Page 12 of The Price of Mercy

Julian’s stomach twisted as he listened to the exchange. He couldn’t believe the audacity of these men, sitting around a table and talking about war as if it were a business transaction. He thought about the lives that would be lost, the families thatwould be torn apart, all because of their greed and pride. It made him sick.

But what scared him more was the way Enzo handled himself. He was calm, collected, and utterly in control. Julian had seen glimpses of this side of him before, but never like this. It was both terrifying and mesmerizing, and Julian hated himself for feeling even a flicker of admiration.

???

Enzo scanned the room, his sharp gaze flicking from one boss to the next, measuring every glance, every twitch of their hands, every subtle shift in their posture. They were all playing the same game, hiding their intentions behind calm expressions and carefully chosen words. But Enzo had been raised in this world, he knew how to read between the lines.

Rossi, the man who had spoken last, leaned forward slightly, his manicured hands resting on the table. His tone was measured, but Enzo knew better. Rossi was a snake, always watching for the moment to strike. If he wasn’t behind the hit, he would still use the chaos to his advantage.

Then there was Salvatore Costa, an older man with the scar across his face. He had once been an ally of Enzo’s father, but alliances in their world were fickle. The way he watched Enzo now, waiting for a misstep, set his teeth on edge.

But it was Giovanni De Luca , the oldest among them, who truly concerned him. The man had been in this game longer than most of them had been alive. His influence stretched beyond their city, and he had a reputation for pulling strings from theshadows. If anyone had orchestrated the attack, it was likely him or someone under his command.

Enzo clenched his jaw. The attempt on his life hadn’t been sloppy. It had been precise, calculated. A warning. And the fact that no one had stepped forward to claim responsibility meant the attacker was either biding their time or waiting to see if Enzo would crumble under pressure.

But he wouldn’t. That much, he would make clear tonight.

“You want answers?” Enzo’s voice cut through the silence, drawing every eye back to him. “So do I. Someone tried to take me out, and they failed. That means they’re still out there, still a threat to every one of us in this room.”

Rossi smirked, shaking his head. “You assume we should care about your problems, Moretti.”

Enzo met his gaze, unflinching. “If they were bold enough to come after me, what makes you think they won’t come for you next?”

That wiped the smirk from Rossi’s face.

Salvatore Costa leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the table. “And what do you propose we do?”

Enzo let the moment stretch before speaking. “I propose we find whoever did this before they make another move. Because if I have to find them myself, I won’t stop at just them; I’ll go after every single person who gave them the means to act.”

A dangerous promise. One that sent a ripple of unease through the room.

Costa chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Spoken like your father.”

Enzo’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t take the bait. Instead, he let the silence settle, waiting for them to weigh the threat he had just placed on the table.

“Let me be clear,” he finally said, his voice quiet but carrying. “I’m not weak. I’m not losing control. Whoever did this will pay. And if any of you had a hand in it…” His eyes flicked over each of them, lingering just long enough to make his point. “You won’t live long enough to regret it.”

The room was silent for several beats before De Luca exhaled sharply and sat back, a hint of grudging respect in his expression. “Then I suppose we have nothing to discuss until you bring us the name of your attacker.”

???

As the meeting came to a close, the tension in the room had only thickened. The bosses exchanged wary glances as they prepared to leave, their expressions a mixture of distrust and calculation. Enzo remained seated, his mind racing through the night’s conversation, analyzing every word, every gesture. Someone in this room, either knew who had orchestrated the attempt on his life, or had been directly responsible. He needed to figure out which.

Then, without warning, the ground beneath them trembled.

A deafening explosion ripped through the building, the force of it shaking the walls and sending a shockwave through the room. The overhead lights flickered violently before plunging the room into darkness. Glass shattered somewhere in the distance, followed by the sharp, panicked shouts of men scrambling for cover.

Enzo barely had time to react before the blast sent him tumbling backward, his chair skidding across the floor. The heat of the explosion seared the air, thick smoke rushing in as debris rained from above. His ears rang, a shrill, piercing noise that drowned out the chaos around him.

He coughed against the acrid smoke filling his lungs, his instincts kicking in. His body screamed in protest as he forced himself up, vision blurred, ears still ringing. Through the haze, he could make out shadowy figures moving, some struggling to rise, others pulling weapons as they tried to orient themselves.

Another piece of the ceiling groaned before crashing down, sending dust and rubble into the already clouded air. Enzo turned sharply, searching for his brothers first; Matteo and Luca were already on their feet, their guns drawn, their expressions locked in a deadly calm. His gaze flicked to the corner of the room.

Julian.

The doctor was crouched low, his arms shielding his head as debris rained down around him. His face was pale, his breaths shallow, but he was unharmed, for now.

“Julian!” Enzo’s voice was hoarse as he staggered toward him. The younger man looked up, eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief. Enzo grabbed his arm, yanking him to his feet. “We need to move.”

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