Page 2 of The Price of Mercy

“My apartment,” Julian replied cautiously. He hesitated before adding, “You were shot. I took the bullet out.”

The man exhaled sharply, wincing as he tried to shift. His muscles tensed, and Julian immediately placed a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down onto the couch. “Stay down. You lost a lot of blood.”

For a moment, the man simply stared at him, as if weighing whether to comply or fight back. Then, ignoring the advice completely, he gritted his teeth and forced himself upright with a groan. Julian cursed under his breath, watching as pain flashed across the man’s face, making his already pale complexion look even worse.

“Who else knows I’m here?” the man asked, his voice lower now, more dangerous.

Julian frowned. The way he asked that question made his stomach twist. This wasn’t normal behavior for an injured man. Most people were relieved to wake up somewhere safe, grateful to be alive. But this man was different. He was wary, suspicious, as if being here was just as dangerous as being out there, bleeding in the street.

“No one,” Julian said carefully. “Just me.”

The man studied him, his expression unreadable. Then, after a moment, he nodded. “Good.”

Julian’s fingers curled slightly, tension settling between his shoulders. There was something about the way the man said that, like it was a relief, but also a warning. He should have called the police. He should have asked more questions. But standing here, staring into the sharp gaze of a man who clearly had no intention of showing weakness, he found himself silent instead.

Julian exhaled, trying to ground himself. “Who are you?”

He was quiet for a long moment. It wasn’t hesitation, it was a decision being made in real time, Julian realized. Finally, the man spoke, his voice steady. “Enzo Moretti.”

The name sent ice through Julian’s veins. He didn’t have to be involved in the criminal world to recognize it. Enzo Moretti. The head of the Moretti crime family. A man both feared and respected in the underworld.

And now, Julian had saved his life.

Chapter 2

The Knock at the Door

The night had been long, and Julian’s mind was a whirlwind of fear and disbelief. After Enzo lost consciousness on the couch, Julian checked his vitals, relieved to find his pulse steady and his breathing even. The mafia boss was stable, but Julian’s own nerves were anything but.

He dragged a blanket over Enzo’s broad frame, tucking it around him as if that could somehow contain the danger the man represented. Then he retreated to his bedroom, locking the door behind him as if it could keep the reality of the situation at bay.

Julian’s apartment was small but tidy, a reflection of his meticulous nature. The living room, where Enzo now lay, was sparsely furnished; a worn but comfortable couch, a coffee table stacked with medical journals, and a single armchair by the window.

The walls were bare except for a framed diploma from medical school, a reminder of the life Julian had built for himself, far removed from the chaos of the city’s underworld. The faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound breakingthe silence, a mundane contrast to the storm raging in Julian’s mind.

He paced the small bedroom, running his hands through his disheveled hair. “What the hell were you thinking?” he muttered to himself. The room was equally modest, with a neatly made bed, a small desk cluttered with notes and textbooks, and a narrow closet. The blinds were drawn, but slivers of moonlight seeped through, casting faint stripes across the floor. Julian’s reflection in the mirror above the dresser looked back at him, pale and wide-eyed, a man caught in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

He had saved a man’s life, that was his job, his calling. But this wasn’t just any man. This was Enzo Moretti, a name that carried weight in the city, a name that whispered of violence and power. Julian had heard the stories, the rumors, the warnings. And now, that very man was lying on his couch, bleeding and vulnerable, yet still terrifying.

He collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind raced with questions.

What if Enzo’s enemies found him here? What if they thought Julian was involved in whatever mess had led to Enzo being shot? What if Enzo himself decided Julian was a liability once he woke up?

The thought sent a chill down his spine. He had no doubt the mafia boss could, and would, eliminate anyone who posed a threat to him.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and Julian fell into a fitful sleep, his dreams haunted by shadowy figures and the sound of gunfire.

???

The morning light filtered through the blinds, soft and golden, pulling Julian from his restless slumber. He blinked awake, the events of the previous night crashing back into his mind like a tidal wave. He sat up, his heart pounding, and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was just past 8 a.m. The apartment was quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of the curtains as a breeze drifted through the cracked window.

Julian crept to his bedroom door, unlocking it slowly and peeking out. Enzo was still on the couch, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The blanket Julian had draped over him had slipped slightly, revealing the bandage on his ribs.

Enzo looked better; color had returned to his face, and the pallor of death had receded. The morning light bathed the room in a warm glow, softening the edges of the situation, but Julian knew better. This was no ordinary morning.

He stepped into the living room, his bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. The coffee table was still cluttered with the supplies he’d used to treat Enzo; gauze, antiseptic, a pair of scissors. The faint metallic scent of blood lingered in the air, a stark reminder of the night’s events. Julian’s gaze lingered on Enzo’s face, the sharp angles of his jaw, the faint stubble shadowing his cheeks. Even in sleep, the man exuded an air of danger, a quiet intensity that made Julian’s skin prickle.

But now what? Julian leaned against the doorframe, watching Enzo sleep. He couldn’t just leave him here.

---