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⊰ 14.5 | 2 ⊱ The Devil We Know: Part 2
⊰ Marcel ⊱
As I stand in the doorway of our bedroom, I take one last lingering look at Mercy’s sleeping form. She looks so fragile, so broken, curled up on the bed, her hair fanning out across the pillow. The sight of her like this, so vulnerable and shattered, it tears at something dark inside me, a painful reminder of my own failures, my own shortcomings.
I pushed her to this point.
The thought haunts me as I force myself to turn away, to close the door softly behind me. As much as I want to lock myself in the room with her, to lay with her, to hold her, the night isn’t over yet. With the looming threat of Luciano and now the CIA breathing down our necks, I have to reconvene with my family, to figure out our next move.
But as I make my way downstairs, each step feels like a mile. I know what awaits me in the parlor—the judgment, the anger, the bitter reality of the mess we’ve found ourselves in.
I’m only seconds awa
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