The Mafia's Mercy

I stepped into the doorway, turning back to look at him as he tucked his hands into his navy blue jean's pockets. Despite my obvious insecurity, I leaped against my timidity, asking, "Will I ever see you again?"

There I was, standing with the door wide open before a man that I didn't know, begging that he'd say that he'd be interested in seeing me again some day.

After a brief moment's silence, he stepped toward me, closing the short distance between us. The knuckle of his index finger gently lifted my chin, the pad of his thumb brushing the shadow beneath my lips.

My heart fluttered in my chest, my eyes drawn to his compelling ones as he murmured, "I'm dangerous, doll. I'd do you good if I stayed away."

I should've left it alone. I should've listened and shut the door, but I didn't.

I couldn't.

~the Mafia's Mercy~

She saw it happen, but she was smart enough to pretend she didn't.

She understood why it happened. She understood why it had to happen. What she didn't understand is why they didn't hurt her brother.

What she didn't understand is why they didn't hurt her.

From the moment she laid eyes on him, she knew her life was set to change forever.

The Mafia doesn't kill your parents and leave witnesses behind.

How do they make the best use of them?

When they're adolescents, they don't dispose of them.

Instead, he plans, nurtures, and when he's ready, he exploits.