Tainted Faith

Twenty Four: Venti Quattro [re-written 25/04/21]

[RE-WRITTEN] 

Liliana couldn't help but stare a little wide eyed at everyone at the dinner table. This was the first time she had sat down to eat with all three of the D'Onofrio brothers, since she arrived in America. To make the entire experience even more bizarre, Roderigo had joined them for the evening meal too. Roderigo sat to her immediate right, tense in his chair as he glared down at his plate. Both his jaw and cheek were pink and swollen, evidence of the fight between him and Marcello, not that either of them had acknowledged it. To her immediate left sat Giovanni, while Marcello and Angelo sat at the other end of the table. 

Despite her usual aversions to her husband, she felt at odds without him by her side at this family meal. There was a comfort found within their act of duality, she knew without question that he would be on her side when others were present.

Liliana was infinitely thankful that Sebastiano had not returned to the manor today as planned, but was worried that Sebastiano may now know why. As idiotic as Roderigo clearly was, and as much as she was annoyed at him, Liliana didn't want Roderigo to be harmed. 

"Are you okay?" Giovanni murmured beside her, noticing her expression. She hadn't said a word since she had sat down, no one had until now. 

"I'm just tired." I'm always tired. Tired of this house. Tired of you all.

Giovanni gave her a tight lipped smile that didn't reach his eyes. Did he feel sorry for her? Did he realise how draining everything was becoming? 

The sounds of cutlery against plates grated on her ears as silence resumed amongst them once again. Until Marcello cleared his throat and drew all attention to himself. He was staring right at her, ignoring the others as he said, "Your cousin will be coming out with us tonight, we may be back late. Perhaps you can go to bed early and get some sleep." 

Was this a set up?

Roderigo would not meet her eyes when she turned to him, the man now openly glaring at her husband across the table. Liliana's lips pursed as she turned back to Marcello. His dark gaze was still fixed only on her, and as if understanding her thoughts, he shook his head slightly. 

Liliana nodded once, tersely, and the silence at the table was not broken for the remainder of the meal. As soon as their plates were cleared, Liliana was the first one to her feet, escaping to the refuge of her room away from the tension between the men. 

The door to the bedroom didn't stay closed for very long; five minutes after Liliana had escaped, Marcello was joining her.

He acknowledged her with a grim, barely there smile and set about on changing his shirt. With every button that he undid, Mercello's eyes strayed towards her, seeming reluctant to leave but they darted away sharply before falling back.

"Yes?" Liliana encouraged. He looked away again, moving languidly over to her, his shirt undone but clinging to his shoulders, and perched on the edge of the bed. 

Cracking his knuckles, he murmured, "I wanted to talk more about your mother."

Liliana paused, taken back by the abrupt conversation topic. Their last conversation about her mother, and his, had been short and ended in uncomfortable silence. 

"I- I'm not sure what else there is to say. My father never spoke about her much," she explained, mouth suddenly dry. She couldn't understand what had prompted Marcello's curiosity, nor could she forget the anonymous notes she had received that suggested Marcello knew more than he said about her mother. Already she had discovered that their mothers had been friends, that Marcello had known Emiliana Fiorenza, even if he were just a boy at the time. What else did he know?