Page 66 of My Merciless Don

“And I apologize profusely for my foolishness. I am sure I am not the only person who has ever been misled by a beloved parent, in the hopes that you could make them proud.” I looked every clan leader in the eye. There was understanding in a few faces, even sympathy. Money was a great softener, I found.

“Do you accept my gift?” I asked as humbly as I could.

“Of course we do,” Marco said, “it will come in handy. Thank you very much miss… Martin? Or should I say Mercer?”

I felt a pang in my chest. That wound was still raw. “Just Audry. One name, like Madonna.” I showed him my teeth in a fake grin, but he wasn't buying it. He gave me a soft look filled with sympathy and I had to look away, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.

“Thank you for your time, Audry. Now if you ladies will excuse us, we still have a few things to discuss.”

I gave something between a bow and a curtsy before turning and gesturing for Lucia and Kylie to precede me out of the room, wheeling the cart. I realized that Marco not giving anyone a chance to disagree with him was smart. Now it was too late for them to do anything. The agreement we had made was tacit. I was free, at last.

I gave a huge sigh of relief as we left the building, turning to face Lucia and Kylie. “I think we did it.” I exclaimed.

Lucia nodded smiling. “Yeah, congratulations!” She high fived me.

Kylie gave me a one-armed hug.

We looked at each other expectantly.

“So, drinks?” Lucia asked.

“Yes please.” I said with relief. We walked to the car and drove off.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

AUDRY

Even as I was occupied with my problems, I made a point to visit Sophia. Most times she didn't recognize me, other times she called me Amy, a few times, she knew who I was.

Mostly, when that happened, we just sat together and cried. Mostly I just fed her whatever meal Marco had prepared for her, other times we discussed the art on her walls. Even at her most forgetful, she was very enthusiastic about it.

She would say things like, “You know, my daughter really cherished that piece. She said it gave her comfort.” I clutched those little fragments of Amy to myself as if they were solid gold. It was likely to be all I would know about my twin, besides the stories I heard from Marco and he did not like to talk about her much. I really couldn't blame him.

I knew I should go and see him - my father - confront him about what he did to me. But I did not have the guts. My heart quailed at the thought of facing him. It's one thing to know that your father sold you, it's another to look him in the eye and have him tell you, perhaps, that he had no regrets.

I didn't need that shit. My life had been awful enough as it was. The only bright light, well perhaps not the only one, but certainly the brightest, was Marco. He turned out to be quite skilled at the boyfriend stuff.

Some mornings he would wake me up it's the smell of coffee and pancakes permeating the room. I'm not a morning person, if I could have, I would’ve slept until noon every day. So sometimes before he left to do his gangster shit, he would make me a tray and put it at my bedside, so I could have breakfast in bed and go right back to sleep. Or have it when I woke up.

It was very healing to be able to do that and know that he had no expectations of me to be anywhere or do anything. Of course, I didn't take advantage of that for too long - being a trad wife was not my calling. Instead, I began to write it all down, my life, what I liked about it, what I hated about it, and I tried to answer the question - all things being equal, what did I want my future to look like?

It helped me feel less adrift. Now that I had my life back, I wanted to do something with it. Something I could be proud of. I tried talking to Sophia about it a few times when she was lucid.

“My dear,” she told me as she squeezed my hands, “I can't tell you what to do. You have to decide that for yourself.” Her bottom lip trembled as she tried not to cry. “I can't even promise that I will be there for you, or even remember this conversation. All I can do is love you the best I can.”

She literally broke my heart in two. I truly felt how awful it must be for her to be losing the threads of her life, slowly and insidiously. That was what motivated me to write. Perhaps when she forgot about me completely, she could still read my story and know that she had two daughters, and that they adored her.

Weirdly enough, Sophia never spoke of Claude when I visited, and I never ran into him at the old folks home. I asked Marco about it. “What's up with Claude anyway? Does he visit his wife?”

Marco shrugged. “I don't really know. He's the one who put her in there, and I've never asked the nurses who else comes to visit. I've never seen him there myself.”

“Do you not visit with him?”

Marcus snorted. “Claude doesn't really like me that much. I don't blame him. I wouldn't like me either if I was the cause of my child's death.”

“Ah, but he's the only one who knew that Amy wasn't their only child.”

“Yeah, and how hard must it have been for him not to be able to say so.”

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