Liliana did her best not to grimace, all too aware of the many eyes that watched her as she tugged on her wrist held captive by one of the heavy handed D'Onofrio men. It was a man she recognised.

Of average height with slicked back hair, an overwhelming amount of cologne and a greasy grin, Liliana had identified him to be the obnoxious, intoxicated cousin that had been present at the wedding. Dino D'Onofrio, if she remembered correctly. He wasn't intoxicated tonight though, despite the alcohol she could smell on his breath, his dark eyes were sharp as they trapped hers in a staring contest she had no desire to be a part of.

Nevertheless, Liliana stood tall, taller than usual in her heels, and plastered a self assured smirk on her lips as she stared back defiantly, pretending to be unfazed by the man's rude behaviour.

"Come on," Dino goaded, voice thick. "I'm sure you can spare me just one dance, bella."

He sent a pointed glance towards the middle of the dance floor where many of the tipsy D'Onofrio relatives swayed merrily to the loud music. She'd already spoken to more than enough people tonight, many of which she was sure she wouldn't remember come tomorrow morning. Most of the introductions had been done back at their table as soon as they had arrived, and endless line of people coming to pay their respects to the 'great Marcello D'Onofrio'.

"I'd rather you unhand me," Liliana retorted dryly. Again she shook her wrist impatiently with a raised eyebrow but his grip remained tight as he tugged her a step closer. Liliana's eyes narrowed at the leer he didn't even try to hide. Beneath his slow attentive gaze her skin crawled.

Tight lipped, she urged, "I don't think Mercello would approve of how comfortable you're being with his wife."

He snorted loudly. "You think I give a shit about by cousin? If you knew enough about him, you wouldn't care either, bella."

"I think you should." Forcing a smirk onto her face, she added, "We both know your cousin is a powerful man."

His overconfidence began to crack, and his lips drew back into a snarl. The fingers wrapped around her wrist tightened quickly and painfully, before unfurling just a quick. Before she could blink Dino was whirling on his heels and storming off like a petulant child.

"What did he say to you?"

Liliana jumped at the unexpected grumble of her husband's voice just by her ear. Her cheeks immediately flushed with heat as his arms circled her waist and his chest brushed up against her back.

Turning her head towards him while keeping her eyes on the brooding cousin glaring their way from across the room, she murmured, "He just wanted to dance."

Brutally aware that all of Marcello's relatives still watched them, Liliana plastered on a demure smile and leant further into his embrace. It was a difficult task when all she wanted to do was tear herself from his arms and scowl.

"He seemed rather insistent for just a dance," Mercello's voice was a rough whisper. A hand came to rest on her own across her stomach, his thick fingers threading through hers clenching tightly. A warning.

And then they were swaying. They moved only slightly, just enough to be classed as dancing to the music blaring through the room, just enough to not raise suspicion about the new husband and wife.

Liliana swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes finding Dino's glare once again.

Dino had seemed awfully insistent for just a dance, though by his leer she knew he wanted far more than just that. Liliana wasn't a stranger to the unwanted attention of men. The men that associated themselves with the mafia were hardly known to respect women. She wasn't naïve. Many of them frequented strip clubs and prostitutes - many owned strip clubs and prostitutes. It was just another way to make money at someone else's expense after all.

"He does seem to be a rather obnoxious man. Perhaps he's had too much to drink again," she said. "He doesn't seem to like you all that much."

Mercello hummed, seeming all too at ease as he murmured, "Who does?"

Liliana stiffened in his arms but Marcello didn't react. They continued to sway, their feet locked in position, their hips barely moving in time with the music.

"He didn't say anything else to you?"

Why was he so intent on asking?

She wanted to turn, wanted to look him in the eye to see if she could read whatever it was he was thinking. But his hold on her was too tight.

"No." Liliana was thankful her voice remained strong.

Lips grazed her jaw, and Marcello's breath brushed against her ear as he spoke quietly. "We're leaving in ten minutes. I just need to speak to my father before we go."

She nodded in mute silence.

What was he hiding?

***

Liliana was in bed with her phone in hand, quietly watching the evening news highlights, while she waited for Marcello to finish whatever the hell he was doing. It was late, and she wanted to turn out the lights and go to bed.

Why he was even in here in the first place when he hadn't spent one night in here since they returned she didn't know. Why she still had to be here was equally baffling. The whole reason she stayed in his bedroom was to 'keep up with appearances', but that was hardly the case if her husband was sleeping in a guest bedroom every damn night.

Liliana was exhausted from the party. They'd been one of the first to leave but even the smallest amount of socialising had been a strain. His family was big, far bigger than hers back in Italy, and they all wanted to talk to her all the time. She'd barely had a moments peace. Now she was forced to stay away while Marcello moved around the bedroom grumbling to himself and slamming draws.

"Marcello," Liliana addressed softly, her eyes still locked on her mobile. From her peripheral she saw her husband turn towards her. She didn't bother to face him, knowing that a scowl would greet her. "Are you going to be finished anytime soon? Only I do wish to get some sleep tonight and you've been looking for a pair of underpants in the wrong draw for five minutes now."

"Yes, I see you're very intent on falling asleep as you watch whatever shit is on your phone," he snapped.

Raising an eyebrow in mild amusement, determined not to let his mood affect her, she turned just in time to see him finally snatch up a pair of boxers, slam the right draw shut and march towards their bathroom. The door was left open but she could no longer see him.

"It's the news actually, unless you consider that to be shit," she called out.

"Sì."

Ass-hole.

Liliana bit her tongue to keep back her sharp retort and kept her focus on what she was watching.

'Alessandro Barbato... Eighty-three... Released from prison... Key figure in the Italian mafia... Missing evidence... Mistrial.'

She probably should have paid more attention; it certainly seemed like important information considering who her husband was. But all she could focus on was her damn husband still making far too much noise for this kind of time.

She was getting pretty damn tired of his attitude. Sure, she wasn't the easiest person to get along with, especially when was determined to dislike someone - and she was definitely determined to dislike her own husband - but he clearly wasn't even trying to be civil at this point. Condemned to this marriage was one thing, condemned to such an attitude was another.

Marcello re-appeared in only a pair of pyjama bottoms. She turned to him immediately, noting the still stony expression as he glared at something on top of the dresser.

"Can you put your shit away instead of leaving it out all the time?" He snapped.

"What are you even talking about?" she huffed.

"That shit." Marcello gestured over to the dresser, and Liliana followed his gaze towards the photograph of her mother she had leant against her books, and the azure broach she had worn tonight laying beside it.

"It's a couple of things." She rolled her eyes, patience becoming short. "I don't have a photo-frame and the broach doesn't fit in my jewellery box. It's too nice to just have it rolling around in my bedside drawer. I don't want to damage it."

He grunted, a muscle in his jaw jumping as grabbed the broach and stomped over to his side of the bed. Liliana watched baffled as he threw the broach at her, and an empty black rectangular box from his bedside table.

"Put it in there."

"Thanks?" She wasn't sure what else to say as he pulled back the bedsheets and climbed into the bed, his back towards her. Was he actually sleeping in here tonight? She'd rather he didn't.

"The room stays tidy," he ordered sharply. "And are you going to turn that off?"

Her phone, of course, she'd almost forgotten it was still on.

'Barbato set to be released in three days...'

Before she could grab the discarded phone to turn it off, Marcello had it in his hands. He sat up, hunched over as he stared at the device.

"I take it you know him?"

Marcello's lips thinned as he roughly rubbed his palm across the scruff of his jaw. When his eyes met hers, she wasn't sure what to make of his dark expression. "You don't?"

"No, should I?"

He didn't answer her. Instead he was out of the bed and grabbing his clothes, the bathroom door slamming behind him. When he emerged he had re-dressed in his familiar suit and hard scowl, his mobile pressed to his ear.

The bedroom door slammed behind him too.

***

Marcello sat in silence as he faced his brother in the dimly lit lounge. Not an inch of his body could relax as he perched stiffly in the large arm chair, fingers tapping against the worn leather.

"Why am I only just hearing about this?" He snarled.

Giovanni sat opposite on the couch, forearms resting heavily along the length of his thighs. Unlike Marcello he was undressed, only in a pair of sweatpants, and he seemed irritated to have been pulled from his bed so late.

"You knew this was a possibility," Giovanni hissed. "I've been hearing murmurs about this for weeks and they other families were growing restless. No one is pleased that he's out, it's not just us."

"This is about more than just some rivalry between Alessandro and our father, Giovanni. You know that. Allegiances may shift once he's out. We can't afford that right now." Not when Liliana's is being threatened.

"I know." Giovanni's mobile pinged and he frowned down at the phone as the screen lit up the room.

"What's the matter with you? You've been irritable all day," Marcello asked sharply, all too aware of the irony. It wasn't lost on Giovanni either as he raised a brow.

"Liliana and I ran into Sophia today."

"Oh?" Marcello's mouth twisted.

Giovanni's frown deepened into a scowl. "What are you thinking?"

"That the timing of that seems far too suspicious for it to be merely coincidence." As far as Marcello was aware, Giovanni hadn't spoke to Sophia in more than a year - not that he bothered to ask. Nothing with that woman was ever coincidental.

Interesting.

Q. Who do you think Alessandro is?