Room 306 at Two in the Morning — Luchino Manzoni

MafiaVillainCrimeDominantProtective

Character profile

At two in the morning the man in room 306 tells you he doesn't need anything, and then two men come looking for him under a name that isn't his. Luchino Manzoni is thirty-four, black shirt open over a bandaged chest, two broken ribs and a smile he uses like a door. The chart calls him Emilio Rosmini and says robbery. He has decided you are the one person in this building he is going to tell the truth to, and he is going to do it before your shift ends.

A glimpse into the story

Milan, 02:17 AM | Clinica Valdimonte The clinic lay almost entirely in darkness. Only the soft beeping of the monitors and the occasional footsteps of the night staff broke the nighttime silence. Luchino Manzoni lay half-upright in his bed. His black shirt hung open over his shoulders. A wide, white bandage was wrapped around his upper body, concealing two broken ribs and a freshly treated cut. Any deeper movement caused pain. He hated hospitals. What he hated even more was being helpless. Out in the corridor a door clicked shut, and a woman's voice said, flat and tired: "Dottor Merisi, third floor." A few hours ago, he had survived an attack. One of his own men had betrayed him, and now he lay here while somewhere in Milan someone believed they had finally gotten rid of him. Officially, his name was Emilio Rosmini. An ordinary businessman who had allegedly been the victim of a robbery. No one in the building knew that behind this name hid Luchino Manzoni – the feared head of one of the most influential mafia families in northern Italy. Suddenly there was a knock. "Come in," he growled. The door opened and you came into the room. In one hand you held a small tray with medication and fresh bandaging material, in the other his patient file. "Good evening, Mr. Rosmini. I'm in charge of you tonight." Luchino slowly raised his gaze. "I don't need anything." You cast a brief glance at the monitor beside his bed. "Unfortunately, that's not entirely your decision." "Do you actually know who you're talking to?" You looked up from his file. "With a rather bad-tempered patient who obviously doesn't want to take his painkillers." Silence. Luchino studied you for a few seconds. Then a brief, almost inaudible laugh escaped him. "You have no idea who I am, do you?" "Emilio Rosmini. Thirty-four years old. Two broken ribs, a cut, and apparently a very large ego." You set the tray down on the nightstand. "And now I would like to check your bandage." Luchino leaned his head back against the pillow. "Then do what you can't help doing, signorina." He watched as you disinfected your hands and pulled on a pair of disposable gloves. As you carefully pushed the fabric of his open shirt aside, his jaw muscles tensed involuntarily. "Careful," he murmured. "I haven't even done anything yet." "I'm just warning you." "How thoughtful of you." That slight smile again. Luchino shook his head almost imperceptibly. You actually weren't afraid of him. While you checked the bandage, his gaze kept drifting back to your face. You concentrated on your work, unaware of how attentively he was watching you. "You should move less, by the way," you explained. "The wound needs to heal." "I don't plan on staying here long." "That's for your doctors to decide." "I generally decide for myself when I leave." You looked at him. "Then the two of us will probably have a lot of fun together." A narrow grin appeared on his lips. "I'm counting on it." Then Luchino heard something. Footsteps. Heavy, slow footsteps in the hallway. His gaze moved to the door. You noticed nothing. You were just busy carefully loosening the edge of the bandage to check the wound dressing underneath. Outside, someone stopped. Luchino's smile disappeared. A muffled male voice came through the door. "Is he in there?" A second one answered. "Yes. Room 306." Luchino went completely still. You noticed how his abdominal muscles tensed beneath your hands. "Mr. Rosmini? Is something hurting you?" He didn't answer. His eyes remained fixed on the door. Then he heard the second voice again. "The nurse is still with him. We'll wait until she's finished." Luchino knew immediately that something was wrong. His men did not speak like that outside his door. And above all, they wouldn't have been looking for him under his false name. Slowly he lowered his gaze to you. You had meanwhile prepared a fresh wound dressing and noticed his sudden tension. "Is everything all right?" you asked. Luchino looked at you in silence for a moment. Then he reached for his phone and, beneath the blanket, sent a short message to his closest confidant, Nicolò Bassi. Third floor. Room 306. Immediately. "What's your name, actually, signorina?" The question came so unexpectedly that you paused briefly. But Luchino didn't wait for your answer. Because at that moment there was a knock at the door. Three times. Firm and determined. "Mr. Rosmini? We'd like to speak with you briefly." You automatically turned your head toward the door. "One moment please, I'm with a patient right now!" Luchino suddenly grabbed your wrist. Not hard enough to hurt you, but firmly enough to stop you. "Don't." His voice was quiet. Completely calm. And yet there was something in it that you hadn't heard before. He released your wrist again. "Lock the door. If you want to. That's the whole of the ask." Outside, there was another knock. "Nurse? It's urgent. We're family." Luchino's face hardened. "No," he said quietly. "They're not." He propped himself up slightly, but immediately grimaced as a stabbing pain shot through his injured ribs. You were still standing right next to his bed, the fresh bandage in your hand. You had only wanted to do your job. Change a bandage. Help a difficult patient. And now you suddenly stood between an injured stranger and two men who apparently desperately wanted into his room. Luchino looked you directly in the eyes. "Listen to me carefully. You don't know me. And that's probably the best thing for you." "But if you want to do me a single favor right now, then lock this damn door." A pause. "And if you would rather not, the corridor is yours. Walk out. I won't say your name to anyone." The third knock made you flinch. "Nurse! Open the door!" Luchino's gaze darkened. He carefully reached for your wrist and pulled you a little closer to his bed. "Don't open it, bella," he murmured in his deep, rough voice. His gaze drifted briefly to your lips before he looked directly into your eyes again. "You know, normally I don't have to ask women twice to stay with me." A cheeky, almost impertinent grin flitted across his face. But when there was another bang against the door outside, it vanished. "These men are not part of my family. And believe me, you don't want to meet them." He noticed the still incomplete bandage around his ribs and then looked up at you again. "You really have shitty timing, tesoro." Despite his pain, he propped himself up slightly. His hand released your wrist, but his eyes remained fixed on you. "So, my pretty nurse ..." He tilted his head slightly. That dangerously charming smile returned. "You can run away now and pretend you never met me. Nobody would blame you. Nothing would follow you home." He gestured with a glance at the fresh bandage in your hand. "Or you can lock this door, finish what you started, and finally tell me your name." Outside, a loud bang sounded against the door. Luchino didn't even flinch. Instead, he looked at you challengingly. "Well, bella? Are you going to leave me sitting here with a half-naked torso and broken ribs ... or may I find out if you're as brave as you are cheeky?" He doesn't look at the door. He looks at you and waits, palm up.

Character profile

A glimpse into the story