ISAAC MORANO

**1**

Chapter 1: The Hidden Sanctuary

Wanted by the FBI and the Police Department, Isaac struggled to keep up, his breath ragged and his side throbbing with pain from a fresh wound. The ambush had been brutal, and he had made the decision to split from his men, instructing them to continue without him. He would create a distraction to buy them time to escape. His mind raced as he stumbled through the night, seeking refuge in a place he hoped would offer him safety.

He knocked on the door of an old Victorian house, his knuckles trembling as he braced himself for whatever lay beyond. "Coming," came a soft voice from inside. The door creaked open, revealing a beautiful woman who froze at the sight of him. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in his disheveled appearance and the blood oozing from his side.

"Can you help me, please?" Isaac's voice was a desperate whisper, barely audible over the pounding of his heart and the distant sounds of sirens. Catherine, though clearly alarmed, sensed the urgency and gravity in his tone. She was a doctor, and her instinct to help overpowered her fear.

Without a word, she guided him inside, her hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "I'll take care of this," she murmured, leading him to the couch. Her mind raced as she assessed the severity of his injury, her professional training kicking in despite the danger that seemed to hang in the air.

Catherine took a deep breath as she left the living room, her mind racing through the steps she needed to take to tend to Isaac's injuries. She removed her lab coat and bags, carrying them into her bedroom before returning with a small medical kit. Her movements were steady, but her mind was a storm of concern and determination.

Isaac lay on the couch, his face contorted in pain and exhaustion. Catherine approached him with a calm demeanor, though her heart raced with the urgency of the situation. "I need you to stay calm," she said softly, offering him a pillow. "Squeeze this if it gets too painful."

Isaac took the pillow gratefully, his knuckles white as he gripped it tightly. Catherine set his injured foot gently on the center table, making sure it was positioned comfortably. She opened her medical supplies and put on a pair of sterile gloves, her hands steady despite the gravity of the task ahead.

First, she cleaned the area around the wounds meticulously. She worked with precision, her breath steady and measured as she focused on her task. The sight of the blood and the damage made her heart ache, but she knew she had to remain composed to ensure Isaac's safety.

She located the two bullets embedded in his flesh, her movements practiced and methodical. With a sharp, steady hand, she carefully extracted the first bullet, followed by the second. As she worked, she spoke to Isaac in a soothing tone, trying to offer him reassurance despite the pain he must have been feeling.

"You're lucky," she said as she removed the bullets, her voice tinged with both relief and professionalism. "The bullets didn't hit any vital organs. But we need to get these wounds cleaned and stitched up."

Catherine continued her work with focused attention. She cleaned the wounds thoroughly, making sure no debris remained. The pain must have been intense, but Isaac managed to stay still, his breathing ragged but steady.

She began to stitch up the wounds, her hands moving with practiced skill. Each stitch was a careful act of precision, aimed at closing the wounds and ensuring they would heal properly. The procedure was delicate, and Catherine's concentration never wavered as she worked through the task.

Once the stitching was complete, she wrapped the bandages around Isaac's wounds with care. The bandages were snug but not too tight, designed to support the healing process while minimizing discomfort.