Page 28 of Tormented Hearts

The atmosphere is electric, filled with the rhythmic pulse of music and the low hum of conversation. The lights are low, casting the space in a warm, seductive glow. Luca leads Phoenix through the crowd with ease, his hand resting possessively onthe small of her back, guiding her toward the VIP section where they would be safely secluded from the masses.

Phoenix can’t help but smile as she looks around. For the first time in a long time, she feels something close to normal. She isn’t thinking about the Romero’s, or the bloodshed that had nearly torn them apart. She was just a girl, out at a club with the man she loved.

As they sit down in the plush leather booth, a server brings over a bottle of champagne, and Luca pours them both a glass. He watches her closely, his eyes softening slightly as she takes a sip and smiles.

"Are you having fun?" Luca asks, his voice low, though there is a hint of uncertainty in his tone. He wasn’t used to this—taking time off, being vulnerable enough to ask such simple questions. But with Phoenix, things were different.

Phoenix smiles, leaning back in her seat as she looks at him. "I am," she says, her voice light. "It’s... nice to feel normal for a bit."

Luca’s lips curl into a small smile, though his eyes remain intense, never leaving her. "You deserve more than this. More than just nights out in clubs."

Phoenix’s heart skips a beat at the sincerity in his words. She knows that Luca means it. He wants to give her more, but there are limits to what his world allows. Still, the fact that he is trying means everything to her.

"Right now," Phoenix says, reaching for his hand, "this is enough."

Luca’s eyes darken slightly, the intensity between them simmering beneath the surface, but before he can respond, something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye.

A man—one of the patrons of the club—is watching them from across the room. He is tall, well-dressed, and clearly has enough money and arrogance to think he can get away with anything. Luca’s hand tenses slightly in Phoenix’s grasp as the man approaches their booth, a predatory grin on his face.

Luca’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as the man comes closer. Phoenix notices the shift in Luca’s demeanour immediately—the possessive streak she had come to recognize all too well surfacing beneath the calm exterior.

"Hey," the man says, his voice smooth as he looks at Phoenix, barely acknowledging Luca’s presence. "You want to dance?"

Phoenix blinks caught off guard by the man’s boldness. She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, Luca is already on his feet.

"She’s not dancing with anyone," Luca growls, his voice low and dangerous as he steps in front of the man, his body radiating a barely contained fury.

The man smirks, clearly unaware—or perhaps too arrogant to care—about who he was dealing with. "I wasn’t asking you, pal," he says with an English accent, his eyes flicking dismissively toward Luca before focusing back on Phoenix. "I was asking her."

Luca’s eyes darken, his fists clenching at his sides as he takes a step closer, his body towering over the man in a way that was meant to be both intimidating and final.

"You don’t ask her anything," Luca snarls, his voice laced with menace. "And if you don’t walk away right now, you won’t be walking out of here at all."

Phoenix’s heart races as she watches the interaction unfold, her eyes flicker between Luca and the man. She could feel thetension radiating from Luca, the possessiveness in his stance, the fury in his eyes. It wasn’t just about the man’s arrogance—it was about what he represented. A challenge. A threat to what Luca considered his.

The man, however, seemed either oblivious or too drunk to care. He took a step closer to Luca, his grin widening as if this were some kind of game. "What’s your problem, man? It’s just a dance."

Luca doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to. In an instant, his hand shoots out, grabbing the man by the collar and yanking him forward with a force that knocks the grin right off his face.

"I don’t care if it’s a dance or a fucking handshake," Luca growls, his voice cold and deadly. "You don’t touch what’s mine."

The man’s eyes widen as he realizes just how serious Luca was. "I—I didn’t know," he stammers, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Luca’s fury.

Luca’s grip tightens, his knuckles turning white as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Now you do."

With that, Luca shoves the man backward, sending him stumbling into the crowd. The man doesn’t waste any time scrambling to his feet and disappearing into the sea of people, too terrified to look back.

Phoenix’s heart is pounding as Luca turns back to her, his chest heaving with the effort its taken to rein in his anger. His eyes are still dark, filled with the possessive fire that made her both nervous and, to her surprise, undeniably drawn to him.

"I’m sorry," Luca apologises, his voice rough as he sits back down beside her, his hand reaching for hers. "I didn’t mean to scare you."

Phoenix shakes her head, her breath rapid but her heart steady. "You didn’t," she whispers, her fingers tightening around his. "I’m just... not used to seeing you like that."

Luca’s jaw clenches, his eyes flicking away for a moment before meeting hers again. "I can’t help it," he admits, his voice low. "When it comes to you... I don’t know how to control it."

Phoenix’s heart aches at the vulnerability in his words, at the raw emotion he is struggling to keep in check. She can see the conflict in him—the war between his desire to protect her and the darker, more possessive side of him that he can’t quite contain.

"You don’t have to control everything," Phoenix whispers, her voice soft but steady. "I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere."

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