Page 9 of Wrath


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9

Liliana

This birthday is truly special. My grandparents flew all the way from Italy, solely to celebrate my twenty-first birthday and their gift is more than I expected - an all-expense paid trip to Athens, Greece for Nico and me. Unlike my father, my grandparents were happy that I discovered my soulmate early in my life, much like their own love story that has played out beautifully. My grandfather, Paolo Sr, has on multiple occasions, advised my father against appointing me as the family head, urging him to choose Luca instead. It wasn’t a lack of faith in me; rather, my grandfather recognized my aspirations beyond the confines of the mafia lifestyle and felt I deserved more.

To my dismay, my father refuses to listen to reason. Speak of the devil, he quickly approaches, accompanied by Antonio. Unfortunately, my grandmother was holding my hand out, showcasing my engagement ring for all to see. Every muscle in my body stiffens as he grabs my wrist and leads me indoors. The plan had been for Nico to be present while we announced our engagement to everyone and deal with the repercussions later.

“Have you lost your mind, Liliana?!” he bellows with Antonio closing the French doors behind us. I have no idea why he’s here but at the moment, I need to focus on how to handle this without Nico by my side.

“Father, please, let me explain,” I implore, feeling the weight of his scrutinizing stare. His demeanor is unsettling, with bulging veins and flaring nostrils, he’s downright intimidating. Despite the insistent vibration of my phone in my pocket, I choose to let it ring through to voicemail. While I can handle my father's unreasonable nature, the way he's glaring at me now suggests that answering that call wouldn't be wise.

“You’ve left me no choice, Liliana. While you were off playing house with Nico, Beneventi has been plotting to take over this territory,” he sneers, his voiced laced with disdain. “Antonio has been monitoring Carlo and our contact in his region has credible intel that he’s planning an attack on our family.”

My mind reels. Nico would’ve told me about this. Although we have an agreement to keep our family matters separate, he would not have withheld this information.

“I can't help but wonder if this is a ploy to keep Nico and me apart,” I challenge, bracing myself for the inevitable confrontation with my father. His tactics to separate us have been relentless, and I don't expect this time to be any different. A sense of unease washes over me as I catch Antonio shifting uncomfortably in my peripheral vision, heightening my suspicion.

“In the best interest of our family, I’ve arranged for you to marry Antonio. He will assist in leading and protecting our family,” he declares, without acknowledging my question. “Beneventi is hell bent on killing me and taking over our territory. I can’t allow that and I won’t leave my family unprotected,” he continues, leaving me incensed. Antonio clears his throat, saying he’ll give us a moment alone to talk and exits the room. We lock eyes in a silent standoff, both anticipating our next move. A surge of anger courses through me, mingled with a sense of betrayal.

“What makes you think I’ll agree to this ludicrous idea of marrying Antonio?” I retort, refusing to yield.

“What makes you think you have a choice?” He seethes, instantly shattering my resolve. And there it is —the control over my life that I fought so hard to maintain, taken from me in an instant. My heart sinks, as a tightness grows in my chest, restricting my breath. Was it foolish of me to believe I could defy my father, forging my own path as if it were that easy to walk away? Hot tears flow freely down my face as I stumble backward. All this time, I’ve prepared for this moment where I stand my ground, only to be a lamb put out to slaughter. This isn’t fair.

Realizing that my freedom to choose has been stripped away deals a crippling blow that I never anticipated. The smug expression of triumph on my father's face repulses me, leaving me without any recourse. Crushed, I utter the words I know will inflict equal pain and pierce his soul: “I hate you, and I'll never forgive you for this.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make because I would rather you hate me now, than mourn me without anyone to protect our family from Beneventi,” he says, his voice slightly cracking. “Now, go clean yourself up and look presentable. I expect you to be back out there in five minutes, celebrating your engagement to Antonio.”

As if that weren’t enough, he delivers one final blow,

“I’ll make sure Domenico gets his ring back and you are never to see him again. Is that understood?”

The lump in my throat makes it impossible to speak, so I only nod my head, acceptance gripping me in its vice. I stare after my father as he opens the French doors, feeling defeated. Just as I’m turning to head to the guest bathroom, the unmistakable sound of rapid gunfire freezes me in my tracks.

10

Liliana

Frozen in place, I'm paralyzed as screams split the air from outside, blending with the blaring sound system. My father's booming voice echoes, issuing urgent commands just beyond the door. This can't be happening, can it? Today was meant to be a joyous celebration of my birthday, filled with laughter and love. But now, chaos reigns. The urgent cries of my mother propel me into action, spurring me to reach her quickly. As I dash towards the French doors, her cries suddenly cease. With a sense of dread, I grasp the handles and fling the doors open, only to be confronted by a scene of unimaginable horror.

My mother lies motionless, clutching my little brother's hand, both lifeless. Luca, once eager to follow in our father's footsteps, now falls victim to the very life he aspired to. Time seems to slow to a crawl as my heart pounds against my ribcage. Bullets rip through the air, tearing apart my family's flesh, and I'm gripped by a paralyzing sense of helplessness.

Disbelief floods me, my eyes widening as I scan the open space, feeling bile rising, threatening to erupt at any moment. On the other side of the pool, my grandfather's body shields my grandmother's, but they’re both gone.

“Liliana! Run! Get back inside, now!” My father's desperate plea for me to move falls on deaf ears as I remain rooted to where I’m standing. Trapped in a nightmare, I watch helplessly as my family is torn apart.

Grabbing hold of my father’s arm, I beg him to take cover inside with me, but in an instant, I’m falling, still holding onto him as I’m splattered by a sickening spray of blood and flesh. My father, the man who raised me, loved me, and took care of me lies unmoving, his life slipping away in a pool of crimson that spreads warm beneath me.

“Daddy, please, wake up!” I plead, shaking him desperately, clinging to the hope of his survival. “Don't leave me! Please, I love you! I take it all back! I forgive you, just please wake up!” But my cries go unanswered as he slips away.

“Stop her!” Someone shouts, shattering my hopeless reverie.

“Lili! Help me!” My little sister's terrified scream pierces the chaos as she races towards me. With every ounce of strength left, I lurch towards her, but before I can reach her, a bullet pierces her back, sending her collapsing to the ground.

“Alexandria! Noooo!” I scream, reaching out desperately with my blood-soaked hands.

The world spins, pain rips through me, as I try to reach her. Gasping for air, I feel as though the wind has been knocked out of me. As Tomas, Carlo's Consigliere, emerges with a sinister smile, I collapse beside my sister. Gazing into her fading blue eyes, I’m overwhelmed by grief and despair, knowing that this is the end of my family. Drifting in and out of consciousness, my mind struggles to grasp the devastation surrounding me, while a familiar pair of eyes observe, anticipating my last breath. Unable to cling to consciousness any longer, I yield to the darkness, allowing it to rescue me from this nightmare.

Voices, so many voices speaking all at once as I drift in and out of consciousness. Someone is shouting orders while another voice tells them they’re working as fast as they can. Struggling to remain still, I slowly open my eyes halfway, surveying the carnage through the narrow opening. Every inch of my body throbs with pain, every nerve registering the ache. The air is heavy with the metallic stench of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder assaults my senses, churning my stomach. The grim reality of what transpired settles over me but I remain motionless, unwilling to draw attention to myself. The anguish of witnessing my family's slaughter eclipses even the agony of the bullet lodged in my side.

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