As I make my way through the hallways of the mansion, I can’t help but dwell on how much has changed. The once lively and vibrant walls of our home now feel somber and heavy, weighed down by the grief and anger that permeate every corner.
It’s been three weeks since the brutal murder of Guillermo and Valentina. Three weeks of watching the man I love grapple with a pain and rage so profound, it’s slowly but surely consuming him. Just last week, Marcel decided it would be best to keep the family together until Luciano has been dealt with. Now, our home is a full house, with Santiago, Alessandra, Levi, his girlfriend Eboni, and their one-year-old daughter Isabelle all under our roof.
Just one big happy family…
I pause outside the media room, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. The door is slightly ajar, and I can hear the soft murmur of voices from within, playing from the TV. Gently, I push it open, stepping into the dimly lit space.
Alessandra
As I sit in my study, nestled on the plush couch with my favorite book in hand, I can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. It’s my birthday, and yet, the day has passed like any other. I had hoped that at least today, I would have been woken by Marcel pulling me into his arms. But instead, his side of the bed was cold and empty, the sheets rumpled from where he slipped out early.Why did I expect anything different?I’ve been trying to shake it off, telling myself it’s just another day. After all, for the past 6 birthdays, that’s exactly what it was. But there’s some deeper, perhaps childish part of me that’s taken this as much more: Marcel’s been absent for weeks and the day of my 25th birthday is no different.I sigh, trying to lose myself in the well-worn pages of my copy of Laisha Gardner’s ‘I Am Mustafin’, a story I’ve read countless times before. It’s a favorite of mine, a dark romance dystopian novel of love, loss, and survival se
I storm into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me, my heart pounding in my chest and hot tears stinging my eyes. I pace the room, trying to calm the rage and humiliation boiling inside me.It’s not true. You know it’s not true.…Then why does it bother me so much..?Deep down, I know the answer. Alessandra struck a nerve, echoing the doubts and insecurities I’ve been battling with for months. The fear that I’m not strong enough, not tough enough to survive this world. The nagging feeling that I don’t belong here, that I’m a liability to Marcel and his family.Maybe she’s right.In the next moment, the door opens, and Marcel strides in, his expression hard and unreadable. “What the hell was that, Mercy?” he asks, his voice low and controlled, but I can hear the undercurrent of anger.I scoff, turning to face him, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “She started it,” I spit, my voice trembl
⊰ Marcel ⊱The parlor is quiet, the only sound the soft clink of ice against glass as I take another sip of my scotch. It’s been a day since my confrontation with Mercy, her words echoing in my head, haunting me.“I’m tired, Marcel. Of all of this. Of you.”I can’t shake the feeling that I’m losing her, that with each passing day, she’s slipping further away from me. I’d always thought that as long as I kept her safe, I’d never lose her. But now, I’m starting to realize that by distancing myself, by trying to protect her from the darkness inside me, I’ve only pushed her further away.The irony isn’t lost on me. In trying to spare her from my pain, I’ve caused her even more.How do I fix this?Am I supposed to just bare my soul to her? Am I supposed to tell her that sometimes I get off on sitting here and thinking about all the ways I want to torture Luciano? What if she’s repulsed at hearing what goes throu
⊰ Marcel ⊱The silence of Mercy’s study envelops me as I step inside, the soft click of the door closing behind me barely registering over the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. My eyes sweep over the familiar surroundings, taking in every detail as if for the first time.The plush couch and chaise beckon invitingly. Towering bookshelves line one of the walls, their shelves laden with countless books, the titles a mix of familiar classics and obscure texts that only Mercy could appreciate. The soft glow of the lamp on her desk casts a warm light, the delicate glass shade casting intricate patterns on the polished wood surface.It’s a sanctuary, a place where Mercy can lose herself in her studies, in the world of knowledge and discovery she loves so much. But as I lower myself onto the sofa, I can’t shake the feeling of unease, of the distance that’s been growing between us, threatening to destroy us.Where did I go wrong?The thought echoes in my mind, a taunting refrain that re
As I step into the lab, a sense of finality settles over me. This is it, the last time I’ll be working with Ben and Pablo on the drone project. A part of me feels a twinge of sadness at the thought of saying goodbye to this little haven of science and innovation, but I know it’s for the best. Marcel and I are finally in a good place, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize that.Just one more month. One more month and this will all be over…right?While I’m now more hopeful of where Marcel and I stand, there’s the lingering thought, the creeping fear of time running out. I have no idea how close they are to finding Luciano, let alone what the plan is to get rid of him.Trust him. Trust Marcel. He said he’ll get it done. It’ll get done.“Hey guys,” I greet Ben and Pablo, forcing a cheerful note into my voice as I make my way to the lab table. “I just wanted to stop by and check on the calculations for the new drone model…for old time’s sake.”Ben glances up from his computer, his green
As I sit in my study, I can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. It’s Tuesday evening, and once again, I find myself across from Katherine, our usual therapy session underway.“I don’t know what to do,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. “Ben…” he kissed me last night. And I’m terrified that if Marcel finds out, it’ll ruin everything we’ve been working towards.”Katherine leans back in her seat, her legs crossed in front of her, her gaze steady and free of judgment. “Mercy,” she says softly, her voice filled with gentle understanding. “We’ve talked about this before. Secrets and lies, they’ve only ever harmed your mental health in the past. They create barriers, breed mistrust. If you want to build a strong, healthy relationship with Marcel, honesty is key.”I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. I know she’s right. I know that keeping this from Marcel will only eat away at me and create more distance between us. But the thought of telling him, of seeing the hurt and an
My parents were good people. They made shitty choices, but they were good parents. You see, the problem wasn’t that they didn’t understand the gravity of their poor decision making. The problem was that while they understood, they didn’t care about the consequences so long as they were the only ones who had to pay for them. Unfortunately, life doesn’t really work that way. You know what happens to people who can’t pay off the loan shark? They end up dead. You know what happens to the children of those people? Well…I won’t tell you because that would violate his rules. What I can tell you is that the Mafia doesn’t go after little girls. Instead, the Mafia takes the son of their deceased clients, they turn him into like them, and his sister becomes the girl that no one wants to sit at the lunch table with because God forbid you cross paths with her brother. Needless to say, loneliness becomes your shadow. My name is Mercy—Mercy Carter. I went to college. Got myself a useless Bache
The icy cold water is refreshing as I chug it from the glass cup, its coolness kissing my tongue. The remnants of the joint I’ve just smoked linger in the air, its scent infused in my blood-red sweater.I stink. I need a shower.My hooded eyes are redder than usual—a direct result from smoking an entire gram on my own.I cross my arms in front of me, taking the hem of my hoodie and t-shirt together before pulling it up and over my head. In one swift motion, I draw it from my body and toss it into the brown hamper positioned beside the bathroom doorway.With this, I reach behind me and unclasp my bra, slipping it out of my arms as I kick the white sneakers off of my feet. As high as I’m riding, by the time I recognize my next movements, I’m standing naked in the shower with the steaming hot water cascading through my waist-length hair.The sweet scent of the strawberry shampoo that washes my hair makes me smile in contentment as I throw my head back and run my fingers through it. Nothi