Marcello threatened in a low tone, seeming unconcerned with the gun now aimed towards him. "I'm going to kill you for laying a hand on her."

It didn't matter to him, Liliana realised with horror, what Marcello faced. He didn't care how many more times he was beaten or shot, so long as she was safe. He would die if it meant he could put an end to Valentino.

Valentino didn't react to Marcello's empty threats, his expression frozen into a grin as he faced off against her husband. Because Marcello couldn't do anything. He was still tied to the chair, and from her angle on the floor she could see how bloodied and swollen his wrists were from trying to break the ties like his brother had. Even if he did get free, what could he do?

"I'm going to enjoy this." Valentino's words were cemented by a thunderous bang booming against the four walls of the compact grey room. Mercello instinctively jerked and the chair collapsed under his weight, his body slamming to the concrete beside Dino's body. Liliana screamed. She didn't think as she flung herself at her husband, the man who had just been shot and was now bleeding out.

"Marcello!" Hands pressed tight to the bullet wound in his abdomen, her husband's blood seeped across her fingertips. "Oh God, oh God," Liliana cried, keeping the pressure tight against him, hating the sound of his groans. There was so much more blood than there had been in Italy, this was so much worse. He needed help now, and a simple stitch up from the doctor wasn't going to cut it.

She still had her phone hidden in her pocket but there was no way of getting it, not with Valentino watching her so intently.

Liliana had to face facts. Sophia wasn't coming, help wasn't coming. It was her, cradling her bleeding, dying husband to her chest as his younger brother laid alone on the concrete floor near death, and his injured youngest brother watched on in horror. She could hear She could hear Marcello's grunts. Giovanni's wheezing breath above her sobs. And she could hear Angelo now weeping aloud. Yet no matter how much Angelo tugged and bucked from his position, no matter how much he strained against his confines, he wasn't getting free and he couldn't help.

Valentino had every opportunity to shoot Marcello dead, to put a bullet between his eyes and end it all in one. But the old man didn't want any part of this to be merciful. He wasn't here to just kill them. It was very clear to Liliana, that Valentino's goal was to make them suffer. He had already outlined just how much he hated the D'Onofrio's.

"Step away Nipotina," her grandfather commanded her, and he sorely mistaken if he thought she was about to listen to another filthy word that escaped his lips.

"I am not your granddaughter. You're a monster," she spat, fixing him with a snarl on her quivering lips, through a blurry narrow eyed glare.

Valentino dared to laugh at her. He truly was heartless.

"Barbato..." she could barely speak, her voice catching, "Was it you? Did you kill him?"

With Barbato gone it was just another empire that would crumble, leaving Valentino Fiorenza the strongest man in power. An attempt on Mercello's life had been made then as well. How convenient would have been for the old man if his two biggest rivals were killed in the same sitting.

"You're too smart for your own good," he grinned at her, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling, evidence of the years he had been such a loving, joyful grandfather. Fraud. Liar. Devil.

"Alessandro Barbato should have stayed in prison. Getting released was the worst thing that ever happened to him."

Stalking closer to her, Valentino didn't stop until his feet kicked at her folded knees. He swung towards her, the back of his hand slamming against her cheek and flinging her away from Marcello.

Liliana screamed as she landed half atop Dino's lifeless body, jerking away from him. 

Except, as she shifted, her hand knocked against the barrel of Dino's discarded gun. From the corner of her eye she saw Valentino leaning towards her and didn't think as her fingers curled around the weapon. It didn't register to her, until she met her grandfather eye to eye, their faces an inch apart, that the gun was now aimed towards him, that her finger itched at the trigger. It didn't register to her, what she was doing, until a gunshot sounded so loud that all Liliana could hear was a high-pitched buzzing and she was sure she was now deaf.

Liliana watched, wide eyed, as Valentino flinched, staring in disbelief at his granddaughter before scrambling back to take in the blood now seeping from his chest. Breaths heavy, Valentino dropped to his knees, hand clutching at his chest as if to stop the blood that was an endless pool seeping across his shirt.

Liliana didn't take her eyes away, she couldn't. She watched through every second that it took for Valentino to die, too afraid to look away should she turn back and find him on his feet again, a gun to her chest.

She waited until he drew his last, rasping breath before she turned slowly towards her husband once again. Pale and clammy, Marcello's face was pinched in pain, his eyes clenched shut as harsh breaths flared at his nostrils.

Liliana felt numb as she lent towards him, a hand once again pressing down on his wound. Even when the door to the basement slammed open and cracked against the concrete wall with a metal clunk, she could do nothing but glance towards the door with blank expression.

She felt so dizzy, as she took in the sight of multiple men filling the doorway. And her heart... her heart was beating too fast.

"Shit," Paolo cursed, the familiar Italian-American standing out to her amongst the crowd, as he immediately scanned the bloody mess inside the room. His loud exclamation sounded faint above the buzzing of her ears.

"Sophia!" Cal, another familiar man was just a step behind, shouted behind him, through the long corridor. Men - strangers - rushed into the basement and when one stepped too close Liliana flinched and blocked their path to Marcello and the brothers, the gun still in her trembling hand.

"Liliana," Paolo uttered softly, barely audible, his hands raising innocently so that his own gun faced up towards the ceiling. "We're hear to help okay, we-" his eyes darted to Marcello behind her. She saw his eyes widen a fraction, his throat bob. "We need to get them to a hospital."

Cal edged around them as Paolo spoke, heading towards Angelo. With a pocket-knife in hand, he cut the zip ties that bound the young D'Onofrio. Angelo was once again silent, though his tears were still very much visible on his cheeks. Cal didn't say a word to him, only pushing Angelo back into his chair when he stupidly tried to raise to his feet.

"Liliana?" Paolo called again, drawing her attention back to him.

The gun dropped from her hands, clattering against the floor. She shuffled out of the way, unable to find the strength to stand to her feet. Instantly three men were there, lifting her husband. She didn't watch as they took him from the room, nor as more men carried Giovanni and supported Angelo. She couldn't stop staring at Valentino's body only a foot in front of her, and Dino's body slumped beside her.

Liliana was still staring, frozen and numb, when someone dropped to their knees in front of her.

Sophia.

"Liliana, malishka..." Sophia gently grasped Liliana's chin, pulling her face towards her and forcing her out of her stupor. When Liliana finally made eye contact with her friend, the sight of tears in Sophia's eyes had Liliana all so suddenly sobbing. She flew into her friend's arms, holding her in a too tight grasp as her body shook violently with every sob that wracked her body.

It was over. 

It was over, it was over, it was over.

Liliana wasn't aware of how long Sophia held her on the dirty floor of the basement. She couldn't find the energy to rise to her feet, to leave the house and follow her husband despite the terror that gripped her heart at the thought of his injuries. What did she do now? What was there to do?

The thought of doing anything was too much.

Sophia pulled back, framing Liliana's face in her palms once again as she softly asked, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Sophia scanned her from head to toe but Liliana was once again staring over Sophia's shoulder, at the body left untouched.

"Liliana!" Her eyes snapped to Sophia's worried expression, but they were vacant of any real emotion. "You're covered in blood. Let me help you."

Sophia pulled Liliana to her feet and towed the younger women out from the depths of the manor to the main floor. Liliana's steps were heavy, her feet dragging behind her. There were small groups of men, unfamiliar to her, moving throughout her home. Many of them stopped to acknowledge Sophia yet their eyes lingered on Liliana.

She kept silent as Sophia led her upstairs to a bedroom. It took Liliana minutes to realise it was not her bedroom Sophia had taken them to - no doubt not knowing the location of Marcello D'Onofrio's bedroom - but Giovanni's bedroom.

Liliana had never seen the room before, but it was not unlike the man who slept there. The sheets were a plain navy that matched his curtains, the walls and desk bare of any belongings besides his familiar laptop laying closed on his desk. Overall it was cool, sleek, and impersonal.

Sophia rushed Liliana to his adjoining bathroom. Turning the tap on, she reached for Liliana's hands and began scrubbing them under the warm running water. Liliana watched, blinking slowly at the sight of her husband's blood washing away.

"Where is he?"

The sound of Liliana's voice startled Sophia. She stopped her movements to stare at Liliana's tear-stricken face.

"They've taken him to the hospital."

Liliana shook her head vehemently, snatching her hands back from her friend. Sophia reached out for her, but Liliana shuffled away, until her back hit the tiled wall of Giovanni's bathroom. Sophia stilled, eyeing her warily.

"No, no," Liliana murmured, "He doesn't like hospitals, he shouldn't - we have a doctor, I can call him-" Liliana pressed the palm of her hands eyes as if to fight off a bad headache that didn't exist. She didn't like this feeling, that seemed to scatter her brain and leave her feeling useless, lost.

"Liliana," Sophia uttered softly, her hand falling onto Liliana's shoulder. "He's going to need more than just a doctor."

"No, no, no..." Her knees gave out from under her, and Liliana dropped to the cold tiled floor, her legs curling into her. She was crying again.

"Is he going to make it?" Liliana's question was met with silence. "Is he going to make it?" She asked again, more forcefully this time.

She met Sophia's gaze through tearful eyes. Her friend's mouth was drawn tight, her expression solemn.

"Sophia?" Liliana cried, her voice cracking.

Sophia didn't answer.

Q. How much do you hate me for making you wait so long for another chapter? (Okay that isn't the real question, obviously what I really want to know is...)

Q. How many of you think Mercello's going to survive? And what about Giovanni? (He wasn't looking too good either)

Sorry this took so long, writing the last few chapters of a story is so much harder than writing the rest of it, I'm so afraid I'm going to ruin the story or just write a really lame, unsatisfying ending.