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⊰ 10 ⊱ The Price of Protection
I lay on my side, curled up in bed, the soft fabric of Marcel’s t-shirt caressing my skin. The comforting scent of him envelops me, but it does little to soothe the turmoil raging inside my mind.
I can’t believe I was so naive, so trusting. Ben and Pablo, the man I’d come to consider friends, colleagues…they’d been lying to me all along. They’d managed to slip right through Marcel’s security, through all of our defenses, and I’d let them in without a second thought.
How could I have been so stupid?
The worst part is I actually thought I finally fit in somewhere. I actually let myself believe that I belonged. Did they ever need me? What was the point of bringing me in on the project? If they’re CIA, I’m sure they have all of the resources they need right at their fingertips. Why play the cruel joke of bringing me in and making me feel like I mattered?
The thing of betrayal cuts deep, especially when I think of Ben. The way he’d g
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The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 11 ⊱ Immunity in Ink
The midday sun streams through the windows of my study, casting a warm glow on the polished wood of my desk. I sit motionless, staring blankly at the file in front of me. The ultimatum Agent Gallagher gave me yesterday weighs heavy on my mind.With trembling fingers, I flip open the cover, the rasp of paper against paper unnaturally loud in the stillness of the room. The thick stack of documents and photos seem to mock me. Every fiber of my being aches to dive in, to uncover the secrets Marcel has kept hidden from me for so long. But even as curiosity gnaws at my insides, I resist the temptation.He doesn’t want me to know. He doesn’t want me to see him like this.His trust in me, his unwavering faith…it’s a precious gift, one I can’t bring myself to tarnish further. By agreeing to this meeting with the CIA, I’ve already crossed a line. But to violate his wishes, to pry into the dark corners of his world that he’s so desperately tried to shield me from…
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 12 ⊱ Drowning in Silence
I sit at my desk, staring blankly at the computer screen. The cursor blinks mockingly at me, a bleak reminder of the unfinished assignments and looming deadlines that have been piling up, threatening to bury me alive for the past two weeks. I’ve been spending all of my time in the lab, working with Ben and Pablo, and everyday, I feel a bit of myself chip away. Each time I step foot into the room and have to sit there, pretending that I’m not constantly thinking about the truth behind the masks they wear, I want to scream. By the time the day is over, I hardly have the energy to carry myself to the shower, let alone study. I can’t do this anymore. With a heavy sigh, I open a new tab and navigate to the university’s student login portal, my fingers trembling slightly as I fill out the form to withdraw from the semester. Each click of the mouse feels like a nail in the coffin of my academic dreams, but I know I don’t have a choice. I can’t keep pretendi
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 13 ⊱ Silence Between Heartbeats
I sit at the edge of the bed, my fingers twisting anxiously in my lap as I stare at the closed bathroom door. The sound of the shower running echoes in the room, a steady patter of water against tile that does little to soothe the anxiety churning inside me. It’s Friday afternoon, and like clockwork, Marcel is finishing up his daily workout, washing away the sweat before diving into whatever duties await him for the rest of the day. It’s a constant, but today, the familiar routine feels different. “If Marcel hears this from anyone other than you, he might never trust you again.” Santiago’s words replay in my mind in a constant loop. I know he’s right, that I need to come clean to Marcel before it’s too late. But the fear of his reaction, of the anger and betrayal I know will be boiling inside of him, it’s almost enough to make me falter. Please, God, let him understand. Let him forgive me. The water shuts off, and I hear the
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 13.5 ⊱ Hour of Reckoning
⊰ Marcel ⊱ I stand before Mercy, taking my phone from the dresser and slipping it into my pocket. She sits on the edge of the bed, her fingers twisting anxiously on her lap, her gaze downcast. The silence between us is heavy, a tension that’s been lingering in the atmosphere since I stepped out of the bathroom just a few moments ago. Something’s wrong. I can see it on her face, the way she won’t meet my eyes. My brows furrow, concern mingling with a growing sense of uneasiness. “I… I withdrew from my classes,” she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling like a leaf in the wind. For a moment, I merely stare at her, stunned, shock and disbelief coursing through me. She did what? Slowly, I shake my head, irritation sparking in my chest. “Why didn’t you talk to me about it first?” Tears glisten in her eyes, and I can see the guilt and pain etched onto her face. “I’m sorry,”
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 14 ⊱ Ashes of a Dream
Content Advisory: Depictions of mental health crisis, substance abuse, and reckless endangerment. Reader discretion is advised. The wailing of police sirens pierces the night air as I sit frozen behind the wheel of my car, my heart pounding in my chest. I see police officers out of every window, guns pointed at me as red and blue lights flash in my rearview mirror, a dizzying kaleidoscope that makes my head spin. Or maybe that’s just the alcohol and the THC coursing through my veins, the intoxicating haze that had seemed likesucha good idea at the time. What the hell was I thinking..? The thought echoes in my head as I stare blankly ahead, my hands trembling on the steering wheel. In one hand, I clutch a bottle of my favorite cheap screw-top wine. In the other, a dab pen. I take another sip from the bottle, the sickly sweet liquid sliding down my already numb throat, before bringing the pen to my lips and inhalin
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⊰ Marcel ⊱ I sit in my office, my head in my hands, the weight of the world bearing down on my shoulders. The silence is deafening, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall, a mocking reminder of the time slipping away, the distance growing between us with each passing second. How did it come to this..? The thought echoes in my mind as the memory of the look on Mercy’s face lingers. I can still see the fear and regret etched into every line, the tears glistening in her eyes as she confessed her betrayal. This CIA deal, the immunity offered in exchange for taking down Luciano… it’s a knife twisting in my gut, a bitter pill that I can’t seem to swallow. How could she go behind my back like this? How could she make a decision that affects us all without even talking to me about it first? Do I really want to know the answer..? Anger simmers beneath my skin, a familiar heat that threatens to con
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 14.5 | 2 ⊱ The Devil We Know: Part 2
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The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 15 ⊱ Unbreakable
I lay in bed, my eyes closed but my mind wide awake, listening to the soft rustling of clothes as Marcel moves about the room. It’s late, or maybe it’s early—I’ve lost track of time, the events of the day blurring together in a haze of fear, anger, and desperate relief. The exhaustion weighs heavy on my body, but my thoughts refuse to quiet, racing with the consequences of my choices. I hear him approach the bed, each footstep a comforting yet terrifying reminder of his presence. The mattress dips as he slides in beside me, the warmth of his body radiating across the sheets. For a moment, I stay still, my breathing even, not ready to face him yet. With everything that’s happened, everything that could have happened, it feels like there's a physical pressure on my chest, a burden I’m not sure I’m strong enough to bear. Suddenly, I feel his strong arms around me, and he pulls me into him, his steady heartbeat thumping against my back as he holds me close. The scent of
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