Page 104 of Ruthless Contract
I leaned back against the couch.
“It’s doing well. I was finally able to get our family there to cease trying to sabotage it.”
“Did you have to kill anyone to achieve that?” he asked.
“A few people,” I admitted.
He nodded. Then his smile disappeared completely, and he clasped his hands together.
“Did you... uh... learn anything new about my situation?” he mumbled.
“I did. That’s part of the reason I came today.”
His gaze met mine, and I noted the hope in his eyes. I gave him a brief rundown of what Terzo and I had uncovered. And then I told him of my plan to investigate a possible suspect who was already dead, along with The Circuit.
Marcel listened without interrupting me once. When I finished, silence settled over the room. His gaze dropped to the floor.
"I want to know who they are,” he whispered. “I don’t care if they’re dead or alive. I just want to know who did it. Who watched me? Who stalked me?” His jaw tightened. Through clenched teeth, he said, “I want to know if they chose me because I looked... weak.”
The pain in those last words hit me harder than anything else he'd said. Someone had quietly observed our family, then decided Marcel would be the easiest target. They’d stalked him. Learned his routines.
Then, they sold that information to our enemies. Those enemies were now dead. But the people who’d chosen him, the ones who’d violated his privacy, were still unknown. He couldn’t rest easily until, dead or alive, he knew who they were. Marcel rubbed his hands together.
"I still feel like someone's watching me sometimes,” he told me. He gave a humorless laugh. "I know they're not. I mean, how could they?” He gestured toward the windows. “They can’t even see in. Even so, sometimes I look over my shoulder, feeling like someone is there, waiting for me to let my guard down.”
He clasped his hands together as he stared around the living room.
"I know I’m being irrational. And I know the family thinks I’m losing my mind. But no matter how hard I try, I can't shake the feeling that it’s not over. And I keep having these nightmares about... about... what they did to me? Sometimes I’m not even asleep when the nightmares strike."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, heart aching for the young man before me. Marcel wasn’t just preparing for another attack.He was trying to outrun the one he’d already survived. I leaned forward.
"I'm going to find out who supplied that intel to the Bianchis," I vowed. “And I’m going to make sure they’re never able to hurt you again.”
Marcel looked at me, but said nothing.
"I'm going to find every person involved,” I promised. “And I’m going to bring them to you, so you can see they’re no longer a threat. So you can see that you no longer have anything to fear.”
He stared down at the floor. “Do you think I’m... weak?” he asked.
“Hell no. Look at me, Marcel. Look at me.”
Lifting his head, he met my gaze again.
“If fear makes you weak, then all of us are weak. Fear is natural. If you feared nothing, that would worry me even more than you not wanting to leave the house. You have a right to be scared. I don’t like that your fear is controlling your life. But I didn’t live through what you lived through. I can sit here and say I understand what happened to you. But until I’ve experienced it firsthand, I can never understand what you’ve endured. So do whatever it takes to keep yourself from falling apart. And I’ll handle finding the people responsible. Okay?”
For the first time since we'd started talking, something that resembled resolve flickered in Marcel's eyes.
"I can do that. Thank you, Rome."
I shook my head. "You don't have to thank me."
"I do."
He looked over at the peace lilies before speaking again.
"I think..." He paused. "I think finding the people who stalked me might help me start living again. I need to know who did this. The not knowing is the worst part. I want to live again. I want to feel the sun again. I want to go visit my mom, instead of having her come here and leave teary-eyed because she’s worried about me. I want to hang out with you and our family. I mean, I’m past drinking age now. You all promised to get me shit-faced once I was legal. Remember?”
I chuckled. “I remember.”
