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
⊰ Marcel ⊱The first rays of morning light filter through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Mercy’s sleeping form. I stand by the bed, buttoning my shirt, my gaze lingering on her peaceful face. She looks so innocent, so pure, her dark lashes fanning out against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted in slumber.Why is she so fucking beautiful?It’s no wonder Ben fell for her. Hell, I can’t blame him. From the moment I met her, I knew she was special, a bright little light in the darkness of my world. But that doesn’t excuse what he did. The thought of his lips on hers, his hands touching her…it makes my blood boil, the anger I’ve been trying to suppress for Mercy’s sake simmering beneath my skin.I knew it. All along, I fucking knew it.…I should’ve confronted him a long time ago…before he tried anything.I played it off last night, tried to reassure her that everything would be okay. But the truth is, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze
As I stand in the foyer, watching Marcel command his men with a sense of effortless authority, I can’t help but feel a mix of pride and apprehension. There’s an intensity in his eyes, a focus determination that I’ve never seen before. His voice is low and authoritative, each word carefully chosen, each instruction precise and unyielding. He’s in his element here, every inch the powerful mafia boss.This is what he was born to do.The thought hits me suddenly, unexpectedly. For as long as I’ve known him, Marcel has been a leader, a protector, a man who commands respect and loyalty from those around him. But seeing him like this, effortlessly taking control, the way every man in the room hangs on his every word, I can’t help but wonder…What will life be like when this is all over?Will he be able to leave this world behind, to adapt to a life of boardrooms and business deals? I can picture it so clearly in my mind—Marcel in a tailored suit, sitting at the head of a conference table, hi
I sit at the dining table, my hands flat on the polished wood, just as Luciano ordered. The surface is cool beneath my palms, but I can feel the sleek layer of cold sweat beneath them, a result from the fear that burns hot in my veins. Around me, Eboni, Alessandra, Juanita, Salma, and Maria are in the same position, their faces pale, their eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.We’re surrounded by five of Luciano’s men, their guns trained on us, the metal glinting coldly in the light. The rest of them are still searching the house, their footsteps echoing like a drum of doom.We’re going to die…Luciano stands at the foot of the table, across from me, his dark eyes glittering with malice and triumph. He looks like a king presiding over his court, but there’s something twisted and wrong about him, something that makes my skin crawl and my stomach churn.“Marcello thinks he’s a king, bombing my merchandise, vandalizing my homes,” he scoffs, his voice dripping with venom and contempt. “
⊰ Marcel ⊱The steady beep of the vital signs monitor echoes through the sterile hospital room, a constant reminder of the fragile life hanging in the balance. I sit by Mercy’s bedside, my hand clasped tightly around hers, my eyes fixed on her pale, still face.It’s been a month. A month of watching her chest rise and fall with the help of machines, a month of praying for a miracle that never came. The doctors say there’s little to no brain activity, that the chances of her waking up are next to none.I can’t let her go.Everyone has already come to say their goodbyes. Levi, his eyes red-rimmed and his voice hoarse. Alessandra, her sobs echoing through the hallways. Even Santiago, clinging to Alessandra as she fell apart in his arms.And now, it’s my turn.With a heavy heart, I sign the papers to withdraw medical care, my hand shaking so badly I can barely hold the pen. The doctor gives me a sympathetic look, his hand resting briefly on my shoulder before he moves to remove the tube f
The cold metal of Luciano’s gun presses against the back of my head as I lead him, Fabio, and two of his other men to the parlor. My heart hammers in my chest, each step feeling like a mile, my legs threatening to give out beneath me.I can’t believe this is happening…But it is. It’s real, and it’s terrifying.In what feels like only a matter of seconds, we reach the safe, installed into the wall at the far end of the room, right behind one of Marcel’s antique paintings. With shaking fingers, I input the code, the buttons blurring through my tears.01-29-93Marcel’s birthday.As the lock clicks open, my mind drifts back to the day he told me about this safe, just a few days after our first ultrasound.I had gone to his office, wanting to see him, to be near him. The memory of our baby’s strong and steady heartbeat was still fresh in my mind, filling me with a joy I couldn’t contain.When I walked in, he looked up from his desk, concern etched on his handsome face. “Is everything okay
⊰ Marcel ⊱We take out Catalina’s men swiftly and efficiently, our synchronized movements honed by years of working together. In mere minutes, the only sound is our own controlled breathing and the distant crackle of flames where Rick set the charges.I stride into the house, my footsteps echoing on the polished hardwood, the metallic scent of blood hanging heavy in the air. Slumped bodies lay strewn in our wake, crimson pooling beneath their still forms.Catalina sits on a chair in the center of the room, flanked by Santiago and Levi, their guns trained on her. Even disheveled and terrified, her beauty is coldly arresting—high cheekbones, full lips, the slash of dark brows over glittering eyes.And still…she resembles my Mercy.I lower myself into the chair across from her, gun in hand, and studying her face. “Your face healed up nicely,” I remark casually, as if we’re old friends catching up. “Considering our last encounter, I mean.”She glares at me with pure loathing, her red lips
I sit at the dining table, my hands flat on the polished wood, just as Luciano ordered. The surface is cool beneath my palms, but I can feel the sleek layer of cold sweat beneath them, a result from the fear that burns hot in my veins. Around me, Eboni, Alessandra, Juanita, Salma, and Maria are in the same position, their faces pale, their eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.We’re surrounded by five of Luciano’s men, their guns trained on us, the metal glinting coldly in the light. The rest of them are still searching the house, their footsteps echoing like a drum of doom.We’re going to die…Luciano stands at the foot of the table, across from me, his dark eyes glittering with malice and triumph. He looks like a king presiding over his court, but there’s something twisted and wrong about him, something that makes my skin crawl and my stomach churn.“Marcello thinks he’s a king, bombing my merchandise, vandalizing my homes,” he scoffs, his voice dripping with venom and contempt. “
As I stand in the foyer, watching Marcel command his men with a sense of effortless authority, I can’t help but feel a mix of pride and apprehension. There’s an intensity in his eyes, a focus determination that I’ve never seen before. His voice is low and authoritative, each word carefully chosen, each instruction precise and unyielding. He’s in his element here, every inch the powerful mafia boss.This is what he was born to do.The thought hits me suddenly, unexpectedly. For as long as I’ve known him, Marcel has been a leader, a protector, a man who commands respect and loyalty from those around him. But seeing him like this, effortlessly taking control, the way every man in the room hangs on his every word, I can’t help but wonder…What will life be like when this is all over?Will he be able to leave this world behind, to adapt to a life of boardrooms and business deals? I can picture it so clearly in my mind—Marcel in a tailored suit, sitting at the head of a conference table, hi
⊰ Marcel ⊱The first rays of morning light filter through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Mercy’s sleeping form. I stand by the bed, buttoning my shirt, my gaze lingering on her peaceful face. She looks so innocent, so pure, her dark lashes fanning out against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted in slumber.Why is she so fucking beautiful?It’s no wonder Ben fell for her. Hell, I can’t blame him. From the moment I met her, I knew she was special, a bright little light in the darkness of my world. But that doesn’t excuse what he did. The thought of his lips on hers, his hands touching her…it makes my blood boil, the anger I’ve been trying to suppress for Mercy’s sake simmering beneath my skin.I knew it. All along, I fucking knew it.…I should’ve confronted him a long time ago…before he tried anything.I played it off last night, tried to reassure her that everything would be okay. But the truth is, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze
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
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
⊰ 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