Page 7 of Tormented Hearts

And that terrified her most of all.

Pressing her forehead against the cool glass, her breath fogging the window slightly. She felt like she was losing herself—who she had been before, and the person she was becoming now. It wasn’t just the fact that Luca had taken her against her will. It was the way he made her feel.

Part of her hated him for it—hated the way her body responded to his, how her pulse quickened when he entered the room. It wasn’t just fear. It was something much darker, more confusing. Desire.

She closed her eyes, the memory of Luca’s hands on her waist flooding her senses. He was rough, almost punishing in his touch, but there was moments—brief, fleeting moments—when he had softened. When his hands had moved gently over her skin, as though afraid of breaking something fragile. Phoenix hated the way it made her feel weak, but there was no denying that a part of her wanted more.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this situation made sense. She was a prisoner, wasn’t she? But Luca had never treated her like a prisoner. He had given her space, freedom within his world. And even though he claimed her as his, he had yet to truly force her to do anything she wasn’t willing to do.

At least, not physically.

But emotionally? He had already taken too much from her—her sense of control, her independence, her will to fight back. And now, she was beginning to wonder if she wanted to fight him at all. Looking up she realizes that Luca has slipped out while she has been sitting by the window.

Standing she wanders through the penthouse, her feet moving without direction. Every corner of the place was a reminder of Luca—his presence seemed to fill every room, every inch of the space. She wasn’t sure if that made her feel safer or more trapped.

Luca usually goes out all day, attending to his business—business she was too afraid to ask about. She didn’t want to know the details of his world. She had seen enough in the short time she had been here to understand that Luca wasn’t just a man—he was a force of nature. And yet, it was that very power that had drawn her in.

She wandered into the library, a room she hadn’t explored much yet. The walls were lined with books, dark wood shelves stretching up toward the ceiling. It was a place of quiet contemplation, a stark contrast to the chaos that seemed to live within Luca’s world.

Phoenix’s fingers traced the spines of the books as she walked along the shelves, her mind drifting. She didn’t know how long she had been standing there when she felt him enter the room. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. His presence was like a shadow that wrapped around her, heavy and inescapable.

“I was looking for you,” Luca’s voice was low, almost gentle.

Phoenix didn’t turn to face him. “Why?” she asked softly, her eyes still fixed on the books in front of her.

Luca didn’t respond right away, but she could feel him moving closer, the heat of his body now just inches from hers. She could almost feel the weight of his gaze on the back of her neck, burning through her defences.

“Do you hate me?” he asks, his voice so quiet it almost didn’t reach her ears.

Phoenix’s heart skips a beat at the question. She should have answered without hesitation. Yes, she should hate him. He had taken her from her life, locked her away in this penthouse, and claimed her as his possession. But as the silence stretches between them, Phoenix finds that she couldn’t say the words. The hate she had once felt for him had dulled, changed into something else. Something much more dangerous.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, her voice betraying her confusion.

Luca moves closer, his hand brushing lightly against her arm. It wasn’t possessive this time. It was almost... tentative. “You should,” he says, his breath warm against her skin. “You should hate me for everything I’ve done. Everything I’m going to do.”

Phoenix finally turns to face him, her green eyes locking with his dark blue ones. There was something raw in his expression, something vulnerable that she hadn’t seen before. It took her breath away.

“Then why don’t I?” she asks, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Luca doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches up, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was soft, careful, as though he were afraid she might break under his hands.

“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice rough with emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. “I’ve tried to stay away. Tried to keep my distance, but...”

Phoenix’s heart pounds in her chest as his hand lingers on the side of her face. His eyes were searching hers, as though looking for something—permission, perhaps. Or maybe salvation.

“Don’t,” she whispers, though she wasn’t sure if she was telling him to stop or pleading with him to continue.

But Luca didn’t move. He stayed there, close enough to touch, close enough for her to feel the heat of his body. And in that moment, something shifted between them. The tension that had always simmered beneath the surface now boiled over, but it wasn’t just lust. It was something deeper, more complicated. A connection that neither of them understood, but neither could deny. It frightened Phoenix, as this world of Luca’s was dangerous, rough, there was no place for softness, for love. Even though she felt that there was a pull between them, she knew that she had to get away from him or she feared that he would be her destruction.

She had been planning her escape for days, though "planning" was a generous term. It was more of a wild hope than a strategy—an instinct to run, to break free before she lost herself completely to Luca. She couldn’t stay here, trapped under his control, sinking deeper into the strange mix of desire and fear that consumed her whenever he was near.

“You need to accept this, need to come to terms that this is your life, me…here, the only way this will end is if I let you go,” and with those words he turns and leaves, leaving her with no other option but to speed up her plan to try and run because if she didn’t, she would be lost.

PHOENIX 5

Phoenix’s heart pounded in her chest as she crept down the long, dimly lit hallway of the penthouse. Every shadow seemed to shift, every small noise echoed louder than it should, and her pulse thrummed in her ears like a relentless drumbeat. She knew this was her only chance, but fear gripped her like a vice, squeezing tighter with every step she took toward the door.

For weeks, she had been planning this escape, watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity. The penthouse was like a gilded cage—beautiful on the outside but locked tight with Luca’s control. He had guards posted at every exit, his men patrolling the halls day and night, their eyes always watching, always vigilant. There was no freedom here, no escape from the life Luca had forced her into.