Chapter 1
Chicago's Most Feared Mafia Boss Broke Every Doctor Who Tried to Touch Him After a Betrayal Left Him Burned Alive. For Eleven Years, No One Had Laid a Bare Hand on His Skin... Until I Pressed My Palm Against His Chest, and the Man Who Ruled the City's Underworld Grabbed My Wrist and Whispered Six Words That Left an Entire Trauma Room Frozen: “Please... Don't Let Me Burn Again.”
By the time they wheeled him into Trauma One, three bullets had already stolen too much blood.
One was buried in his shoulder.
Two more were lodged near his ribs.
Every heartbeat brought him closer to death.
Yet no one dared save him.
Vincent Mercer—the man whispered to be Chicago's most feared mafia boss—lay bleeding across the operating table while an experienced trauma surgeon slowly backed away.
""""I can't touch him,"""" the surgeon whispered.
Vincent opened his eyes.
""""Then leave.""""
Within seconds, every doctor had stepped outside.
Six heavily armed bodyguards surrounded the room, but none of them could help the man they'd sworn to protect.
Everyone knew the story.
Eleven years earlier, the woman Vincent trusted most had drugged him, locked him inside his burning lake house, and left him to die.
He survived.
His mind never truly escaped the fire.
Since that night, even the lightest touch against his bare skin triggered violent panic. Doctors had tried. Specialists had failed. One man left with two broken fingers after placing a hand on Vincent's shoulder without warning.
Now his blood pressure was crashing.
His heartbeat stumbled across the monitor.
Someone had to reach him before death did.
That someone became me.
I wasn't the hospital's most respected trauma nurse.
I was simply the easiest one to sacrifice.
Years of being mocked for my weight had taught people they could overlook me until they needed someone to take the risk nobody else wanted.
My supervisor shoved a trauma kit into my hands.
""""You're going.""""
I looked through the glass.
Vincent had ripped away his oxygen mask.
Blood soaked the sheets beneath him.
One of his men stepped toward me.
""""If he dies—""""
""""If you waste another second threatening me,"""" I said, """"he'll die before I reach him.""""
Silence swallowed the hallway.
The guard stepped aside.
Inside the room, Vincent's gray eyes locked onto mine.
""""Stay away.""""
""""I will,"""" I answered calmly.
I opened sterile gauze without moving closer.
""""My name is Nora. You're still bleeding.""""
""""I said stay back.""""
""""I won't touch you unless you ask me to.""""
His breathing became ragged.
The room fell impossibly quiet.
Slowly, I raised one empty hand where he could see it.
""""No surprises,"""" I whispered.
""""You stay in control.""""
For a long moment, he only stared at me.
Then something inside the most dangerous man in Chicago finally broke.
His voice was barely audible.
""""...Do it.""""
I rested my palm gently against his scarred chest.
His entire body jerked.
His fingers shot around my wrist.
I braced for violence.
Instead...
He held on like a drowning man.
May you like
Tears filled his eyes as he whispered,
""""Please... don't let me burn again.
