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⊰ 22 ⊱ Veiled Intentions
The annoying urge to pee prompts my eyelids to snap open, my eyebrows furrowing, disoriented. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the bright sunlight beaming from beneath the blackout curtains concealing the windows and balcony door of my bedroom, and as a heavy sigh parts my lips, I shift my legs, throwing them over the edge of the bed as I tuck my arm beneath me, propping myself up to sit upright.
A soft groan emits from the back of my throat as I straighten on my feet, feeling the cold marble floor through the thin cloth of my black ankle socks as I make my way to the bathroom. I hook my thumbs into the hem of my black cheeksters, slipping them down to my knees as I lower myself onto the toilet.
I could literally go back to sleep right now.
I almost have to fight to stay awake as I listen to the light tinkle over my soft breathing, my eyes flickering up to the decorative clock positioned above the towel rack.
6 o’clock? It’s probably
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The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 23 ⊱ Fragments of Vulnerability
Okay…maybe I should leave a couple wires disconnected… I sit back on the swivel chair, setting the pliers down as I eye the circuit board I’m just about done working on. I’m a few steps away from putting together the trial product and though, theoretically speaking, the only thing that can trigger these things is the switch I’ve already finished building, I don’t want to leave anything to chance. A shaky breath parts my lips as I avert my gaze to the clock on the display screen across the table, reading ’10:12PM’. Oop. It’s as if I’ve been on autopilot since I sat down and had dinner with Marcel, 2 days ago, which consisted of silence. The blue pill I’d taken played its effect just ten minutes after, and while, in the back of my mind, I was curious about what had transpired at that hilltop, I was more concerned with the plan I’d put together and implementing it. It’s true what they say: you can accomplish anything if you set your mind to it. Needless to say, 2 days of working wh
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 24 ⊱ Between Heartbeats
My body shifts, jostling with the black SUV as Rick drives us through the uneven terrain of the unpaved road in the middle of God knows where. Beside Marcel, I sit in the back seat, the middle seat conspicuously empty between us as Frank sits on the passenger’s seat, beside Rick. With my hands on my lap, I find myself fixated on them, twiddling my fingers beneath the sleeves of my sweater in my desperate attempt to find comfort that I haven’t been able to since I stepped foot into this vehicle, almost an hour ago. I like to think that if there wasn’t another black SUV trailing behind us, carrying Guillermo and three of his men, I’d be far less stressed. However, given that I’ve hardly given him any thought within the past hour, I know that my anxiety has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the three explosives we’re transporting in the trunk space. If they fail…I’m just gonna kill myself ’cause ain’t no way. …
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 25 ⊱ Crossing Doubts
After a successful trial, Guillermo insisted that “we celebrate”, and while Marcel, his father, and about 20 other people that I don’t know, sit on the long, roundabout, cushioned bench around the fire pit, drinking, smoking, talking, and laughing, I lay on one of the many white chaise lounge chairs surrounding the pool, silently. The cool night breeze flicks the stray hair strands from my loose low bun, the chilly air penetrating my sweater as I cross my legs in front of me. I draw my cheek between my teeth, chewing thoughtfully with my eyebrows furrowed ever-so-slightly and my gaze fixed on the whipped cream of the Piña Colada in my hands as my mind wanders to the thing I wish I could stop thinking about: the bomb. Damn it. Thinking back to the assembly, I don’t know how the bombs managed to go off. I missed a couple of wires, and I remember this now because I remember telling myself not to forget about the hidden wires beneath the circuit board before I forgot about them. I onl
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 26 ⊱ Heart's Betrayal: Part 1
I watch Levi approach us, and almost instantly, Marcel’s demeanor changes. He shifts me on his side, almost as though he’s trying to shield me from something—or someone. When it seems as though Levi is walking directly toward us, his direction suddenly changes, his reddened and tired eyes landing on Guillermo. “Mi hijo!” Guillermo calls with a genuine pleasure, standing from where he sits to move toward Levi as Levi walks directly past Marcel and I, hardly acknowledging either of us. (“My son!”) Guillermo embraces Levi with a fatherly hug, patting him on the back as he asks, “How are you, my boy?” His hands find the sides of Levi’s face, their gazes meeting for a brief moment before Guillermo relinquishes his hold on him, Valentina rising from her seat to hug Levi in the next moment. He really doesn’t know… But why didn’t Marcel tell him? “Where the hell have you been, huh?” Guillermo asks. Levi offers him a half-hear
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 27 ⊱ Edge of Loyalty: Part 2
As I stand here, in the parlor, looking at them, I feel the anger, sadness, and frustration inside of me churning, threatening to spill over. “You were supposed to stay outside,” Marcel’s voice is a steady reprimand. Despite his obvious disapproval, he sets his glass down with a calmness—a testament to his control beneath the mask of his own frustrations. I’m fighting to swallow the knot in my throat, holding back the tears that so desperately want to build in my eyes, but my voice betrays me, quavering slightly as I muster the courage to speak, “I’d like to get back to work.” “You’re not working tonight,” Marcel responds, his voice firm as he wears the stoic look on his face. I stare at him, the bridge of my nose stinging, and I can’t help but lash out, “Why? So you have a reason to keep me here longer?” My raw and unfiltered accusation hangs in the air, and though he tries to keep up with the facade of his stoicism, his eyes betray him. He k
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 27.5 ⊱ Bloodlines and Loyalties
⊰ Marcel ⊱ Standing here, in the dim light of the parlor, the warmth of the scotch I sip on barely cuts through the cold tension that has settled over me. My father, Guillermo, his gaze as sharp as the edge of a knife, watches me, breaking the silence between us. “Thinking about that girl, eh?” He probes, his voice a mix of curiosity and a father’s intuition. It breaks through the hardness of my features, a sheepish smirk twitching the corners of my mouth as I shake my head and bring the glass to my lips once more. “Come on, boy. Soy tu papá. Un padre sabe,” he presses. (“Come on, boy. I’m your father. A father knows.”) I arch a brow, knowing that every word is true. I’ve never been able to hide much from him. Even now, as the grown, 31-year-old man he still refers to as “boy”, he can see right through me. The truth is that I haven’t stopped thinking about Mercy since the moment I walked back into her life. I never wanted her to know the truth about the deal Levi made with my fat
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 28 ⊱ Silent Battles: Part 3
There’s a ringing in my ears, fog in my eyes, and a dizziness in my head. It’s as though the world around me is closing in and I’m shrinking with it, only my throat can’t keep up, and the narrowness feels as thin as a straw. I don’t know how, but by the time I can process my surroundings, I’m standing in my bedroom with the door wide open, and desperately looking for something that I won’t find: a source to help me breathe. My erratic heart feels as though it’s going to explode in my chest, my hand relinquishing its hold on the bottle of pills before moving to the neck of my sweater and balling it tightly into my fist. I’m okay. I’m okay. It’s gonna be okay. The feeling is all too familiar: I’m at the verge of a panic attack. This can’t happen here. Not here. Not with them. Desperate to distract myself, I pick up the bottle from the floor, rushing to the restroom where I struggle to pop the lid open. Despite the room spinning, I stand over the toilet as I pour the pills out, my h
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 28.5 ⊱ Porcelain Doll
⊰ Marcel ⊱ I wish she would listen. Just once…I wish she would fucking listen. With each deliberate step, I make my way toward Mercy’s room. I hadn’t expected her to defy the boundaries I thought were understood between us, and as I come to the end of the hall, I find the door to her bedroom open. I thought I could trust keeping her on a longer leash. I thought I could count on her to follow the unspoken rules laid out for her, but now, walking through the threshold of her room, my trust in her competence shatters. Anger clouds my judgment as I emerge into the room, slamming the door behind me. The sound reverberates through the room, my sharp eyes scanning the familiar space as I continue my way through it until my gaze finds her standing in the bathroom with the door wide open, her shaking hands holding her over the bathroom sink. Her breathing is uneven, her eyelids shut as she bows her head and soft whimpers emit from the
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