Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4)

by Veronica Lancet

  "Ah, a non-believer. I see," he nods to himself.

  "I told him he wouldn't be well received because he doesn't believe," Joaquin interjects.

  "He does not believe yet he is here. There is always a reason," he says, moving around the small space and offering us some freshly brewed tea.

  "Tell me, stranger. What plagues you?"

  He sits us on the floor, settling next to us and completing a circle of three.

  "I have some episodes," I tentatively start, slowly recounting my issue. I may not believe in this, but the mere possibility that it might work, should it just be a fluke, pushes me forward.

  I need her.

  Sisi is my only impetus for moving forward, even when the entire process is so antithetic to my core beliefs.

  "I see," el viejo responds, studying me, his shrewd eyes taking in everything.

  "You're desperate," he continues, and Joaquin chuckles.

  "The mere fact he's here means he's more than desperate. You've heard of him, abuelo, el Supay."

  El viejo doesn't answer, still looking at me.

  "You rule over death, when life is right in front of you," he says quietly. "I will help you, stranger. But not because you deserve it," he pins me down with his stare. "For you know you do not."

  I nod at his words, the mere fact that I'd put my hand on Sisi making me the least worthy son of a bitch to ever exist.

  "But because someone else deserves it. And through you, they will get what they deserve," he continues cryptically, and I frown.

  "Don't," he puts a hand up when I'm about to speak. "We may have just met, stranger, but I know you." He pauses, the air swirling around, tension mounting. "You who profess no god and no religion but take science as your creed. But now there is no science and here you are." His words stilted, his phrases are mysterious at best as he continues to bare my entire identity.

  "I know your problem," his hand comes up to touch my forehead. "It's here and," the hand moves lower until it hovers over my heart. "Your head rules everything, your heart six feet under. You cannot understand when you've never tried to listen."

  "My episodes must be rooted in my absent memories," I speak, looking him square in the eye. "And that is a matter of only this," I say as I point to my brain. "It's faulty, and I've heard that your potions may help with that."

  El viejo stares at me for a second before he starts chuckling.

  "Stranger," he smiles, "your problem is not a faulty mind. You cannot tell a dog to run while holding the leash," he responds, again his words haphazardly indirect. "Let go, and everything will go with it," he says, rising up.

  "Go to sleep. All of you. Tomorrow we will start," he doesn't even spare us a glance as he leaves the cabin.

  "He winked at me," Vanya comes closer to giddily whisper in my ear. I just roll my eyes at her.

  But as I'm falling asleep, I can't help but continue contemplating his words, excitement simmering inside of me in spite of the way my logical brain is trying to pull the brakes on this.

  The following day, cup in my hand, I see el viejo looking at me expectantly so I just chug it. We'd spent the entire day in preparation for this one moment — the consumption of the ayahuasca. El viejo had talked most of the day, trying to push me past my own biases and prejudices and to embrace the unknown.

  Unfortunately, his words had gone on blind ears. And as I wait for the brew to take effect, I realize it's not working. Not one hour later, not even five. Not even the following day.

  "You're not ready for the ayahuasca, stranger, and she does not deem to help you if you cannot help yourself."

  "What do you mean?" I frown.

  "Here," he pushes his finger towards my chest. "You're holding so tightly to your control, over your mind, over everything. You need to let it go," he says blankly.

  "I can't," I reply honestly. I give up control when I lose my mind in my episodes, I'm not about to let that happen while I'm in control... while I can help it.

  "But see, that's just your problem. You hold it all in so, so tightly. Things want to come out, and they do the only way they can. They seek cracks, and when they find them, they ambush them in order to get out. Your episodes are merely representation of that which you don't want out," he tells me, his words stunning me.

  Because I don't want things to get out.

  "How?" the words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself. How could I do this when I know that once I open the gates, hell will come crashing down.

  "Slowly," he grunts, telling me to follow him.

  Almost two months later, days filled with hard labor and meditation, and el viejo finally deems me ready to try ayahuasca again.

  For the first time I'd put my own prejudices aside and I'd allowed him to guide me, from telling me what I should gather from the jungle, to building things with my own hands, and finally to blanking my mind and let myself go—even if just for a minute.

  We'd started slow, and he's tried to target the rage I have within me. Breathing exercises on top of daily sessions of meditations seem to have done wonders to my mood, and for the first time I'm optimistic about the future.

  Joaquin too, had been quite shocked by the effort I'd put in. He left me here after a couple of days and has only recently returned, curious of my progress.

  "You've done a lot in this short time, stranger," el viejo tells me, handing me my cup of freshly brewed ayahuasca.

  In the time I've been here, I'd also had the opportunity to learn more about the flora and fauna of the region, and especially what makes these plants so sought after. El viejo told me about his ancestors and how they used these plants to communicate with those beyond.

  While I have not suddenly become a believer, I've certainly started to listen and analyze things from their perspective, figuring culture, geography and topography into how these plants are perceived and why some are even venerated.

  I bring the cup to my lips, tasting the bitter liquid and giving a small thanks to mother nature for everything she'd given me these past few weeks. Closing my eyes, I will myself to relax, knowing that this time it will work.

  "I am here, stranger. Let ayahuasca guide you on your journey," I hear el viejo's voice as the blackness of my closed lids starts shifting into colors and shapes, the entire space shifting with me until I feel myself shrinking down into the size of a particle.

  My breath labored, I feel my heart beating strongly in my chest, my veins working hard to pump my blood. It's like every sound is magnified, or maybe in my small stature I'm just closer to these sounds.

  I feel... everything. I hear the buzzing of the bees, and crickets, and every other creature crawling on this earth. I open my eyes and I can almost touch the particles of light, so fine and separated in the ether as they greet my being.

  Am I or am I not?

  I don't even know what I am... or who I am, as I let myself fall and become one with the nature. The entirety of my history falls away as I take in the vastness of the sea, fear entirely absent as I let myself be carried by the waves, not even caring that they may drown my small self.

  Water floods my senses, until I'm back on shore again.

  I look around and there is not a soul in the vicinity, the expanse of land infinite for what my eyes can take it.

  I walk around for what seems like an eternity before I spot something else.

  A rabbit.

  A small white rabbit hops towards me, stopping when he's a few steps away. His eyes are bloody red as he looks upon me.

  It blinks. Then it runs.

  I don't know why, but I follow, running after the tiny creature until I hit a brick wall, my entire body reeling from the impact.

  "What..." I whisper, raising my head to regard the looming wall. Even as I look to the sky, I cannot seem to find its end point.

  "Here," I hear a voice call to me, and without even thinking I follow. The voice gets increasingly louder, until I find myself in another room, this time filled with children.

&
nbsp; I'm in the middle of the crowd as tens of children swarm around me, all of them screaming and yelling and protesting something.

  Suddenly, they turn their eyes on me, noticing my presence for the first time. Their features draw up in anger and they give a shout before chasing me.

  I don't even know how I evade them. I just run and run and run. My feet carry me to places I shouldn't be able to access. My body reacts first, and then my mind follows.

  I watch how under my eyes, the background changes again, walls erecting around me, steel machinery appearing everywhere.

  "That's it, my little miracle," I hear someone say, his breath next to my ear. "The aorta is the largest artery in the body. You've learned your lesson well," he praises, putting a silver tray with different instruments in front of me.

  "Let's see how you put it into practice, too. Dissect the aorta from beginning to end, and you may earn a prize."

  I nod, grabbing on to the instruments that I know by name by now. Every step, every technical term, it's embedded in my mind as I start the dissection, cutting into live flesh, the screams of my subject deafening yet so familiar that I don't even mind them.

  I am entirely focused on pleasing the man watching behind me, knowing that if I do, the reward will be good indeed — and not only for me.

  I bring the scalpel down on his chest, removing all skin and flesh from bone, cutting into muscle until the sternum is visible. Then, I switch to different instruments to open his chest cavity to get access to his heart.

  Blood comes out in spurts, my technique new and unpracticed. But I don't mind it as my sole goal is to bring this to an end and get my sister a new set of clothes.

  Sister.

  Where did that thought come from?

  I have a sister?

  I raise my head up from the opened up carcass in front of me, and I see her.

  She's small, so excruciatingly small as she holds on to the rabbit I'd chased earlier. She notices me looking at her and she turns to me slowly, giving me a dazzling smile.

  "You're back, brother," she whispers, warmth dripping from her tone.

  "V..." I start, the name stuck on my tongue.

  A light tremor goes through my surroundings, mounting until the very building I'm in starts shaking, the walls crumbling.

  "V!" I yell to her, extending my hand out to her to get her to safety. But she just shakes her head, her arms tightening over the rabbit.

  The entire structure collapses, and yet none of the debris touches me.

  I blink and waves start crashing into me, the water so red you'd think it was blood.

  "Run." I hear Vanya's voice in my head, so I do, the waves following me. One look back and like a tsunami, the waves are becoming taller and taller.

  I open my mouth to reply to her, but everything happens at once. The water swallows me whole, inundating my senses. I taste the metallic hint of blood in my mouth, and as I try my best to fight against it, I can't do anything as I start choking on it.

  "You shouldn't have come here, brother," my sister tells me as she slowly comes towards me. I'm still coughing up blood, the scenery changed again.

  A sterile white room, devoid of anything but me and Vanya.

  "V?" I ask, my voice ragged.

  "You should have stayed back. You survived after all, and isn't life the best gift of all?" she asks, crouching down in front of me.

  "V... what's happening?"

  "There's a reason why you can't remember, Vlad. It was the only way to keep living," she tells me, her voice sad and rueful.

  "I don't understand."

  "Don't you? We've been together since birth. I know you best," she turns her gaze to me, "my twin, my very own flesh. My protector. But what happened to us there..." she takes a deep breath. "You won't be the same if you remember, Vlad." Her voice is gentle as her hand covers mine.

  "I need to. I need to find Miles and make him pay and..." I trail off.

  "I know what you want, brother mine. Your secrets have never been a secret. You want to be worthy of her love," she sighs, standing up and pacing the room. "But I fear you won't be able to handle the memories."

  "I can," I reply, my voice resolute. "I can," I repeat with even more confidence.

  "Maybe you are ready... maybe you've finally grown," she whispers, almost to herself.

  Planting herself in front of me, she materializes a knife, handing it to me.

  "Then do it. Finish off the one thing that stands between you and the past," she instructs as she closes my hand over the hilt of the knife.

  "What... what do you mean?" I croak, my eyes wide.

  "I've stood by your side all these years, brother mine. I've watched over you, steering you in what I thought was the right direction. But I see that I've failed you," she turns her head to the side, a lone tear falling down. "I've let you use me as a buffer, so you never had to face what really happened. But no more," she shakes her head, wiping at her eyes.

  "V... I don't understand."

  "You need to let me go, Vlad. Let me return where I belong so you too can return where you belong."

  She orients the knife with the tip towards her heart, pushing it slightly.

  "No... no... I can't," I suddenly say, the prospect of never seeing her again too scary to contemplate.

  "She'll be there for you, brother. Lean on her as you leaned on me. Even more," she smiles sadly. "But for that you have to let her in. No more secrets, no more omissions," she pauses. "Tell her about me," she pushes the knife a little deeper.

  "No, V. I can't do this. You're..." I trail off, tears in my eyes.

  "I'm part of you, Vlad. I've always been. But I'm also... more," her mouth curls up, "and you need to let me go."

  "V..." I shake my head, my heart beating loudly in my chest.

  "You've suppressed everything, brother. But it's all in here," she touches her finger to my head. "You just have to let it all come back."

  "Will it help the episodes?" I ask, ashamed to even contemplate this.

  "Episodes," Vanya chuckles and I frown. "I'm afraid those are my fault. I tried so hard to seal the rift in your mind... banish all the bad memories, that I didn't expect they would fight me back. They should lessen once I'm gone, just as your memories should slowly come back."

  "You mean..." I blink disoriented, her words strange and yet making sense.

  "I've been your shield for too long, Vlad. I'm tired. Please let me go," she whispers, pushing the knife even deeper.

  "V..."

  "Please, brother." She turns her eyes to me, those black irises so similar to my own, and I realize I have a choice to make.

  "Thank you, V. For keeping me company for so long. And I'm sorry," I whisper, finally pushing the knife into her heart.

  A sad smile appears on her face, and as she closes her eyes, her form dissipates in the air.

  And for the first time, I know it's forever.

  "Goodbye, sister mine. I love you." I whisper, closing my eyes.

  The next time I open my eyes I'm back in the hut, el viejo sitting next to me meditating.

  "You're back," he says without looking at me.

  "I am..." I respond, my eyes roving around the room, looking for her.

  Swiftly getting up, I head outside, still searching her with my eyes.

  "She's gone, stranger," el viejo says. "It's for the best."

  "How..." I'm about to ask him how he knows about her in the first place, but one glance at his secretive expression and I realize some things are not meant to be understood.

  "She said the episodes will lessen with time," I explain what Vanya had told me, el viejo nodding expectantly as if he'd been sure of the outcome from the beginning.

  "You need to face your main trigger. Blood. Most likely it's one of the things that made you block your memories, but also the thing that will bring them back," he states, going over a few things that might help me.

  "Thank you," I tell him honestly, my skepticism falling away for the fir
st time.

  There's a lightness inside of me that wasn't there before, as if I could spread nonexistent wings and fly.

  "Don't thank me yet, stranger. There's much work to be done yet," he says, going over another plan of meditations and ayahuasca treatments. "These should hasten the return of your memory."

  I nod, ready to follow all his instructions.

  It's a couple days later when I head back into Manu to meet with Joaquin and get some resources from the village that my phone rings for the first time in months.

  "Why, hi there, old pal," I joke when I see it's Marcello.

  "Wow, you finally deign to answer your phone," he says drily. "I've been trying to reach you for weeks."

  "Well, here I am. What's up?"

  "I wanted to thank you for your help with Nicolo. And with everything," he takes a deep breath, and for the first time I'm stunned by something Marcello's said.

  "You're welcome."

  He coughs slightly. "As a peace offering, I've been trying to reach you to invite you to the wedding. But you've been MIA for so long, it's already tomorrow," he chuckles.

  "What wedding?"

  Is he renewing his vows with Catalina? Somehow that's sweet.

  "My sister, Assisi, is getting married to one of Benedicto's sons," he starts, but I stop listening after hearing Sisi's name. My entire body goes slack, and I find it hard to breathe.

  "What did you say?" I ask brusquely.

  "She's had the worst of luck," Marcello sighs. "She realized she was pregnant earlier last month so we've tried to push the wedding so there wouldn't be a scandal," he continues, but I tune everything out.

  My phone falls out of my hand, my feet barely holding me upright.

  Sisi. Marriage. Pregnant.

  I bring my fist to my chest, punching myself as hard as I can, feeling an incoming attack.

  I wanted to do the right thing for once. Become a worthy man for her. But it seems I'm bound to be the villain anyway, because there's nothing in hell or any infernal dimension stopping me from taking her back.

  Even if she'll hate me even more.

  My blood is pounding in my veins, and I feel myself slipping again.

  Fuck, but just the thought of her with another man is enough to make me want to raze the village to the ground.