Just Mercy Novel Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Do you even know who you're helping? He's a killer! He's the one who took our daughter from us!" I yelled as loud as I could, hoping to reach whatever was left of Jack's heart. Jack just scrunched his eyebrows and looked down at me. "Back to your sad stories? Is it about our daughter again?" I tried to smile through the pain, bending over and begging. "Please... I'm begging you. Take any case you want, but not this one. Please." I was lowering myself so much, desperately begging Jack for mercy. I knew we would never stand a chance if Jack took the case.

“A dear friend helped me, a minister who was on his way home to Preston. I wanted to seek your help. He took pity on my plight and let me ride with him.” “Why did you come to this kind of institution instead of to my home?” “The minister insisted this would be the safest place, Mercy.” “But Kat, why would a minister leave you in such a God-forsaken place?” “He says I have melancholy. Dr. McClain agrees.” Tears filled Mercedes’ eyes, but she forced herself to take control of her emotions. Her sister didn’t belong here, and Mercedes would not allow her to stay. She straightened her shoulders. “What do you want me to do? How can I get you out?”

I ask. Her answer is quiet. “You get to live with it.” My breath stutters. “That’s worse.” “Yes.” “Why would you do that to me?” My voice shakes. “Because dying is escape.” Her voice is steady. “Living is the consequence.” I shake my head. “I don’t deserve that mercy.” “This isn’t mercy.” She steps closer. “This is justice.” I can’t hold her gaze. “I loved you,” I admit.

" I said to her with all seriousness, it hurt to know I would be the one to pass judgement on my best friend whom I promise to protect whenever she is in danger. I tried to make a step out of the prison when I felt someone holding my legs around my ankle, I looked down to see Jessica crying and begging. " Please, don't do this to me, I beg of you to temper justice with mercy, please": Jessica cried. I squatted to her level, removing her hands from my ankle as I stared dagger at her " temper justice with mercy" is she kidding me or something. "You want mercy, yet you went about killing mercilessly under the command of alpha Jax"

And still, something inside me ignited. I sobbed. “Stop! Jeremiah!” He didn’t listen. And something inside me burned hotter than pain, far more superior than my sane thoughts. “You don’t deserve my mercy or my fucking cock. You only deserve to be punished and taught a lesson.” ____ A. Gupta

I listened to none of it as memories of their abuses flooded my mind, nearly traumatizing me again. “You will live, that I promise,” I said, turning away. “Not as family, but as servants. I’ll make you remember every day what you took from me when I was helpless—every detail, in vivid shades. Mercy was a privilege you never gave me, even when I pleaded for it many times.” Their screams followed me out, but I cared less. I didn’t look back, and I had no intention of doing so. “But mercy I will offer, and that mercy is keeping you all alive—because you would wish I had killed you all.”

Just nodded once, the kind of nod that comes when a man finally realises he's run out of excuses. Back in my office, I stood at the window, the city grey and slick with drizzle. Justice never feels clean. I'd seen enough justice in my life to know it always leaves someone bleeding, even when it's done right. You fool yourself into thinking it's clean, that truth is mercy, but there's no satisfaction in watching someone drown, even when they built the tide themselves. Dan had never helped Layla. He'd only taken what she offered, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but her strength holding up the life they shared.

A good man who sacrificed his own life like my brother did eighteen years ago. My men have gone over every inch of the building, checking for anything that could signal another attempt on our lives, especially bombs. The tension is palpable enough to make its presence known, and every man is on edge after the attack, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The elevator chimes and sharp screams of obscenities replace the uneasy quiet. I turn my attention to the office door, and Mercy is flanked by two of my men in the open doorway. She fights them like a tornado ripping a house apart. Her red hair is a tangled mess, and her torn yellow dress has a black stain on the front. They must've tossed her

“Give me the punishment. I’ll take it. Let me go to the bathroom. Please… please. Hic, please, hic, please.” I was begging. I didn’t want to defecate on the man’s hand. Earlier, I had barely managed to urinate in the corner of the room after holding it in. I didn’t want to do anything filthier. There was such a thing as human dignity. No matter how extreme the situation, I wanted to hold onto that at least. The man clicked his tongue as if it were a shame and pulled his hand out. Then he picked me up in one swoop.