The Lady Of Mercy {A Mafiatale Story}

¤ ×{Prologue}× ¤

Everything was set.

Golden Flowers, which he recalled humans referring it to Buttercups, are elaborately fashioned, held in place to a baby blue-wrapped bouquet, his ivory phalanges grasping it.

He gazed at it in careful affection, before setting his glistening white pinpricks to a small golden-edged purple velvet box, his thumb popping it open to reveal an elegantly crafted silver ring that simply adorned of pearls and white crystals. He smiled, as it shone in remembrance of his love.

It’s perfect.

Today, he marked it as the very right moment to ask for the hand of his lady. He knew one day, the two will be living under one house, with a child held lovingly in their arms. And that day turns out to be on their third anniversary.

He sorted every bit of detail to make everything special.

Flowers, a nice dinner, some champagne, this ring, the big question, and then, the even bigger answer.

Though prepared for the worst, honestly he never got this nerve-wrecking in his entire life, now this came in.

She came in.

He gazed at the sunlit air, closing his eye sockets shut, reminiscing his lady. Oh, his lady.

Deep in thought, he was magically sent to another world, thanks to the great wonders of imagination. He was sitting down a bench in some place, most definitely the least gruesome location somewhere here in Ebott City, knowing this metropolis as that one spot, you’d really don’t want to wander around Italy.

Looking down to his right broad shoulder, was his lady, her head gently placed on it, as her honey-glazed golden orbs stared at the distance, a smile playing on her soft pink lips. He beamed at her, tracing his bony fingers through her soft shoulder-length chestnut brown locks. She turned to look up, meeting with his loving gaze, a mellow pink hue blooming on her fairly pale complexion.

“M’lady?” he spoke, catching her attention. He’d always call her that way, reminding her of what position she was held in his soul.

“Sì, tesoro? [Yes, my love?]” she asked in such melodic shrill voice.

“I’d take over all of Ebott, no. All of Italia just for ya.” He said with a wink, only to receive a soft giggle from the girl.

“You know I don’t want that. Being here with you, tesoro, is already enough. More than enough.”

“But I want to at least, give ya something. For everyone to know my amore [love].” He sighed, snaking his arms around his lady’s waist in an embrace.

Silence took in as thoughts drifted through her mind, suddenly coming to a perfect halt. She closed her eyes, sighing to know her wish to be impossible.

“I want… Misericordia.” She requested, hope filled in her voice as she perked up, “Mercy.”

He smiled sadly at her, understanding such a difficult dream… when you are part of one of the biggest mafias in all of Ebott.

It was incredibly a wonder to see such a merciful and innocent person like her, ended up living as one of them in the epicenter of the most dangerous city of Italy.

“I’m tired. I want to stop. It’s truly heartbreaking to see the person you love… kill nonstop with each passing day.”

“Why? Are ya still not used to the killings? I’m sorry, it’s my job, ya know?” he frowned, guilt showering his expression.