The Mafia's Mercy

⊰ 10 ⊱ Dancing with Fate: Part 2

As I stand before Marcel, behind the closed doors of the room I'll be calling home for the next month, the tension between us weighs heavy, suffocating like that night, 6 years ago.

He had scooted closer to me after I'd wiped the tears from my face, and despite knowing that it was evident—with or without crying—that something was eating away at me inside, I wouldn't look at him.

I wouldn't dare to.

I was afraid that if I did, he'd see right through and break me in half, giving himself free reign into every thought and feeling that I had.

However, when the knuckle of his index finger found my chin, bringing my eyes to look into his, I didn't feel like the world around me was collapsing or as if I was collapsing with it. Instead, I found comfort—a sense of safety.

"I want a girl like you," he said softly. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused, but before I could mutter a sound, he explained, "Quiet, smart, cute enough to be pretty but not pretty enough to be sexy. Keeps to herself, stays out of trouble," he paused. With a small smile on his lips, he playfully added, "—for the most part."

Cute enough to be pretty but not pretty enough to be sexy..?

At the time, it'd gone completely over my head. I didn't know that what he meant to say was: cute enough to be pretty but not pretty enough to arouse the naked eye or blatantly attract attention from men looking for something to look at.

In the midst of my insecurities, I pretended that I wasn't bothered by the fact that I believed that he'd subtly called me unsexy, and I fought to keep what I thought was a blank expression on my face until he said, "I need a girl like you, and if it were up to me, I'd put you in my truck and take you away."

Then, I couldn't hide my confusion. I narrowed my eyes on him, my voice low as I confronted him, "I know who you are...so what's stopping you?"

It isn't that I wasn't afraid of him or of the power I knew that he had. It's that as I sat there, knowing that I was sharing the couch with the heir of the Saldívar Mafia empire, all I could think about was: what could possibly be standing in the way of him doing whatever he wanted?

"Unfortunately, as of three days ago, you're off limits," he said as though it wouldn't confuse me more. Then, he explained, "Your brother made my father an offer he couldn't refuse, so you are to be left alone for the foreseeable future."

An offer he couldn't refuse..? What the hell did he do now?

I knew better than to ask about my brother's business from other people. Levi made that abundantly clear the day he found out that I had asked one of his friends about his weekend endeavors.

Needless to say, that's the day I learned what "curiosity killed the cat" means, and Levi learned how easy it was to "put me in my place".

I shook my head ever-so-slightly, pressing Marcel, "Then why are you here?"

"Because like you, I don't always do what I'm told," he was frank and unapologetic. He studied me, lowering his hand from my face as he breathed out, "I can't take you away, but technically, you could come with me."

There it is.

I didn't want to admit it at the time, but there was a part of me that was tempted to. Not because I was unhappy with where I was or because I thought I could be happy with someone like him, but because I knew that if I left, my brother wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. He could live his life without having to look over my shoulder too.

But as selfless as it seemed, I also knew how hard he had worked to provide and protect me for 4 years. If I left with the man who may very well be no better than the man who killed our parents, it would destroy him.