Sixteen: Sedici [edited 30/03/21]

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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.

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