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⊰ 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 to try to 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
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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
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 9.5 ⊱ Blood and Bullets
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The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 10 ⊱ The Cost of Safety
I sit in front of the vanity mirror, my gaze flickering from my reflection on the mirror to Alessandra’s as she carefully removes the delicate pins and flowers from my hair. The room is quiet, save for the occasional clink of hairpins dropping onto the wooden surface. It’s the same luxurious bedroom where Valentina and Alessandra helped me get ready just hours ago. In the quiet of the room, my mind drifts to the scene that unfolded earlier—Catalina’s threat, the way Marcel’s body tensed with an anger that hardly seemed restrained. I know he’s out there now, talking with Guillermo, Santiago, and Levi, planning God knows what. And here I am, waiting, kept in the dark, as usual. “You’ll get used to it, you know,” Alessandra says softly, as if she could read my thoughts. “The secrets, the not knowing. They don’t involve us until they’re desperate and need something from us.” Us…as in the women. Right? I can’t help but scoff, a bitterness lingerin
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