Page 14 of The Price of Mercy

He froze on the spot.

His pulse roared in his ears; his breath caught in his throat as his wide eyes took in the devastation. It was overwhelming; the injuries, the sheer volume of blood, the cries of pain. He had seen blood before, had saved people on the brink of death, but never like this. Never in a world where bullets and bombs dictated life and death.

Someone grabbed his arm, and he jolted back to reality. Matteo’s face swam into focus, his usual smirk replaced by a sharp, serious expression. “Snap out of it, Doc. They need you.”

Julian sucked in a breath, forcing his shaking hands to steady. His training kicked in like second nature, pushing aside fear and panic. His legs moved before he could think, taking him to the nearest injured man, a soldier clutching his side, his face twisted in agony as blood seeped through his fingers.

Julian dropped to his knees, peeling away the man’s ruined shirt. “I need gauze, antiseptic, anything clean!” he shouted. A second later, someone shoved a first aid kit into his hands. He barely registered who, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was stopping the bleeding.

His hands worked quickly, pressing gauze to the wound to stem the flow. The man groaned, his body twitching in pain. Julian pried the man’s fingers away, replacing them with firm pressure from his own hands as he ripped open a pack of sutures with his teeth. Sweat beaded on his brow as he threaded the needle with practiced precision, his fingers moving deftly despite the shaking that still lingered from the explosion’s shock.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned, though the man was already gritting his teeth in preparation. Julian worked quickly, the needle piercing flesh as he stitched the wound closed with steady, deliberate motions. Each loop, each knot had to be perfect, there was no room for error. Blood still seeped around the edges, but at least now, it wasn’t pouring like a dam had burst.

As soon as he was satisfied, he tightened a bandage over the sutures and turned to the next patient. Another man lay sprawled on the ground, a deep gash stretching from his collarbone down his chest. His breathing was ragged, his skin pale. Julian pressed his fingers to the man’s pulse; too weak, too slow.

“Tourniquet,” he barked, and someone shoved a strip of cloth into his hands. He tied it tightly above the wound, slowing the bleeding before reaching for a roll of gauze. His hands were slick with blood as he wrapped the injury, his jaw clenched in frustration. If they didn’t get these men to a proper medical facility soon, some wouldn’t make it.

A third man groaned nearby; his leg bent at an unnatural angle. Julian’s stomach clenched, but he forced himself to focus. He felt along the bone, cursing under his breath. A break. And a bad one.

“Hold him down,” he ordered, barely glancing at the men who moved to follow his command. The injured man thrashed weakly, groaning as Julian positioned his hands. “This is going to be hell, but it has to be done.”

With a sharp, forceful movement, he set the bone back into place. The man let out a strangled scream before falling into unconsciousness. Julian exhaled, his hands shaking from exertion as he grabbed a splint and secured the leg.

Through it all, he felt Enzo’s gaze on him, watching, assessing. But Julian had no time to think about what the Mafia boss saw when he looked at him now.

Right now, Julian was the only thing standing between these men and death.

And he refused to let them die.

Chapter 10

Fire and Ice

The days following the explosion at the meeting were a storm of chaos and tension. Enzo Moretti sat in his study, the dim light of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. His jaw was clenched, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the polished surface of his desk.

The meeting had been a disaster, an ambush disguised as diplomacy, and though Enzo had expected treachery, the sheer audacity of the attack had left him seething. Worse, it had put Julian in harm’s way, something Enzo hadn’t anticipated and didn’t appreciate.

The door to the study creaked open, and Luca stepped inside, his expression grim. “We’ve identified the men responsible. They were hired by De Luca. No surprise there.”

Enzo’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of rage burning in their depths. “De Luca’s getting bold. Too bold. He’s forgotten who runs this city.”

Luca nodded; his tone cautious. “What do you want to do?”

Enzo leaned back in his chair, his mind already working through the possibilities. “Send a message. Make it clear that any further attempts on my life, or my people, will be met with consequences they can’t afford.”

Luca hesitated, his gaze flicking to the door. “And Julian? He’s been… difficult. The men are starting to notice.”

Enzo’s lips twitched, a mix of irritation and amusement. Difficult was an understatement. Since the meeting, Julian had been a constant thorn in his side. The doctor had patched up the injured men with his usual skill and precision, but he hadn’t held back his disdain for Enzo or the world he represented. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t there by choice, and his defiance was as infuriating as it was intriguing.

“Leave Julian to me,” Enzo said, his voice low. “He’s my problem.”

Luca nodded and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Enzo sat in silence for a moment, his thoughts turning to the doctor. Julian was unlike anyone he’d ever met; brave, stubborn, and unafraid to speak his mind, even when it put him in danger. It was a dangerous combination, one that both frustrated and fascinated Enzo. He wasn’t used to people challenging him, especially not someone as seemingly fragile as Julian. And yet, there was a fire in the doctor that refused to be extinguished, a strength that Enzo couldn’t help but admire.

???

Later that evening, Enzo found Julian in the mansion’s medical suite, organizing supplies with a precision that bordered onobsessive. The room was small but well-equipped, a testament to Enzo’s foresight in having a fully functional medical space on the premises. Julian didn’t look up as Enzo entered, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Enzo said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

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