Nobody Told the New Nurse Which Patient to Avoid—So She Healed the Mafia Boss First
Chapter 1
On her first night at Saint Mercy Hospital, nobody told Nora Bennett which patient she was supposed to fear.
They only told her one thing.
“Don’t go into Room 417.”
Nora had arrived two hours early for her first shift.
She was twenty-eight, newly licensed, and determined to prove that leaving a wealthy private hospital for Saint Mercy had not been a mistake.
The hospital was old.
The elevators rattled.
The lights flickered.
The night nurses looked exhausted.
But the patients needed people who cared.
That was enough for Nora.
She checked the assignment board.
Room 401.
Room 403.
Room 405.
Then she noticed a blank space.
She looked at the charge nurse.
“Who’s in 417?”
The woman froze.
“Why?”
“It wasn’t assigned.”
The nurse looked toward the hallway.
“Leave it.”
Nora frowned.
“Is the patient stable?”
The nurse lowered her voice.
“Just don’t go in.”
A security guard standing nearby added:
“He’s not a normal patient.”
Nora frowned.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nobody answered.
At midnight, one of Nora’s patients suddenly crashed.
She rushed into Room 412.
The monitor screamed.
His blood pressure dropped.
She called for the doctor.
Ten minutes later, the patient stabilized.
Nora stepped into the hallway.
The charge nurse was waiting.
“Good work.”
“Thanks.”
Then Nora heard a sound.
A man coughing.
Deep.
Weak.
Coming from Room 417.
She looked toward the closed door.
The charge nurse immediately grabbed her arm.
“I told you.”
“He’s sick.”
“He has doctors.”
“So do all of them.”
“Not him.”
Nora pulled her arm free.
“What is wrong with him?”
The nurse looked terrified.
“Everything about him is dangerous.”
That was enough to make Nora curious.
She waited until the charge nurse walked away.
Then she checked the chart.
No name.
Only:
Patient 417. Male. Thirty-six. Gunshot wound. Severe blood loss. Postoperative complications.
No emergency contact.
No medical history.
No insurance information.
Nothing.
Nora stared.
A gunshot patient with no identity?
That didn’t happen.
She opened the door.
The room was dark.
A man lay in the bed.
Large.
Broad shoulders.
Dark hair.
A bruise along his jaw.
An IV ran into his arm.
His breathing was shallow.
Nora stepped closer.
“Mr. 417?”
His eyes opened.
Dark.
Sharp.
Even through the pain, they immediately focused on her.
“Leave.”
Nora blinked.
“I’m Nurse Bennett.”
“I said leave.”
She checked his monitor.
“You’re tachycardic.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
He stared at her.
“You shouldn’t.”
She ignored him.
His wound dressing was soaked through.
She reached for fresh supplies.
He grabbed her wrist.
His grip was surprisingly strong.
“Don’t touch me.”
Nora looked him directly in the eyes.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’ve survived worse.”
“Congratulations.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his grip weakened.
Nora carefully changed the dressing.
The bullet had entered near his ribs.
Someone had operated, but the wound was infected.
She frowned.
“Who did this?”
No answer.
“What’s your name?”
Still nothing.
Nora sighed.
“Fine.”
She finished cleaning the wound.
As she turned away, the man whispered:
“Adrian.”
She looked back.
“What?”
“My name.”
She nodded.
“Adrian what?”
His eyes closed.
“Cole.”
Nora froze.
She knew that name.
Everyone did.
Adrian Cole.
The most feared criminal figure in the city.
A man rumored to control half the underground network.
A mafia boss who had survived three assassination attempts.
Nora stared at the man in the bed.
The patient nobody wanted to touch.
The man everyone had warned her about.
She quietly checked his pulse.
Still weak.
Still alive.
He opened his eyes again.
“You’re not afraid.”
Nora adjusted the blanket.
“I wasn’t told I had to be.”
He stared at her.
Then, for the first time, Adrian Cole looked confused.
Because every doctor who had entered Room 417 had treated him like a dangerous animal.
The new nurse had treated him like a patient.
And neither of them knew that by morning, someone would try to kill him inside the hospital.
