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⊰ 12 ⊱ Under His Gaze
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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
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 15 ⊱ Glimpse of His Black Soul
Growing up, I always imagined that my life would be different. I’d look at my parents and think, “Someday, I’m gonna get married and have my own little family.” I never imagined that I’d be standing in a lab, trying to put together a bomb for a man that I invited into my life, while also trying to distract myself from the fact that my frustrations aren’t all to be blamed on my bomb-making inadequacy.I guess that’s the thing about being a child: it comes with childish dreams.I can say one thing: the fact that I can move my arm loosely as though there aren’t stitches and a bullet hole in my shoulder does help…a lot. However, the reason behind why I can is the root of my frustration.Should I be thankful that not only did Marcel administer the medication that’s miraculously healing me but that he also sedated me so that I’d get a good night’s rest? Should I believe
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 16 ⊱ Defeat Beyond Redemption
Content Advisory: This chapter contains scenes depicting explicit and distressing content. Reader discretion is advised. At what point do you decide that your pride isn’t worth it anymore? At what point do you acknowledge that it’s okay to be wrong sometimes? At what point do you forfeit and beg for forgiveness? I suppose it’s not a matter of having the opportunity to when I’ve turned down every single one of them that’s crossed my path. Ultimately, it’s a matter of being backed into a corner and choosing the path of lesser consequence—the path of submission in hope of gracefulness. Unfortunately, for me, grace is no longer an option. My heart beats rapidly in my chest as Marcel nearly drags me down the hall. With a handful of my hair in one hand and his gun in the other, I whimper in pain as we quickly approach my bedroom where he practically kicks the door in. Why is he bringing me here..? He
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 17 ⊱ Catalina
I groan softly as my eyelids flutter open. My eyebrows furrow, my vision sharpening as I lift my head from the lab table. Disoriented, I lean back into the backrest of the swivel chair I’m sitting in, realizing that I had fallen asleep. What time is it..? I turn to look at the screen of the wall-size monitor, inhaling a deep breath as I watch the clock read ’1:05AM’. Shit. Remembering that the last time I checked the clock, it was 9:30PM, I want to bang my head into the table. I’ve lost at least 2 hours worth of work, and given the events that transpired two days ago, I’ll have to make up for lost time. I vowed to myself that I’d work every day from the moment I wake up in the morning to midnight until I’m done building the devices I’ll be using for the trial run. I figured the faster I can get this done, the faster I’ll be able to leave, assuming that Levi is able to figure out who it was that trie
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 17.5 ⊱ The Cost of Pride
⊰ Marcel ⊱ With my chin tucked between my thumb and index finger, I brush the underside of my jaw aimlessly as I lean back into the brown leather chair of the parlor. My elbow rests on the armrest, the other positioned at my hip as I hold a half-empty glass of scotch on my lap. I tap my index finger against the rim of my glass, my attention drawn between the sound of the distant clinking and my thoughts. Why did it get to me? How did she get to me? There aren’t very many things that I care about in this world. Well, there aren’t very many people that I care about enough to react to, let alone enough to send me into a blind rage. I crossed a line. “Marcel, please…” I’m pulled out of my thoughts by the hysterical Latina lowering herself to her knees before me. It seems that as of late, on her knees is the only way she’s able to hold my attention for longer than the few seconds of what feels like a long minute. That’s the beauty of relentlessness: it’s either admirable or a nuisa
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 18 ⊱ Worlds Apart
I flinch at the abrupt cold touch against my cheek, groaning softly as I furrow my eyebrows. My lungs draw a sharp breath, my eyelids fluttering open. My vision gradually sharpens at the sight of the familiar nightstand, and I briefly study the white cloth sitting over it with bloody spots staining it. In the next moment, I turn my head slowly, my gaze landing on Marcel who sits at the edge of the bed, beside me. He holds an ice pack against my cheek with a stern look playing on his hard features. He’s upset. ... I knew I should’ve stayed in the lab. Now, what’s he gonna do to me..? The image of Frank slapping the living dog shit out of me replays in my mind, and as confusing as it is that Marcel is now sitting here, tending to my wounds, I can’t help but wonder if he sees this as punishment enough or if he’s just waiting for me to get up to deal with my indiscretions his own way. To be fair, Marcel’s never h
The Mafia's Mercy ⊰ 19 ⊱ Blueprints and Failures
I don’t know about this… A thoughtful hum emits from the back of my throat as my eyes gloss over the circuit boards laid out on the lab table in front of me. I’m just a couple of wires short from finishing them, and the longer I stare at them, the more I second-guess whether or not I’ve taken the best approach. Given that I now have an idea of what and how they’re being used, I can’t afford any mistakes. I might have to start all over. … Fuck. There’s three weeks left for me to conduct a trial run, make any tweaks if necessary, conduct another test if I do have to make tweaks to it, and build the final product. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, and given that it took me almost an entire week to engineer the design and implement only a fraction of it, I know that I’m not moving fast enough. Adderall would be great right about now. I press my lips against the lid o
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