Tainted Faith

Thirty Nine: Trentanove [re-written 08/10/21]

[RE-WRITTEN]

Liliana was jolted from her sleep by the familiar feeling of her stomach turning. She was quick to her feet, her knees jolted beneath her sudden weight as she stumbled through the dark towards the bathroom. Within seconds, she was was hunched over the toilet, violently retching. 

At six weeks pregnant, Liliana was not enjoying the sickness that plagued her every day at such early hours of the morning. If this was what she was to endure for the following weeks, she was going to be exhausted in no time. Already she struggled to get through the day without needing a nap.  

After brushing her teeth more than once, she finally made her way back to the bed, barely stifling a yawn as she did. She was so exhausted, that it wasn't until she had buried herself beneath the bedsheets once more, that she even noticed Marcello's absence beside her. 

A groan dragged from her lips as she sat up and blinked drearily through the darkness of the room, as if expecting him to appear from the bathroom, despite knowing he had not been in there with her. According to the digital clock at her bedside, it was only 0:30am. Where could Marcello be at such a time, and why had he left her alone? 

It was then that Liliana heard murmuring from outside the bedroom door. Rising to her feet quietly, she edged towards it until she was only a few steps away, holding her breath as she listened. She could barely make out the muffled words but knew immediately that it was not her husband or his brothers, nor was it the voices of her assigned guards. The conversation was distinctly Italian.

Something was wrong; something was very, very wrong.

After all that had occurred between them, after the attack last time she was left alone in the manor, Marcello would not be so stupid to leave her alone again without warning. Not to mention, Marcello had been unrelenting in her safety these past two weeks after the shooting. For what reason would he have disappeared, and left unfamiliar men to guard their bedroom without her knowledge, knowing how triggering this could be for her? 

Liliana couldn't control the furious beating of her heart in her chest, so wild it was almost painful. Stumbling away from the door, she fell to her knees, silently curling into herself as her hands threaded through her hair and pulled at the strands. Already her breathes had grown ragged, and the sound of blood pulsing through her ears became distracting. 

What should she do? What could she do? 

"Shut up!" A voice hissed in English, loud enough for the words to cut clearly into the bedroom and reach her ears. From his accent, Liliana knew this man, whoever he was, was American. 

The sound of faint footsteps grew closer to the closed bedroom the door. She strained to listen further, but it was difficult for Liliana to hear anything else above the sound of her own pulse throbbing erratically until more voices could be heard.

"It's not like we will be caught," a thick Italian accent drawled. "We already have them all, it is just Signora Fiorenza, and she will not be of any use."

She froze, eyes widening towards the door as a deep seated sense of terror settled.

"And you know your orders?" The American's tone was patronising and cocky.

"Do not touch Signora Fiorenza. Do not let her out. We are only here for the D'Onofrio's."

If there was any doubt before as to the nature of these men's presence it had now been erased. They were intruding in her home and they were to be feared.

"Merda!" Liliana hissed to herself, muffled by her hands pressed tight to her mouth. She couldn't let them know she was awake. She needed to shake herself out of this horror, she couldn't remain here cowering for the rest of the night praying her family would not be harmed. She had to do something, anything.