the Mafia's Mercy

⊰ 6 ⊱ The Currency of My Existence

I wish I could say that if I'd done things differently, I wouldn't be here. However, the unfortunate truth is that even if I had done things differently, it feels as though this was destined to happen.

I guess that's what happens when your parents leave a mess for you to clean up.

My hand grips onto the balled bed sheet in my fist as though it'll keep me grounded to my body should Marcel choose to put a bullet through my head this time like he said he would. With crippling anticipation, my gaze follows him as he moves from the doorway to stand just before the foot of the bed. Despite very notably feeling my heart pounding in my chest, it isn't until I register the increasingly shorter pauses between each beep from the vital signs machine that I realize that the spike of my heart rates' doubled. My hands tremble on my lap, the veins on my arm dilating as my blood pumps faster and harder.

It's okay. It's gonna be okay.

...

No the fuck it's not.

The smirk dancing on Marcel's lips shifts ever-so-slightly as his eyes flicker to the monitor beside me. He brings his hands up to the handles at the foot of the bed before him, his gaze shifting to meet my own as he breathes out, "Relax, doll. No one's getting hurt today." He pauses for a moment, glancing at Levi who looks like he's at the brink of snapping before adding, "Well, that is unless you or your brother decide to do something stupid."

While nothing he says will be enough to reassure me that neither he or his men will deal us any more damage than they already have, I'm certain of at least one thing: he won't do anything that causes a scene because that's not his style and he prefers to be discreet. Thus, if we play by his hand, at the very least, he won't do anything here—a public place.

Still, for a moment, just a moment, my gaze falls to the nurses' call button.

I don't have the opportunity to so much as attempt to reach for it, because before I can, it's as though Levi has direct access to my thoughts and he takes it into his hand. My eyes snap up to lock with his as he moves it out of my reach. With a stern look on his face and a calmer composure, he shakes his head at me ever-so-slightly, silently advising me to do as I'm told.

I furrow my eyebrows with hopelessness, my eyes glossing as a shaky breath parts my lips. My eyelids fall shut for a second, my attention shifting to my breathing as I attempt to settle my nerves. I draw the inside of my cheek between my teeth, chewing nervously despite the distinct irony taste of blood in my mouth.

When it seems like nothing is working, I breathe out sharply in defeat, turning to the monitor before reaching to shut the beeping off.

"Well then," Marcel's voice resonates, my gaze shifting to look at him as he states, "I'm glad we're all on the same page."

When one of his hands moves away from the handle at the foot of the bed, he draws it back into his pocket, the other never relinquishing its steady hold. As utterly controlled as his composure is, his presence remains absolute.

I guess that's the thing about powerful people: the smallest gesture, as insignificant as it may seem, is enough to assert their superiority.

"Believe it or not, after I went home, I just felt sick about this entire...ordeal." He almost sounds genuine, his tongue clicking before he proceeds, "You see, I got to wondering: what would happen if I let you walk out of here with your sister and a four and a half million dollar debt?"

He pauses for a moment, shrugging his shoulders with a thoughtful look on his face. Finally, a sigh parts his lips, his gaze flickering to meet Levi's, speaking directly to him as he says, "Then I got to wondering how much it would cost to keep a...beautiful young woman like her clothed, fed, safe? So I did a little research, and as it turns out, Mercy Carter is very popular in the research field of mathematics and physics at her university." Again, he pauses, averting his gaze to me as he states, "You should be very proud."