Eighteen: Diciotto [edited 01/04/21]

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Liliana was an idiot. A stupid, fucking idiot. 

What other explanation was there, for her behaviour last night? 

One touch of his mouth on hers and she'd nearly come completely undone; moaning and begging for more. She'd succumbed to his charms, his irrefutably sinful charms, and betrayed whatever morals she'd once had. Of course he kissed her just to shut her up. What other reason could there be, other than her husband was feeling horny and she was the only available woman for him to try his luck with.

Well, whatever the reason, Liliana wanted nothing more than to put it behind her. She couldn't allow herself to be used, simply to offer her husband some womanly comfort whenever he needed it.

Both Giovanni and Sebastiano greeted Liliana that morning in the kitchen, and Liliana was beginning to wonder just when it was that Sebastiano would disappear again. She didn't like having him around so much. He put her on edge. 

As soon as her figure paused in the doorway, the eyes of the two men were immediately drawn towards her. Giovanni's smirk was immediate while Sebastiano - demonstrating similar pleasure - beckoned her over to the counter with a nod at the empty chair across from him, a small smile barely playing the edges of his mouth.

"Good morning," Sebastiano welcomed, his strong voice light, portraying none of its usually dark timbre. He certainly seemed in good spirits. 

"Good morning," Liliana mumbled back, her eyes narrowed suspiciously at her marital family. She burrowed her hands in the pockets of her thick cardigan and shuffled over towards the clean marble countertop to prepare herself a cup of tea.

"La signora D'Onofrio." Lucetta was suddenly beside her, nodding her morning greeting as she wiped at the countertop. Her eyes dropped from Liliana's face and unexpectedly a soft blush rose up Lucetta's slender neck and coloured her cheeks. Liliana smiled gently,  uttered a polite greeting back, and then moved to join the men at the table. Giovanni was waiting for her when she sat down, eyes staring at her in mischief.

"Yes?" She asked in a tired and airy tone. As his smirk grew her lips pursed.

"Did you sleep well last night?" he asked, and from his tone Liliana knew there was hidden meaning behind every word.  

"Giovanni," Liliana warned tersely, not in the mood for any games.

He gave a gruff laugh and took a large gulp of his coffee. Without responding he glanced at his father, who was pretending not to pay attention to his company as he stared over at the far wall, still smiling.

"Giovanni!" she snapped again, a little too fiercely. A glance at Sebastiano proved that even her sharp, disrespectful tone wasn't enough to ruin his good mood. 

"I am greatly amused to inform you that you are sporting evidence of a truce between you and my brother. I never thought I'd see the day."

A sickly sense of horror crept through her, squeezing at her heart. 

How did they know? 

"I-" She cleared her throat. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play coy Principessa, no matter how hard you deny it, that hickey you have on your neck is undeniable proof," Giovanni laughed gruffly. Both hands shot up to her neck, her palms slapping against the tanned skin. She imagined by now her face was scarlet.

"It was a moment of weakness," Liliana gritted out, unable to compose herself as a deep feeling of unease gripped at her stomach. "It won't be repeated."

Giovanni's amusement didn't waver and Liliana had to swallow her frustrations. She had been so adamant in remaining strong and defiant against Marcello's restrictions, against this marriage, wanting desperately to cling to what little control and authority she had left. 

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