Thirty Five: Trentacinque [re-written 20/07/21]

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[RE-WRITTEN]

Liliana stood comfortably at the edge of the expansive hall, feeling fierce in her entirely black ensemble. The black floor sweeping skirt, with a slit that climbed dangerously high, was light and comfortable and had her feeling oh-so powerful as she strut in her matching black heels. She had bought the outfit more than a year ago but had never dared to wear it until now. She knew the neckline meant that the faded bruises across her throat were visible for so many people to see but she didn't care. Let them whisper and speculate about her, the marks were evidence of her strength and her survival. She wouldn't be ashamed of them.

Before they had left her aunt's home, Marcello had made it perfectly clear just how much he approved of her outfit. As soon as she had emerged from their bathroom, he had been unable to look away, his eyes roving across her legs that appeared leaner and longer in her heels, to where her skirt hugged the curve of her hips and the exposed tanned skin of her midriff that her simple black top revealed. And as they entered her Valentino's home, his fingers had grazed that exposed skin as he curved an arm around her waist.

Her outfit would serve to do more than just distract her husband however. She wanted her grandfather to see that she was no longer the little girl that he knew. Liliana wanted him to see the women she had been forced to grow into due to the decisions of patriarchal figures who cared more for power than for family.  She was a woman, a wife; not the daughter and granddaughter Valentino knew.

The number of guests here tonight astounded her. Liliana had not been included in such an event of Valentino's before, she had not known what to expect; usually she had stayed at home with her aunt, too young to be invited. At the time she had assumed her aunt had stayed behind to offer her company, she had not realised it was due to Adelina and Valentino's fraught relationship. 

Everyone was dressed impeccably, in expensive tuxedos and luxurious gowns. Tonight, even Marcello was dressed in what seemed to be a tailored black tuxedo that fit him perfectly and accentuated his slim, muscular build. Why he had packed such a thing for their short trip, she wasn't sure, but it was a good thing he had. 

While she had not attended one of Valentino's evening parties before, she had been in his mansion many times; tonight, however, would hopefully be the last. Most of the furniture in his grand hall had been cleared to make room for the extensive guest list, but some couches and chairs remained for those who preferred to sit and talk rather than work the room. 

Her cousins had already greeted Valentino as soon as they had arrived, and Liliana couldn't understand how they must feel to work under such a man - a man who had caused their beloved mother such pain. She hoped, unlike most men in the mafia, they did not agree with Valentino's actions and his sexist treatment of his own daughter. Perhaps Marco was simply counting down the days until he could cease Valentino's position at the top? 

While Marcello was stood at the temporary bar, collecting their drinks, Liliana was left to watch the room alone. No one approached her, though many openly stared, and she noticed those that surrounded her husband at the bar offered him a wide berth. But she didn't bother to watch Marcello and wait for his return, instead her focus was singled on Valentino as he spoke to a small group of men on the opposite side of the room. He had cast her numerous glances since their arrival but had yet to seek her out, and Liliana had refused to approach him. 

After all she had learned from her Zia about her grandfather's character, she couldn't find an ounce of effort to care, she was no longer in a loving mood towards him. He had willingly allowed his own daughter and grandsons to live in an abusive household - he had pushed them into such a life. It was only with the murder of Adelina's husband that the family had been free from his tyranny. Liliana doubted very much that it was her grandfather who had pulled the trigger. If it was her grandfather who had condemned his daughter to such a fate, Liliana saw no reason as to why he would free her from it.

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