Page 18 of Tormented Hearts

Phoenix swallows hard, nodding. The knife was still in her hand, the metal cold against her skin, but she wasn’t sure how much use it would be against more armed men. Her mind flashes back to the man she had just fought, the way his eyes had widened in shock when she had attacked him. The memory sent a shiver down her spine.

Just then, the door to the stairwell bursts open, and three more Romero men storm into the hallway. Miguel fires immediately,his aim precise, but there are too many. Phoenix ducks behind the corner, her heart racing as the sound of gunfire fills the air. She can hear the men shouting, the heavy thud of bodies hitting the floor, but it all blurs together in a haze of terror.

Suddenly, strong arms grab her from behind, yanking her backward. Phoenix gasps, struggling as she is pulled away from the hallway and into one of the side rooms. The knife slips from her grip as she fights, her body thrashing against her captor.

"Got you now," a voice snarls in her ear, his grip tightening around her arms.

Panic surges through Phoenix, her body twisting as she tries to break free. But the man’s hold is too strong. He shoves her into the room, slamming the door shut behind them. Phoenix stumbles, her heart pounding in her chest as she turns to face him.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and grinning with a cruel, predatory gleam in his eyes. His gun is trained on her, his expression filled with dark amusement.

"Luca’s little songbird, huh?" he sneers, stepping closer. "He’s going to be real pissed when he finds out we’ve got you."

Phoenix’s blood turns cold, fear clawing at her insides. But she forces herself to stay calm, her mind racing for a way out. The man was blocking the door, his gun pointed directly at her, but there had to be something—anything—she could do to escape.

"I’d stay real still if I were you," he warns, his grin widening as he takes another step toward her. "Don’t want to make this harder than it has to be."

Phoenix’s eyes dart around the room, searching for something—anything she could use to defend herself. But there was nothing. She was trapped.

Her pulse races as the man closes the distance between them, his gun still aimed at her chest. Phoenix swallows hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

But before he could make his move, the door burst open, and Miguel storms in, his gun raised. He doesn’t hesitate. A single shot, and the Romero man collapses, his body hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

Phoenix gasps, her body trembling with relief as she stumbles back against the wall. Her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling from the shock of what had just happened.

Miguel rushes to her side, his face filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

Phoenix nods, though her body is still shaking. "I... I think so."

"We need to get out of here," Miguel said, his voice urgent. "More of them are coming."

LUCA 10

Luca’s car tore through the streets of Palermo, the tires screeching as they skidded around corners, the powerful engine roaring like a beast unleashed. His hands gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, his eyes burning with a cold, deadly focus. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, every breath was laced with fury.

He had been in the middle of a tense negotiation with one of his gun suppliers when the call came in. Miguel had told him only the barest of details—the Romero’s had attacked; Phoenix was in danger. That was all Luca needed to hear.

The Romero’s had crossed a line. A line they would never return from.

As the penthouse loomed in the distance, Luca’s jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. The thought of Phoenix in danger, of her being taken from him, ignited something primal inside him. She was his. His to protect. His to claim. And if anyone dared lay a hand on her, they would pay with their lives.

The car screeched to a halt outside the penthouse, the engine still rumbling as Luca leaped out. His men were already waiting, the surviving Romero attackers either captured or lying dead in the street. But none of it mattered to Luca. All that mattered was getting to Phoenix.

He stormed into the building, the weight of his fury like a physical force as his men scrambled to get out of his way. The hallway leading to the penthouse was littered with the aftermath of the fight—shattered glass, bullet holes, and the bodies of the men who had dared to challenge him. Luca barely registered any of it. His mind was fixed on one thing: Phoenix.

When he reached the door of the penthouse, it was already open, hanging off its hinges. Luca’s heart raced, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he stepped inside. The place was a war zone, furniture overturned, bloodstains marking the floor and walls. But it wasn’t the destruction that chilled him—it was the silence.

"Miguel!" Luca bellowed, his voice thundering through the apartment.

A moment later, Miguel appeared, his gun still in hand, his face grim. "Boss."

Luca’s eyes were wild as he stepped toward him. "Where is she?" he demanded, his voice filled with barely contained rage.

Miguel didn’t flinch, but the weight of the situation was clear in his eyes. "She’s safe, Luca. She fought, held her ground. But it was close—too close."

Luca’s heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the room, searching for Phoenix. His pulse slowed, just a fraction, when he spotted her in the far corner of the room, huddled on the couch, her body trembling but intact. Relief flooded through him, but it was fleeting—quickly replaced by the blinding fury that threatened to consume him.

Miguel approached him, his voice low. "There were more of them than we expected. They came for her, Luca."

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