Page 26 of Ruthless Passion

Once Sonny gets the guy on the ground, it gets worse. He lands one blow after another until the dude's face is a puffing, bloody mess. I get up to grab Sonny, holding him back from killing the guy.

"You lay a hand on one of my people ever again, and I'll catch you when my brother's not here to fucking save your useless fucking life." Sonny snarls before storming out. The other guy is a puddle of limbs under a stool by the bar.

A curtain hiding the loud moans shifts to the side when a large guy walks out wearing an obnoxiously opulent black silk shirt with gold fleur-de-lis symbols decorating the garment. The gold slacks don't help the guy's appearance as he zips them up with a sickening grin. It's only when he gets closer, I recognize Vito Dacosta's signature expression of arrogance.

"What the hell is going on out here? I can't even make a decent movie back there without all this noise." He looks around at the mess. "Albie? Junior? Matteo? What the fuck is going on?"

Three of my soldiers hang back while the other four walk outside with Sonny. I turn to Vito. "You sent these goons to attack one of my actresses? She's in the hospital, face fucked up and a broken leg."

"What?" He looks genuinely surprised.

"That asshole under the bar stomped on Faith's leg and snapped it in half. I don't know what the other two did, but they deserve this." I motion to the destruction. "Stay away from my people, Vito."

"Whoa, Luca, wait a minute. An actress with a fucked-up face and a broken leg is no good to me. I threaten, sure, but I wouldn't have her hurt?—"

The first guy who got hit with the ashtray stirs, interjecting into our conversation. "Wait a minute. You said the bitch needed to come work with us."

Anger fills Vito's eyes as he grinds his teeth and yells. "How the fuck is the bitch supposed to fuck with a fucked-up face and broken leg? Here, let me see how well that works for you."

Vito pulls out his gun and shoots the guy in the kneecap. As he howls in pain, Vito turns to me. "No hard feelings, Luca?"

"Fuck you, Vito. If you hadn't tried to force my girl to work for you, none of this would be happening. Stay away from my people. This is your last warning." I tell the opposing mob boss.

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, Devlin? I'll skin you and wear you like a mink. You think because you're fucking the girl means she can't be poached by another production studio?"

"Poached and put in the hospital are two different things. Next time, none of you survive." I warn him and turn to leave with my soldiers covering me to make sure I don't get shot in the back.

Outside, my adrenaline fades as I walk over to Sonny. He's smoking a vape pen outside one of the SUVs we came in.

"Was that a gunshot I heard?" he asks once I'm next to him.

I nod. "Yeah. Vito got mad because, according to him, the assholes weren't supposed to hurt Faith, so he shot the guy you clocked with the ashtray."

"Dead?" Sonny has a worried gaze because we don't want or need to be here if there's a body inside.

"No, in the leg. I mean, he could die, but not while we're here. Let's get out of here, fellas," I tell everyone who nod and get into their cars.

In the back seat of one SUVs with windows tinted black so no one can see the passengers inside, both Sonny and I hold our hands up to see the damage. It's not bad, but it doesn't look good either. The hand I used to punch that guy above the eye is split down the knuckle. The stinging sensation of the open wound hits me more when I flex my fingers in and out.

"When did you get hit in the face?" Sonny asks, as he sits on my left.

Heat rises to my cheeks as I think of how I started my day. A smile spreads across my face. "That would have been this morning."

"How many people have you been fighting?" he asks with a laugh.

"It wasn't a fight. It was a therapeutic release with Josephine."

"Ah, the mysterious lead actress of Starlight. Do you think we're going to have a problem with Vito for this film?"

I shrug. "I'm not sure. All I know is he'd better leave Jo alone."

My phone buzzes with the flash of an unfamiliar number, heightening my anxiety that something's wrong.

"Devlin," I answer.

"Hey, it's Jo." The soft familiarity of her tone warms me as memories of our time together dance in my head. I hum the tune, Something in the Way, and she laughs, saying, "I'm happy you remember. I wanted to know if you're still at the hospital. I had to come in?—"

"What's wrong?" I ask, my heart racing as a different kind of panic finds me. But I don't hear anything from Jo. I pull the phone away from my face to look at a blacked-out screen. Pushing the power button doesn't do anything except flash an angry lightning bolt at me. "Take me back to the hospital right now."

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