Page 68 of The Price of Mercy
He stares at me for a long, silent moment. “Is that what you’re doing with my daughter? Using her to absorb the business? There’s no money in it. If you want a lavish lifestyle, you’ll have to look elsewhere.”
The implication that I’m using Mercy rubs me the wrong way. My smile sharpens. “I’m living in an abandoned building. Do I look like I care for luxury?”
“You look like you’re in love with my daughter.”
I hadn’t realized it was that obvious. “I am,” I admit slowly, trying to gauge his reaction. But unlike his daughter, Vinicius has one hell of a poker face. I can’t read him at all. “But I haven’t told her yet, so I’d appreciate if you kept that to yourself.”
Another moment of silence passes between us. “You’re also in love with that other boy.”
I nod. “They both mean a lot to me, and I want to make them happy.” To do that, I need to make some lifestyle changes, starting with my profession. If I can’t kill people anymore, at least I can stick to what I know. Besides, being with Mercy guarantees that I’ll always have a creative outlet. “I think the three of us could be good together. We’re still figuring things out, obviously, but…” A small smile curves on my lips. “I want this to work, and I’m willing to put in the work to ensure that it does.” I meet Vinny’s steady gaze. “That’s why I’m here. I’d like to run the business with Mercy. I know she hasn’t talked about it, and I haven’t brought it up with her yet, but?—”
Vinicius holds up his hand to stop me. “That’s a conversation you’ll have to have with my daughter. She’s…” He searches for the right word. “Hesitant. But you have to understand—this place may hold memories of both the dead and the living, but it’s the dead who prevail. That’s why my eldest daughter doesn’t come around much. Everything you see in this room, in this building, was put here by my late wife.”
Mercy doesn’t talk about her mom. I perk up at the mention of her.
He brushes his hand across the tabletop lovingly. “She thrifted many of the pieces here, along with what you’ll find in the house. What hasn’t been inherited, that is.”
Something about the Morningstars’ lack of funds has been bothering Zane. He’s been driving himself crazy looking at their bookkeeping, tracking their payment history, and hunting down their investments. I suspect that it has everything to do with Samuel Wright and his claim of ownership on the property and its people—but I’ll admit, the details go over my head.
If I’m going to take care of Mercy from now on, I need to step up, too, but in my own way. I thought that handling the businesswould be a proper contribution, but if it goes under, then what’s the point?
I need to figure out how to save Morningstar Mortuary, and to do that, I need to understand where the bleed is. Zane can track leads and mutter to his keyboard all he wants. I’ll ask the source.
“How is it that you’re busy as fuck but not making bank?”
Vinicius cracks a genuine smile. “You’re not one to mince words, are you?”
I match his smile. “I don’t like to waste time.”
Shaking his head, he chuckles under his breath. “That’ll be a welcome change around here.” His gaze roams the room before he stands. “This is hardly the place for me to dredge up bad memories. Let’s take a walk.”
We step out the back door and into the crisp afternoon air. Sunlight warms our skin but proves just how sickly Vinicius’ pallor is. Thinning hair, tired eyes, but harboring a sense of inner peace the moment we step onto the back lot. A sprawling meadow, complete with knee-high weeds and thorny twigs, stretches for at least half a mile until it hits a dense evergreen forest. Vinicius steps over briars and makes a beeline for an old, cement picnic table. A mossy birdbath, long abandoned by its avian friends, sits beside it.
Vinny takes a seat while I opt to stand and face the road in case someone drives up.
“My wife and I,” he begins after a moment, “made a risky business decision long ago. It turned out to be a bad deal, and Ingrid…” His eyes cloud as his mind drifts into the past. “Well, she was more than happy to make the most of a sour situation. Turn lemons into lemonade, and all that. We were newly married, and she was invested in our business.” He flicks his gaze towards me. “Sort of like you.”
Pride swells inside my chest. That’s one more point in my favor. I have a feeling that Vinny’s ready to move on to the next part of his story, so I circle back around to the important details. “What kind of deal was it?”
If he’s suspicious, he doesn’t let on. “An investor. Ingrid was convinced that if we could breathe more life into the business, create a few newspaper ads, put our faces on a billboard, that the clients would roll in. So that’s what we did: found an investor who promised that we’d see a turn-around. With his financial support and connections, we were supposed to be set for life and ensure that our children would have equity once we eventually passed. I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.”
“The clients never came.”
“The opposite, actually. They disappeared altogether. A few families that have worked with us for generations have stayed loyal, but as they grow older and their children move away, there aren’t many left for us to bury. As for attracting new clients, well, most people live within the city limits, so they look for services closer to home. We live on the outskirts; it’s harder to drum up business when no one knows who we are. I’d thought that Lilith could help with that since she lives in the city, but I don’t think her heart is in it, and Mercy’s been focusing on her studies. I don’t have staff to run our daily operations or handle the marketing for me, so I’m left to handle everything on my own. If it weren’t for what few jobs Samuel brings each month, we’d close for good.”
Alarm bells ring inside my head. “Your investor is Samuel Wright?”
I’m not sure that he hears me. “They’re just enough to keep us afloat but not enough for us to thrive. For years, he’s fed us table scraps.” Vinny clenches his jaw. “Even if Mercy were interested in taking over, I can’t—” His voice shakes. “I can’tgive it to her like this. I won’t ask her to suffer for the sake of preserving a dying legacy.”
Well, shit. I hadn’t realized how fucking bad it was. A new coat of paint and a sign in the yard aren’t gonna cut it. We need an intervention—or,a smart as fuck techie who can work his magic and drum up business. Good thing I have one in my back pocket.
“I can help. Zane and me, we can figure it out. I’ll be the face and he’ll be the logistics. You shouldn’t have to do everything on your own.” Mercy can fit in wherever she damn well pleases. As far as I’m concerned, it’s her company, not mine. Whatever she wants to do within it, run the damn thing, paint a mural on the walls, maintain communications with clients—I don’t give a damn so long as she’s with us. “Do you have a contract or something? With Wright, I mean. Surely it’s expired by now.” I can’t fathom a document living longer than Mercy’s been alive. “We can pick up where you and your wife first began.”
“That’s not possible.”
Is he going to dispute every fucking thing I say? “Why the hell not?”
“Because—” He glares into the distance. “My wife handled everything. The legal fees. The signatures. Whatever she agreed to with Samuel, she took to her grave, and I haven’t been able to get a single word out of Samuel or his legal team. They won’t budge, and I can’t find a lawyer in the state who will take my case, because Samuel’s paying them all off.” The fury for the fight dies as quickly as it sparks, engulfed by a bone-weary sigh that makesmefeel depressed.
