Page 38 of The Price of Mercy

Chapter 25

The Meeting

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken threats as Enzo stepped into the dimly lit dining hall of the De Luca estate. A long, polished mahogany table separated him from the men who had taken Julian. At the head of the table sat Giovanni De Luca, his presence commanding, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as if he had already won.

Luca and Matteo flanked Enzo’s right, silent but watchful. The other Moretti men were stationed behind him, their hands resting just close enough to their weapons to serve as a silent warning.

"Enzo Moretti," Giovanni greeted, swirling a glass of wine lazily between his fingers. "I must say, your arrival is prompt. I expected you to stew in your anger a little longer before coming to negotiate."

Enzo’s jaw clenched; his fury barely contained beneath a calm facade. "Let’s not waste time with pleasantries, Giovanni. Where is he?"

Giovanni leaned back, exhaling a sigh, as if this was all a minor inconvenience to him. "Safe, for now. But safe is a fragile state, one that depends entirely on your willingness to cooperate."

Enzo didn’t flinch. He had expected this. "What do you want?"

Giovanni’s smirk widened. "Your territory; specifically, the south portion of it. A generous slice of the empire you've built on the bones of your father. Give it to me, and the Doc goes free. Refuse, and… well, I’m sure you can imagine what happens next."

Luca and Matteo stiffened beside Enzo, barely suppressing a growl of discontent. The Moretti men exchanged glances; their unease palpable. But Enzo’s gaze remained locked onto Giovanni, studying him, searching for an opening, for a weakness.

And then he saw it; hesitation, not in Giovanni himself, but in the man sitting just to his left. Aldo De Luca, his son and heir, kept his eyes on the table, his fingers drumming against the wood in a restless rhythm. The tension in his shoulders betrayed him. He wasn’t entirely on board with this.

Interesting.

But Enzo had no time to analyze it further. His fury was too consuming, his patience threadbare. "You have two days to decide," Giovanni continued, standing as if the conversation was over. "Either you relinquish your territory, or we send you Julian’s remains piece by piece. Your choice."

Enzo’s entire body tensed, but he forced himself to remain still. Reacting now would be playing into Giovanni’s hands. He needed to be smart. Ruthless. Cold.

"We’ll be in touch," Enzo said, his voice low and lethal.

With that, he turned and walked out, his men following close behind. But as they left, his mind was already racing.

Two days.

Two days to decide between surrendering everything he had built or letting Julian die.

Failure was not an option.

And Giovanni De Luca had just made the worst mistake of his life.

???

A sharp, stinging pain ripped Julian from unconsciousness. His head snapped to the side as the impact of the slap echoed in the cold, damp room. His cheek burned, a fresh wave of agony radiating outward, and a coppery taste filled his mouth where he’d bitten his tongue. For a brief, disoriented moment, he thought he had woken from a nightmare, that his mind had conjured up something horrifying and unreal.

But as his pulse thundered in his ears and the scent of mildew and sweat hung heavy in the air, reality settled in like a crushing weight on his chest.

It wasn’t a nightmare. He was still here. Still trapped in this hell.

A cruel laugh cut through the fog of his pain. "Rise and shine, Doc," one of the men sneered, gripping Julian’s jaw roughly with fingers that smelled of cheap cigarettes and leather. He forced Julian’s head up, making sure he took in the dim, flickering light above him, the crumbling concrete walls, and the unmistakable presence of his captors looming over him like hungry predators.

His muscles screamed from exhaustion; his wrists raw from the tight bindings. His pulse pounded in his ears, but he refused to let the fear take hold. His glare was the only defiance he had left.

Another man, taller and broader, took a step forward and slammed his boot into Julian’s ribs. The sharp burst of pain stole his breath, a choked sound escaping before he could swallow it down. They laughed; amused, entertained. "Still got some fight in you? That’s good," the taller one mocked. "Boss says we gotta make sure Enzo knows we mean business. And you? You’re the message."

Julian clenched his teeth, forcing his breath to steady. He knew they wanted him to break, to beg, to scream, to give them some twisted satisfaction, but he wouldn't give them the pleasure.

A vicious punch landed against his stomach, deep and punishing. Julian gasped, his body folding in on itself, pain blooming through every nerve. The taller man crouched beside him, tilting his head as if studying an animal caught in a trap.

"You think Moretti’s gonna hand over his empire for him?" he sneered, his breath rancid with stale alcohol. "He might fuck him, but that doesn’t mean he’s gonna burn the world down for a piece of ass."

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