Deck the Halls and Hide the Bodies
TW: Kidnapping, forced marriage, violence.
LUCIAN
This is not how I imagined the Christmas month would start for me.
Eva’s lying on the operating table, half-conscious, blinking up at me like I’m the one to blame for her state. Even badly hurt, she’s still trying to sit up. I swear, that woman has no idea how to let others take care of her, especially when she’s injured.
“Stay down,” I order, but keep my voice gentle simply because I know my place.
In medical school, we were told to take control of the situation and own it since one wrong decision could cost someone’s life. But standing in the shoes I’m forced to wear today, I’m also fully aware that control is something I can only dream about. After all, I’m just a tool for them.
“Had no idea you knew how to give orders, Doc,” Eva mutters and grins at me.
I press the gauze harder against the wound and she flinches. The bullet is lodged pretty deep, near her ribs. It’s a clean entry wound, but the bleeding won’t stop, so I need to get it out before she bleeds out on the table.
Usually, I wouldn’t bother to focus on the bullet—it’s the bleeding and the hole the bullet left I worry about, but Eva was so adamant that she doesn’t want “the filthy thing” inside her, I have no other choice but to remove it.
And yes, she’s my patient, my main priority is her survival. However, if this woman pulls through and bullet’s still inside her, I’m sure she’d rip off my balls and feed them to me, just to reach her hand down my throat, pull them out, and feed them to me again.
My hands shake as I remind myself that I can’t call anyone, can’t move her and if she dies here, I die next—that’s the rule of the organisation both of us are controlled by.
“Smile for me, Doc, I like to see pretty faces before I break them.” Eva chuckles, then grits her teeth as I carefully guide the forceps into the open wound and try to get the bullet.
“Try not to talk,” I grumble as my whole body tenses and I guide the forceps closer to the bullet.
“Why?” Eva muses and it’s truly beyond me how she can find this situation amusing at all. “Are you nervous, Doc?”
Not that she’s looking at me, but damn it, the sweat that’s breaking out on my forehead and the slight tremble of my hand could be a pretty dead fucking giveway that yes, I’m nervous as hell.
“Stay quiet,” I hiss just as I feel the tip of the forceps reach the bullet.
“Why, Doc? Are you scared I’ll distract you?” Eva asks.
Now, it makes sense how she got shot again. This woman has no filter, she’s in an awful situation and she’s making it worse with her delirious rambling.
“You scared, Doc?” She repeats and chuckles, making me curse under my breath as the forceps miss the bullet just a second before I could clamp them around the metal.
Scared I’ll lose you, is what I want to say, but the words don’t leave me because this isn’t the right time to explain that my life depends on my ability to save hers.
Eva has ended many lives, ruthlessly so, I’ve even seen her do it more than a few times, so I’m sure that the life of a mere doctor wouldn’t be considered a great loss in her books.
Finally, I manage to clamp the forceps around the bullet—Eva jerks and gasps, then her hands grip the operating table as I start slowly pulling it out, careful not to tear more tissue around it. “Almost there,” I whisper.
“Liar,” Eva forces the word through gritted teeth and her grip on the table tightens so much, her knuckles turn unnaturally white.
“Always,” I admit and focus on the bullet, instead of soothing her. I hold my breath as I work and dare to release it only when the bullet finally hits the tray with a soft clink.
My gloves are covered in her blood and my hands seem to shake even more as I take care of her wound, then as quickly as I can, I stitch her up. Once I’m done and she’s still breathing, I feel like the weight of the world just rolled off my shoulders.
Suddenly, her hand releases the hold on the table and grabs my wrist. “You save everyone like this, Doc?” Eva asks and turns her head to look at me.
“Only the ones who come at the cost of my own life,” I grumble and pull away, not really feeling like the biggest fan of the one woman who could snap me like a twig if she wanted to.
Eva’s lips curve up in a lazy smirk as she mutters, “good boy.”
Those words, the way she says them, fuck, I hate to admit it, but they stir something inside me. Maybe it’s more about the moment and the adrenaline that is fading, but hell, I wouldn’t be too opposed to hearing her say those words again.
Instead of dwelling on that, I focus on cleaning up the blood and the medical equipment. Once I’m done and the room looks way more sterile than it did earlier, Eva’s already half-asleep.
I drag a chair next to the operating table and sit down to clean the blood off her skin. Every stroke of my hand is gentler than usual and my mind is screaming at me to move away, check her vitals, anything but this.
But of course, I don’t listen and instead, sit beside her and cast glances at the monster I just kept alive.
Hours tick by like that, Eva’s sleeping and I can’t force myself to move from her side. Ever so often, I check on her to ensure she’s not dying on me.
I stand from the chair only when the door creaks open and Don Matteo steps inside the room. He gives me a curt nod before his eyes focus on Eva. “An update on my enforcer, Dr. Vale?” He asks and glances at the watch around his wrist that probably cost more than my house.
Clearing my throat, I look at Eva, then back at Matteo. “Stable. I managed to remove the bullet and stop the bleeding. She’ll need to rest more to heal faster.”
Don Matteo doesn’t look pleased with my words. The man scowls and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “How long are we talking? A day, two? I need her back now, but I suppose I can give her some grace if it ensures she’s back to her duties in no time.”
My jaw drops. Everyone knows that Matteo isn’t the most understanding man on this planet, but to be that deluded and believe that a day or two will be enough to heal from a gun wound? Yeah, he’s out of his goddamn mind, that’s for sure.
But again, since I know my place and still value my life, I don’t speak my mind and instead, stick to the facts. “With all due respect, Don, that won’t be possible. I’d like to keep Eva under observation for at least the next three days and if she’s stable enough, she’ll be allowed to return home.”
Before I can finish explaining, Matteo glares at me like I just demanded his firstborn for a useless forest ritual. “Fine,” he snarls, jaw tense, teeth gritted, looking every bit of the dangerous man he is. “Three days and she’s returning then.”
A part of me is screaming I should shut my mouth and be done with it, but the other part—the actual doctor that cares about his patients, refuses to back down.
“No. Three days under observation, then at least two weeks of bed rest and starting with week three, if she’s healing properly, she can ease into physical activities again.
Nothing too straining on her body until she’s healed. ”
By the look on his face, I’m not demanding only the firstborn anymore—in his mind, I’m demanding his entire bloodline to be handed over to me for playtime in the cursed forest.
“You have to be fucking shitting me, Lucian,” Matteo growls and takes a menacing step closer to me.
“Do you have any idea what Eva does for me? Any idea at all? To the world, she’s an enforcer, but to me, she’s the most effective pest control I’ve ever employed.
That woman has gotten rid of more issues for me than any man that came before her.
She’s irreplaceable and I can’t have her take a fucking vacation, especially now. ”
“It’s not a vacation!” I raise my voice and pull my hands into tight firsts at my sides. “Vacation is a Hawaii getaway. This is a medical necessity. She’s been shot, she needs to heal after trauma like that.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and counts down some breaths, then drops his hand to his side and groans, “so, you’re telling me that I have no other choice but to replace her with incompetent fools and wait until she heals? Is that what you’re saying? Choose your next words very carefully, Doc.”
Do I hear the threat lacing his words? Hell yes, I do. Am I scared for my life and secretly willing my body not to betray me with something like shitting myself from fear? Sure thing. But am I going to back down? Nope, no I won’t.
“Yes,” I state simply and hold my breath, expecting the next blow to come.
However, as the silence between us drags out, nothing happens. Matteo doesn’t attack me and doesn’t make a move to call his little helpers to beat the shit out of me. That’s great, I think.
“Fine,” he snarls. “I’ll have someone pick her up from here in three days and take her home. But, rest assured, Doctor, this isn’t the last time...” He doesn’t finish the thought, smirks at me and storms out of the operating room.
“Fuck my life,” I whisper, lean against the wall and release a shuddering breath. Matteo is planning something and I really don’t want to find out what it is.
25.12.2025
So far, so good. Rest assured, I’ve spent all this time biting my nails and looking over my shoulder more than I have in my entire life. The stress levels I’ve been experiencing are maddening, but somehow, I’ve gotten through so far and I’ll just keep pushing forward no matter what.
Today, I’m a little more at ease. Yes, I’ve double checked if I locked all the doors in my house and bolted the windows a couple of times, more like 98, not that I’m counting, but still, more at ease.
In fact, now I’m stupidly looking at myself in the mirror and trying to decide if the bowtie is too much for Christmas dinner at my parent’s house. The tux is a must, according to my mother, but the bow tie? I don’t know...