Page 13 of The Price of Mercy

The room was a battlefield of dust and wreckage. The other bosses, dazed but alive, were already pushing toward the exits, their men forming protective barriers around them. Enzo didn’t have the luxury of time to figure out who had done this. He could barely hear past the ringing in his ears, but one thing was clear.

This hadn’t been an accident. This was another attempt on his life.

And whoever was responsible wasn’t finished yet.

Chapter 9

Aftermath

The night air hit them like a shock of ice, the bitter wind laced with smoke and the acrid scent of burning rubble. Shouts and the distant wail of approaching sirens rang in Julian’s ears, but everything felt distorted, like he was moving through water.

He barely had time to register what was happening before rough hands shoved him forward, forcing him into the backseat of a sleek black SUV.

His breath came in short, panicked bursts. His hands shook as he clutched them into fists, trying to steady himself, trying to force air into his lungs.

This isn’t real. This isn’t happening.

His mind reeled, replaying the explosion over and over in a horrible loop; the deafening boom, the searing heat, the way the walls had seemed to collapse in on them. Julian squeezed his eyes shut, but the images wouldn’t go away.

The door slammed shut beside him, and a presence filled the seat next to him. Enzo. His scent, cologne mixed with gunpowder and smoke, was suffocating in the confined space.The SUV roared to life, tires screeching as it sped away from the burning wreckage of the meeting hall.

Julian’s heart pounded against his ribs, his body tense as if expecting another explosion, another impact, something. He turned toward Enzo, his voice barely more than a rasp. “What the hell just happened?”

Enzo exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “Someone wants me dead.” His tone was grim, but his expression remained unreadable, as if this was just another night for him.

Julian let out a harsh laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Someone wants you dead?” He turned his wide, disbelieving eyes on Enzo. “Are you serious? We were just bombed!”

Enzo didn’t flinch. “Regular Tuesday in my world, Doc.”

Julian’s stomach twisted. He felt sick. The weight of what had just occurred crashed into him all at once. He had almost died. He should have died. If he had been standing just a few feet closer to the blast, he wouldn’t be sitting here now.

His breaths came faster, his chest tightening with each inhale. His fingers dug into his knees, trying to ground himself, but nothing felt real. The world was spinning.

Enzo turned to him, eyes dark with something unreadable. “Breathe.”

Julian snapped his head up, anger breaking through the panic. “Don’t tell me to breathe! You dragged me into this, and now I...” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. “I almost died tonight.” His voice shook. “I don’t belong here. I shouldn’t be here.”

Enzo studied him for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. “You’re here now.”

Julian let out a strangled sound of frustration. “That’s not an answer!”

The SUV hit a sharp turn, making Julian lurch forward before Enzo’s hand shot out, steadying him with a firm grip on his arm. The touch sent a jolt through Julian, not from fear, but something else entirely. He yanked his arm away, his pulse hammering for too many reasons to count.

Silence settled between them, thick with things unsaid. The only sound was Julian’s still-shaky breathing and the distant hum of the tires against the road.

After what felt like an eternity, Enzo spoke again, his voice quieter. “You’re safe now.”

Julian turned to him, his expression a mixture of disbelief and something bordering on desperation. “Am I?”

Enzo didn’t answer.

And that silence was answer enough.

???

The SUV screeched to a halt in front of the mansion, the iron gates closing behind them as armed guards rushed forward. The moment the doors flew open, the chaos inside spilled out.

Shouting filled the air, frantic voices barking orders, desperate cries of pain cutting through the night. The driveway was a battlefield of its own; men staggered about, some covered in blood, others barely able to stand. A few had been too close to the explosion and now bore the consequences: shredded clothing, burnt flesh, and deep wounds leaking crimson onto thestone pavement. The scent of smoke and iron was thick in the air, making Julian's stomach churn.

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