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⊰ 6 ⊱ The Currency of My Existence
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The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 7 ⊱ An Impossible Request
I inhale deeply as my eyelids flutter open.There’s an odd numbness lingering in my chest as my empty eyes gaze at the coffered ceiling with gold lining. Despite the unfamiliarity, my absent mind ignores the lingering discomfort in my shoulder as my sight shifts to the illuminating, flat, round bulbs in the center of the odd geometric pattern of the decorative panel.I wasn’t ready. Although, I suppose, I probably never would have been.Levi…I didn’t get to say goodbye the first time he left, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe the reason he avoided saying goodbye at all is because he knew how I’d react. If 24-year-old me couldn’t hold it together, what hope was there for 18-year-old me to not have utterly collapsed under the heartbreak of knowingly parting ways with the only family I had left—the only family I have left.I suppose I only wish he’d stayed with me until I fell asleep.Would it have made it all better?The breath that parts my lips makes my chest slowly fall, my head
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 8 ⊱ The Illusion of Choice
I stand at the window, my arms crossed tightly, as if holding myself together, while my gaze drifts across the vast, open fields that stretch for acres around the estate.I’ve been counting down the minutes until Levi’s time is up, and without having heard from Marcel since the last time he was here—almost a week ago—I’m left to assume that Levi, with only a few hours left until his deadline, will probably show up short-handed—just as Marcel insinuated.I kept hoping that Levi would come to my rescue, the way that he somehow always did when we were growing up—with and without parents.But he never did. Each minute of silence chips away at the little hope that I have left in me, and as guilty as it makes me feel, I mentally prepare myself for the moment that Marcel decides to walk in here to give me the inevitable news.It’s not that I don’t have faith in Levi. It’s that I know my brother, and if he did have the money to buy my freedom back, he would’ve done it the very day I was taken
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 9 ⊱ Tempting Fate: Part 1
As of late, it seems that I often find myself thinking about the past. Even as I sit here, in the elegant dining room, staring at the computer screen in deafening silence, I’m drawn back to the haunting memories of the choices that I made that contributed to this. It’d been a week since learning about Marcel’s identity and I was home alone, yet again, like every Saturday evening for the last two years. Levi didn’t waste his breath on telling me to stay home—he didn’t have to. I’d felt so ashamed of the vulnerability and stupidity that led to me making desperate choices that I only left my room to go to school whenever he was home. In fact, I avoided him when I could. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye. The humiliation was too much. It was the middle of December, and being in South Texas, it was just a little below 60 degrees. I’d curled up on the corner of the couch, wrapped in a blanket as I leaned into my side, my elbow resting on the armrest and my head propped up as
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 10 ⊱ Dancing with Fate: Part 2
As I stand before Marcel, behind the closed doors of the room I’ll be calling home for the next month, the tension between us weighs heavy, suffocating like that night, 6 years ago.He had scooted closer to me after I’d wiped the tears from my face, and despite knowing that it was evident—with or without crying—that something was eating away at me inside, I wouldn’t look at him.I wouldn’t dare to.I was afraid that if I did, he’d see right through and break me in half, giving himself free reign into every thought and feeling that I had.However, when the knuckle of his index finger found my chin, bringing my eyes to look into his, I didn’t feel like the world around me was collapsing or as if I was collapsing with it. Instead, I found comfort—a sense of safety.“I want a girl like you,” he said softly. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused, but before I could mutter a sound, he explained, “Quiet, smart, cute enough to be pretty but not pretty enough to be sexy. Keeps to herself, stays out
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 11 ⊱ Risks Worth Taking
A billion wires, a million tubes, a thousand switches…I sigh in exasperation as I gently bang my fist against my chin. In my swivel chair, I tuck my foot beneath my weight, my leg bent beneath me as I lean into my elbow, resting it on top of the table of my lab.For the past hour, I’ve been reading over not-so classified, stolen military files on the electronic tablet that’d been placed in one of the drawers in the desk positioned behind me. While I know that I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s amazing just how much information the government has on explosives. From devices as small as the palm of my hand to metal cylinders twice the size of a refrigerator, it’s all in one large file that, again, unsurprisingly, Marcel somehow has access to.He didn’t even tell me what kind of bomb he wants.…Unprofessional.…Nothing about this is professional, and you know it.It all goes back to that day: the day that Marcel returned for my answer.It was just half an hour before midnight and I was an
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 12 ⊱ Under His Gaze
This. Is. Raw. I have to fight to refrain from scrunching my nose as I cut into the 6oz steak sitting on the plate in front of me. My gaze briefly flickers to glance at Marcel’s plate only to find that he’s halfway done with what I could tell was a 14oz cut. This is one of the things that Levi and I never could agree on: steak should not be bleeding after it’s cooked. “BuT iT’s NoT eVeN bLoOd.” I can hear Levi’s voice ringing in my ears like it was just yesterday that we were arguing over rare and medium well. With the smallest bite-size piece that I can stab my fork into, I reluctantly draw it into my mouth. I’m hesitant, chewing at three bites per minute until I decide to stop trying to convince myself that it’s not utterly gross and I swallow it down with a generous sip of water. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. I turn the plate counter-clockwise, choosing to make the mashed potatoes and asparagus the only thing on this plate that I’ll be eating this evening. As I dig into the pe
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 13 ⊱ Shadows of My Doubts: Part 1
From the bathtub, with my knees against my chest and my hands locked over my breasts, I eye Marcel as he picks up the towel, t-shirt, and pair of shorts from the bathroom floor, setting them down on the counter next to my underwear. The tension and anticipation makes the hair in the back of my neck stand and goosebumps coat my still-wet arms.“What are you doing here, Marcel?” I ask with a shaky breath, swallowing hard as he averts his gaze to meet my own.A humorless chuckle emits from the back of his throat, and he moves to grab the glass of scotch that I hadn’t noticed sitting on the counter, musing, “Well, this is my house.” He holds it steady at his fingertips, beside him, as he begins his eerie, anticipatory steps toward me.My eyes widen, falling to the transparent, bubble-less spots beneath me.These bubbles aren’t very bubblicious.I panic as I blame the bubbly soap I used that distinctly read ’Bubblicious’ above the warning label behind the bottle. I tuck my feet further in,
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 14 ⊱ Weight of My Regret: Part 2
It’s always easier to be angry and blame my shortcomings on others than to accept that maybe I’m the problem too. I watch Marcel pull the armchair from across the room, moving it to position it just a few feet from my bedside, where I sit. He lowers himself to it, leaning back into the backrest as he brings his hand to the underside of his jaw, holding his chin between his thumb and index finger. His intense gaze holds me, a stoic look playing on his face. What the hell is he doing..? I arch a brow, slightly shaking my head as I say, “You can leave now.” “No, I can’t.” He’s quick and without hesitation as he explains, “Before it gets better, it’s going to get worse. In a couple of hours, the pain in your shoulder is going to spike.” He pauses for a moment, studying the dejected look on my face before adding, “So I put a sedative in your drink.” Wait. What? I furrow my eyebrows as it dawns on me, thinking back to him u
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