Share
⊰ 3 ⊱ My Brother's Sacrifice: Part 2
I throw my head back, laughing as I remind Levi of the time he tried to make me breakfast in bed for my 15th birthday and nearly burned down the kitchen.
“Remember how the smoke alarm went off and you were running around like a headless chicken, trying to air out the house before I woke up?” I tease him, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.
He shakes his head, chuckling as he takes a sip of his Coke. “Yeah, well, I never said I was a fucking chef,” he retorts, a grin playing on his lips.
On a picnic table, we sit side by side, in the parking lot of a food truck lot. The remnants of our taco feast lay scattered on the white paper plates before us, the scent of cilantro and lime lingering in the air. It’s all too familiar, a reminiscence of the countless nights we spent together, just me and him, trying to figure out how to live a world without our parents.
And that’s why I did all the cooking.
“You know,” he says, his voice tinge
Related chapters
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 4 ⊱ Clinging onto Faith: Part 3
As I pull into the driveway of Marcel’s mansion, my heart is pounding in my chest, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. My hands shake, barely able to keep the car steady as I drive through the already opened gates, somehow managing to bring it to a stop. Through the haze of my panic, I see Marcel, Frank, Rick, Miguel, and a few other men I don’t recognize standing outside the house—their faces tense and rigid. I hardly register parking the car before I’m scrabbling at my seatbelt, my fingers fumbling with the release button. After what feels like an eternity, I finally hear the click, and I practically rip it off, the rough fabric scraping against my neck. I reach over to Levi, my hands trembling as I try to undo his seatbelt. “Levi?” I call out, my voice cracking with fear. “Levi, we’re here. We’re at Marcel’s.” But he doesn’t respond. His head is slumped against the window, his eyes closed, and his face is frighteningly pale beneath the dark red of the
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 4.5 ⊱ She Will Be Loved
⊰ Marcel ⊱ As I sit in the parlor, my gaze drifts to Mercy’s sleeping form on the couch. She’s curled up beneath a blanket, her head resting on a cushion, her face still bearing the traces of the tears she shed before she fell asleep. She refused to go to bed, and given the circumstances, I didn’t have the heart totryto force her to. How could I, when her world is crumbling around her? It’s been a few hours since my medical team arrived, and the wait has been agonizing. Every minute feels like an eternity, the silence broken only by the distant sounds of the doctors working to save Levi’s life. My mind wanders, replaying the events of just a couple of hours ago, the fear in Mercy’s eyes, the desperation in her voice as she pleaded with me to pray for her brother. Levi. The man who took care of her for the better part of a decade—her protector. I’ve seen the bond they share, the depth of their love
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 5 ⊱ Flicker of Doubt
The warm water cascades over my body as I stand in the shower, lost in thought. Before I made my way up to my bedroom, Guillermo, Valentina, Santiago, and Alessandra stopped by to see Levi. As soon as I heard them coming through the front door, I took the opportunity to excuse myself from the room, not wanting to be in the same room as them unless otherwise necessary. Now, as the steam wafts from my body, I can’t escape my seemingly restless mind. I haven’t seen Marcel since last night, and my mind keeps drifting back to the revelation of Levi’s secret family. Why didn’t he tell me about them before? Why keep something so important a secret from me? After everything we’ve been through, I thought we could trust each other. Unfortunately, thus far, all I’ve learned is that while I may trust him, for some reason, he doesn’t feel the same way, and I can’t help but feel like our relationship isn’t a truly reciprocal one. Without even realizing it,
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 6 ⊱ Bound by Fate
Sitting in the back of Guillermo’s infamous black SUV, I ball my hands into loose fists on my lap as my gaze traces the all too familiar countryside blurring past us. Somehow, even though I’m in a car with two other people, the empty seat beside me only serves to remind me of the shitty turn my day has taken. This is ass. Just a few minutes ago, I was standing in the main entrance hall, stupid enough to think that I was about to be free after the awkward breakfast with Marcel’s family. Valentina had spent the entire meal scolding Marcel for getting mepregnantout of wedlock, while also assuring me it wasn’t my fault. “Saldívar men are womanizers,” she said with a knowing look on her face. The entire time, Marcel was biting his lip, trying not to laugh while Guillermo’s piercing gaze never left me. Despite the uneasiness twisting in my gut, being by Marcel’s side offered me a sense of comfort. Then, just when I thought I wa
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 7 ⊱ Amidst a World of Darkness
The drive back from the cake and food tasting is quiet, the hum of the car’s engine filling the silence between Valentina, Alessandra, and me. I lean my head against the window, watching the city blur past us as my mind wanders to the events of the day. It’s been…a lot. From the bridal boutique to the endless samples of cakes and hors d’oeuvers, my social battery is drained, I’m stuffed, and I’m half a breath away fromthe itis. I wanna take a nap. The weight of the impending wedding settles heavily on my shoulders, and I can’t help but feel like I’m being swept away by a current I can’t control. Valentina and Alessandra chatter in the front seat, the incessant discussion of the merits of vanilla versus chocolate giving me a headache. I tune them out, their voices fading into the background as my thoughts drift to Marcel. I haven’t seen him since this morning, and a part of me aches for his presence, for the comfort and stabilit
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 7.5 ⊱ Her Sacrifice
⊰ Marcel ⊱ The sound of the gunshot echoes through the empty warehouse, reverberating off the metal walls. The man before me slumps to the ground, a neat hole in the center of his forehead, eyes wide and unseeing. The acrid smell of gunpowder fills my nostrils as I lower my weapon, a sense of grim satisfaction settling in my chest. It’s done. I turn to Rick and Frank, both standing a few feet away, their own guns still trained on the other two men kneeling on the cold concrete floor. They’re beaten and bloody, faces swollen from the hours of interrogation carried out at the hands of my men. “Take care of them,” I command, my voice flat and emotionless. Rick nods, his expression hard as he steps forward, pressing the barrel of his gun against the back of one of the men’s heads. I don’t stay to watch. I’ve seen enough death for one day. Instead, I holster my gun and make my way out of the warehouse, the sound of two mor
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 8 ⊱ Come What May
Today is the day. I’m getting married. I stand before the full-length mirror, my heart racing as I take in the sight before me. The woman staring back is almost unrecognizable, a vision in white lace and delicate embroidery. My hair is swept up in an elegant updo, adorned with sparkling pins and fresh flowers. The makeup artist worked magic, enhancing my features and making my hazel eyes shine. It’s my wedding day, and despite the nerves that flutter in my stomach, I can’t help but feel a sense of awe. Valentina and Alessandra flutter around me, making final adjustments and offering words of encouragement, their excitement evident in their cheerful Italian chatter. I take a deep breath, turning my head to look out the window of the one of many luxurious bedrooms of Alessandra’s and Santiago’s multi-million dollar lake house. It’s a stunning venue that takes my breath away every time I glance at the glittering water and lush greenery.
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 9 ⊱ Till Death Do Us Part
The reception is a whirlwind of music and dancing, the grand tent filled to the brim with well-wishers and revelers. As Marcel and I make our way through the crowd, accepting congratulations, I can’t help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer extravagance of it all. Waiters weave through the guests, offering trays of champagne and hor d’oeuvres, and I find myself reaching for a glass, my mind still hazy from the joint Levi and I shared earlier. But before my fingers can close around the stem, Marcel’s hand closes around my wrist, his grip firm. “Careful, baby doll,” he murmurs, his voice low. “Remember, you’repregnant.” My cheeks flush, realizing my mistake, and quickly snatching my hand back. He’s right. I can’t afford to slip up, not here, not now. With a tight smile, I grab a glass of sparkling cider instead, the sweetness cloying on my tongue. As we make our rounds, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride at the way Marcel commands th
Latest chapter
- The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 12.5 ⊱ Weight of the Crown
- The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 12 ⊱ As Husband and Wife: Part 2
- The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 11 ⊱ My Surrender: Part 1
- The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 10 ⊱ The Cost of Safety
- The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 9.5 ⊱ Blood and Bullets
- The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 9 ⊱ Till Death Do Us Part
- The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 8 ⊱ Come What May
- The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 7.5 ⊱ Her Sacrifice
- The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 7 ⊱ Amidst a World of Darkness
