Marcelo is here
He really is a savior, Theressa’s savior.
He had all his men at his feet blood spilling from everyone m, he didn’t even sweat as he brought them down, not even blows, kicks and swinging knives left a scratch or stain on his white button down shirt. He has his gloves on. The blood painting the original dark floured gloves.
Marcelo’s fingers were wrapped tightly around the tattooed man’s neck, exerting pressure with a relentless grip. His eyes burned with intensity, bloodshot and filled with gritted teeth that spoke of his determination to assert dominance. It was as though he intended to wrench the man’s head from his body by cutting off his air passage.
“Now which body part am I to begin cutting?” Rodriguez’s voice cut through the tension, his tone a chilling blend of satisfaction and unbridled rage. Neither Theressa nor Mary made any attempt to stop him from carrying out his gruesome task.
They stood in the cemetery as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the gravestones as the wind whispered through the trees. Marcelo’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as he contemplated his next move, his gaze fixed on the battered and bloodied figure before him.
“Please,” the man pleaded, blood dripping from his mouth as he struggled to speak. Marcelo had subjected him to a brutal beating, leaving him with swollen eyes and blood gushing from every part of his body. Theressa couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to survive such a savage assault.
“You can’t try to touch what’s mine and go scot-free,” Marcelo declared, his voice dripping with menace. “But I could have mercy on you.”
With a flick of his wrist, Marcelo released his grip on the man’s neck, turning his attention to Theressa with a look that left her feeling unsettled. She couldn’t quite decipher his intentions, but she knew that he had no intention of letting the man leave in one piece.
“Teddy!” Marcelo called out, summoning his trusted ally forward. Teddy stepped forward with confidence, his expression betraying little of the turmoil brewing within him.
“Yes, boss?” Teddy responded, his voice steady as he stood beside the tattooed man.
“Assign a spot to him,” Marcelo ordered, his tone brooking no argument. In an instant, the man found himself on his knees before Marcelo, his fate sealed by a single command.
Theressa watched in horror as the scene unfolded before her, her stomach churning with disgust at the brutality on display. She had stained her hands with blood before, but the thought of burying someone alive was a punishment beyond comprehension. Despite her revulsion towards the man, she couldn’t bear to see him suffer such a fate. A quick death would be a mercy compared to the agony that awaited him.
As she took a step forward, intent on intervening, a hand gripped her arm, pulling her back. It was Mary, her expression unreadable as she whispered words of caution.
“Let him handle it,” Mary urged, her voice barely above a whisper. Theressa was taken aback by her mother’s cold demeanor, unable to reconcile the woman before her with the loving mother she once knew. She longed to ask her mother questions, to seek comfort and guidance in her time of need, but Mary’s steely resolve left her feeling abandoned and alone.
As Marcelo made his final pronouncement and trashed the gloves before retreating to his car, Theressa felt a lump form in her throat. She watched in silence as her mother turned away, leaving her to grapple with her conflicting emotions.
“Mum?” Theressa called out, her voice trembling with uncertainty. But Mary’s departure was swift, leaving Theressa to wrestle with her own doubts and fears.
As they drove back to Marcelo’s mansion in silence, Theressa’s mind was consumed by thoughts of her parents. She barely noticed Marcelo’s cautious driving, her gaze fixed on the cityscape passing by outside the car window.
Upon their arrival, Theressa had begun to make her way to the room assigned to her mother, her mind still reeling from the revelation she had received.
“Theressa” Marcelo’s gentle touch on her wrist drew her attention, and she turned to him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Marcelo called her with a soft tone, pity and worry laced in his tone but Pricilla didn’t take notice.
“Your mum…” Marcelo began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. Theressa’s heart pounded in her chest as she waited for him to continue, her body tense with anticipation.
Finally, Marcelo retrieved a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Theressa, his expression filled with pity. As she unfolded the paper, It was her mother’s writing, she could tell from a first glance. Theressa’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes went down the paper. Each word felt like a dagger to her heart, tearing through her defenses and leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed.
Theressa’s one sparkling bright eyes now dull.
Theressa’s world shattered as she absorbed the truth revealed in her mother’s letter. The pain of betrayal cut deep, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. Her father’s death had always been a painful mystery, but to learn that he had been killed in her mother’s place was a revelation that shook her to the core.
Theressa felt a surge of anger and resentment towards her mother. How could Mary have kept such a devastating secret from her daughter? How could she have sacrificed her husband’s life without a second thought, leaving Theressa to grow up without a father?
Theressa grappled with her emotions, she couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of abandonment. Her mother’s actions had left her feeling adrift, betrayed by the one person she had trusted above all others. Mary’s betrayal cut deeper than any wound, leaving Theressa feeling alone and vulnerable in a world that suddenly seemed hostile and unforgiving.
She reflected on her mother’s actions, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the story than met the eye. Mary’s betrayal had left her feeling bitter and resentful, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was something else at play, something she had yet to uncover.
But one thing was certain, not just Mary had disappointed her but Marcelo. Marcelo had betrayed her.