All Chapters of The Mafia's Mercy: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

115 Chapters

⊰ 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
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⊰ 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.
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⊰ 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’re pregnant.” 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
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⊰ 9.5 ⊱ Blood and Bullets

⊰ Marcel ⊱ The wedding reception is in full swing, the mix of music, laughter, and clinking glasses floating in the atmosphere. As I walk through the crowded room, my arm wrapped possessively around Mercy’s waist, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride. She’s a vision in white, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she leans into my side. For a moment, I allow myself to forget who and what I am outside this place and simply bask in the joy of the moment. But it doesn’t last very long. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Rick weaving his way through the crowd, a stern look playing on his face. My stomach tightens, knowing that if he, my right-hand man, is here instead of out there taking care of business in my absence, something’s wrong. I plant a kiss on Mercy’s temple, murmuring, “I’ll be right back, doll. Just need to take care of something real quick.” She nods, her smile faltering sli
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⊰ 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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⊰ 11 ⊱ My Surrender: Part 1

The hot water cascades over our bodies as we stand in the spacious shower, steam billowing around us. Marcel’s hands roam over my skin, his touch igniting sparks of desire that course through my veins. I close my eyes and lean into him, my head tilted back, letting the water soak my hair and run down my face. Marcel’s lips trail kisses along my neck, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “My wife…” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “You’re mine, Mercy.” Wife… … Why does it sound so sexy coming from his mouth? Without warning, he turns me to him, pressing me against the cool, tiled wall. The feeling of the cold ceramic against my heated skin sends a shiver down my spine. His hand comes up to my face, his thumb brushing across my slightly parted lips. The intensity in his gaze takes my breath away—a hunger that threatens to consume me whole. His hand snakes down to my neck, grasping it firmly. “All mine,” he growls,
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⊰ 12 ⊱ As Husband and Wife: Part 2

With the vibrator wand in my hand, I draw a shaky breath as I press the power button, the device vibrating at its lowest setting. With nothing guarding me below, I hesitantly bring my knees apart, spreading my legs just far enough to place the wand between them. My eyes snap up to meet Marcel’s as I reluctantly lower the vibrator to my aching sex, my hand balling the bed sheets into my fist as I press it against my clit. A soft gasp parts my lips, my chest rising sharply. My toes curl, my back arching involuntarily as the wave of pleasure shoots through my core. Through the cloud that quickly hazes my vision and fogs my mind, I watch as Marcel brings his unoccupied hand up to his chin, his index finger brushing his plumb lips. His eyes darken in a lustful beam as his breathing quickly grows uneven. “Marcel…” I moan hopelessly, struggling to keep my eyes open in the midst of pure bliss. I feel myself at the edge of an orgasm, one push away from falling over th
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⊰ 12.5 ⊱ Weight of the Crown

⊰ Marcel ⊱ Soft rays of morning light peek around the blackout curtains, casting a warm glow across Mercy’s sleeping form beside me. I prop myself up on one elbow, taking in the sight of her—her dark hair fanned out against the pillow, full lips slightly parted, long lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she dreams. My chest swells with an overwhelming surge of love and contentment. Last night was perfect, better than I ever imagined. The way she gave herself to me, trusting me with her body and heart…it’s a precious gift. She is a precious gift I’ll cherish forever. Careful not to wake her, I slip out of bed and pad into the bathroom, thoughts of our passionate wedding night still burning under my skin. The memory lingers for a moment, but it doesn’t last very long. As the hot water of the shower cascades over my body, washing away the remnants of sleep, my thoughts shift to the declaration of war Catalina made o
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⊰ 13 ⊱ Consequence of Doubt

This can’t be real… I sit on the cold bathroom floor, my back pressed against the locked door, and my knees pulled up to my chest. In my hands, I hold the pregnancy test, its two unmistakable lines staring back at me like a cruel joke. Positive. It’s fucking positive. I want to laugh, cry, and scream all at the same time. This can’t be happening… Not now. Not like this. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath as I try to calm the storm raging inside me. It could be false, right? Don’t people get false positives all the time? … It’s the nocebo effect. I’m probably manifesting my own symptoms. … No. You’re in denial. I’ve been ignoring the signs for weeks now—my missed period, the constant exhaustion, the way my body feels like a stranger to me. I thought it was all because of the wedding and the stress that came with it, but I’m
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⊰ 14 ⊱ The Variable of My Existence

It’s been a week since the four plastic sticks confirmed that I’m pregnant, a week since my world changed. A week since Marcel and I stood on the edge of this new life, the reality of our future pressing down on us, challenging us. And in that week, I’ve hardly seen him at all. He’s been around, fitting in and out of the house at odd hours, always with his phone pressed to his ear or his head buried in paperwork. But he hasn’t been present, not in the way I need him to be. Not in the way I crave with every fiber of my being. I tell myself it’s just the stress of stepping in his father’s place as head of the family empire, but there’s a small, insidious voice in the back of my mind that whispers a different story—a different story that twists a knot in my stomach. Maybe he’s been avoiding me. The thought tugs at my heart, and with it goes my appetite. I push my dinner around my plate, suddenly growing nauseous. Next to me
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