Page 18 of The Price of Mercy

Julian swallowed hard; his throat dry as he watched the exchange with a strange sense of unease. It was disorienting, seeing Enzo like this, stripped of the ironclad walls he always seemed to have around him. There was no mockery, no frustration, just an unshakable steadiness. He didn’t speak to the driver like a man who had failed him, but like someone who deserved to be saved. And that... that didn’t fit with the image Julian had built of him.

The driver’s breathing hitched, a wet, gurgling sound that made Julian’s stomach turn. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment before he forced them open again, his entire body shuddering. "I..."

"Enough," Enzo murmured, and this time, there was no sharpness in his voice. Just quiet command, laced with something almost gentle. "Just hold on. That’s an order."

Julian exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him like a stone in his chest. He had been so sure that Enzo was nothing more than the hardened criminal he portrayed himself to be. That his presence in Julian’s life was nothing but a force of coercion and power. But now... now he wasn’t so certain.

And that unsettled him more than anything else.

The car was silent except for the driver’s ragged breathing and the faint hum of the engine. Julian’s hands were slick with blood, his fingers trembling slightly as he adjusted the pressure on the wound. He could feel the driver’s pulse weakening beneath his touch, the life slowly draining out of him despite Julian’s best efforts.

He wanted to say something, to offer some kind of reassurance, but the words caught in his throat. What could he say? That it would be okay? That help would come in time? He wasn’t even sure he believed it himself.

Enzo’s gaze flicked to Julian; his expression unreadable. “Can you save him?”

Julian hesitated, his mind racing. He wanted to say yes, to promise that he could fix this, but the truth was, he didn’t know. The wound was bad; too much blood loss, too little time. “I’ll do everything I can,” he said finally, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him.

Enzo nodded, his jaw tightening as he turned back to the driver. “You hear that? The doc’s going to fix you up. Just hold on a little longer.”

The driver’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face before it was replaced by a grimace of pain. His hand twitched, reaching weakly for Enzo’s, and for a moment, Julian thought Enzo might pull away. But instead, he took the driver’s hand in his own, his grip firm but gentle.

“You’re family,” Enzo said, his voice low and steady. “I don’t leave family behind.”

Julian’s breath caught in his throat, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had seen Enzo as a monster, a man who ruled through fear and intimidation. But now, for the first time, he was starting to suspect that it was a mask.

The driver’s grip tightened for a moment before his hand went limp, his eyes fluttering shut. Julian’s heart sank, but he didn’t stop working, his hands moving with a desperate urgency. He couldn’t lose him. Not like this.

“Stay with me,” Julian muttered, more to himself than to the driver. “Just stay with me.”

Enzo watched in silence; his expression unreadable. But Julian could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his emotions in check. For a man who prided himself on control, this was a rare moment of vulnerability, one that Julian couldn’t ignore.

The sound of approaching cars broke the silence, and Julian felt a flicker of hope. Help was coming. But as he looked down at the driver’s pale, lifeless face, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it might already be too late.

Enzo’s hand tightened around the driver’s, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not done yet. Not yet.”

Julian didn’t respond. He just kept pressing, his hands shaking as he did so. He couldn’t lose him. Not like this.

And as the cars grew louder, Julian couldn’t help but wonder if he was seeing the real Enzo for the first time, a man who carried the weight of an empire on his shoulders, who did what he had to do to protect the people who relied on him.

And the worst part? He didn’t hate that man.

Chapter 13

Fractured Certainties

Julian slumped into the chair, his limbs heavy, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. The dim light of the private medical room in Enzo’s mansion cast long shadows against the walls, flickering over the stark white sheets of the bed where the driver now lay, alive, but barely.

He had spent hours bent over the man, stitching torn flesh, stemming the relentless tide of blood, pushing himself past the limits of his own body to keep another person from slipping away. Now, his hands trembled faintly, the adrenaline that had carried him through the night finally giving way to the bone-deep fatigue clawing at him.

He should feel relieved. He had saved a life. That was all that mattered.

And yet…

His mind wouldn’t still, wouldn’t let go of the way the night had unfolded. The gunfire. The chaos. The way death had been inches from all of them. Julian had never been in a situation like that before; violence that immediate, that real. It had been different from treating gunshot wounds in the hospital, wherethe bullets had already done their damage. In that car, in the middle of the chase, he had felt death breathing down his neck, waiting to claim them.

And then there was Enzo.

Julian had expected cold indifference from the mafia boss; anger, maybe even blame toward the driver for getting shot in the first place. But what he had witnessed instead had shaken something in him. Enzo had been… steady. Not ruthless, not calculating; but comforting.

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