Tainted Faith

Twenty Six: Ventisei [re-written 17/05/21]

[RE-WRITTEN]

Liliana awoke that morning, not to the familiar sight of an empty bed, but to Marcello working beside her in bed. Despite this, she had been unable to summon enough energy to speak to him - she had barely been able to meet his eyes as she emerged from their bathroom after a cold shower, fully dressed and with every intention to avoid him for the day. 

The irony was not lost on her. The entirety of their marriage had been spent with Marcello avoiding her at all costs, and now, despite how irritated she had been by such behaviour, Liliana was to do the same. But, Liliana knew she could not bare to be in his company today, not until she knew more about her mother, not until she had confirmed Marcello had no part in this lie. According to the photographs, Emiliana Fiorenza had not died in hospital, days after her birth, but here, in the D'Onofrio manor. 

Liliana met with Giovanni in the kitchen, and speared him with a determined, narrow eyed stare. A tension coiled deep in her gut as she faced him, one that urged her to snap and throw around accusations that she had no possible way of backing up. She had to stay calm though, she couldn't let anything slip until she knew everything.  

"Where's my father?" She interrogated, offering no greeting. Her brother-in-law glanced up from the newspaper in his hands. Liliana only spared the foreign object a short glance, wondering why on earth he switched to the morning paper rather than the news articles on his phone. He folded the paper, throwing it onto the counter top and gave her his undivided attention.

"In the country, why?" Giovanni replied with a slow, measured tone, not giving enough information away at once. His brows furrowed as he looked her over, eyes lingering on the darkening bruises around her neck. The thick, finger marks in her neck had quickly turned a dark blue, which could only slightly be covered by her makeup. 

"Where is he?" Liliana asked again, tone growing sharp. She was tired of being drip fed the truth of her family history through these idiotic anonymous letters. This was her family, her life, and she wanted to know the truth. Today she would confront her father, and she would not leave until he told her everything she wished to know. 

Giovanni reached for the porcelain mug in front of him, taking a languid sip at his morning coffee, seemingly thinking over the question. Liliana  bit at her lower lip, in attempt to hold back any impatient remarks, as she glared.

"Despite Dad's promise to keep Antonio at the top, Marcello's banished him to some crappy little desk job for now," Giovanni drawled. "He's not been allowed to return home or to the Fiorenza house in Italy."

"So he's still here, in New York?" She could see the smirk growing on the edges of Giovanni's lips but it was wearisome and she knew it was caution not humour that prevailed in his hesitance.

"At the head office, I believe. I thought you wished to stay away from your father?" 

Liliana's arms crossed tightly across her chest, "I think it's time we sat down and spoke about this whole thing, don't you agree? It will do me no good to run from my problems, and I feel he owes me an explanation." 

Liliana tried her best to ensure nothing gave away the irritation pulsing beneath the surface at the thought of reuniting with her father. Things could never be rectified between them, not after the extent of his selfish nature was revealed. She was thankful for Barbato's brutal honesty, even if the truth had been hard for her to hear at the time. 

"Right." Giovanni picked up his mobile  and began tapping at the screen. "When are you wanting to leave? I'll need to organise it with your guards, and Angelo."