The Phoenix Heiress

The smack came fast—no warning, no words. Just Liam’s palm cracking against my cheek, sending my head sideways and the taste of blood rushing in like a tide. “Ungrateful b***h,” he snarled, grabbing the plate from the counter and hurling it at me. It hit the wall just beside my shoulder, splattering hot pasta and ceramic shards across the floor. One piece nicked my arm. I didn’t flinch. That pissed him off more. “You think you’re still the Don’s daughter?” he spat, stepping closer, chest heaving. “You’re nothing now. Just a pretty toy in a town nobody gives a damn about.” I stared at the mess on the floor. Tomato sauce bleeding into the grout like a crime scene. My cheek throbbed. My arm stung. But inside, I was ice. He wanted a reaction. Wanted me to scream, cry, beg. I used to. I don’t anymore. Two years ago, I told my family to go to hell. Told my father his rules were suffocating. Told my brothers they didn’t understand love. I chose Liam. I chose wrong. Now I live in a house that smells like smoke and sweat and secrets. Liam’s uncle runs this town like a kingdom built on fear. The women here disappear. The men look the other way. And me? I’m the broken princess they whisper about. The Ricci girl who fell. But I’m not broken. Not really. I smile when Liam calls me his. I nod when he brags about taming me. I play the part. Because while he’s busy showing off his prize, I’m busy remembering who I am. I’m Katrina Ricci. Daughter of a Don. Sister to wolves. And I’m done being caged. Flashback: The Fight I still hear the echo of that night. The study smelled like cigars and fury. My father stood behind his desk, fists clenched. Matteo paced like a caged animal. Salvatore leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight. And me? I stood in the middle, nineteen and stupidly sure I was right. “He’s not like that,” I said. “You don’t know him.” Matteo snapped first. “We don’t have to know him. We see how he looks at you. Like he owns you.” “He loves me,” I shot back. “He listens. He doesn’t treat me like some fragile little thing.” My father’s voice was low, dangerous. “You think that’s love? You think a man who isolates you, who pulls you away from your family, is love?” “He’s not isolating me. You are. You’re all trying to control me.” Salvatore stepped forward, eyes blazing. “We’re trying to protect you, Kat. You’re our sister. You don’t see what we see.” “I see enough,” I said. “I see a man who treats me like I matter. Not like a pawn in your empire.” Matteo slammed his hand against the bookshelf. “You’re not thinking straight.” “I’m thinking clearer than I ever have,” I lied. My father’s voice cracked. “If you walk out that door, you walk out alone.” I looked at him—the man who taught me how to fight, how to read people, how to survive—and I said the one thing I knew would cut deepest. “Then maybe I was never really part of this family.” The silence that followed was worse than shouting. Worse than slamming doors. It was the sound of something breaking. I left that night with Liam waiting outside, smirking like he’d won. I thought I was choosing love. Freedom. A future. I chose wrong. Present “Kat!” His voice cracked through the silence like a whip. “Get in here and clean this s**t up!” I blinked, the study fading from memory, the scent of cigars replaced by scorched tomato and broken ceramic. My cheek still throbbed from the slap. The pasta was congealing on the tile like blood. Liam’s boots scraped against the floor as he paced, waiting. I moved slowly. Not because I was afraid—though I was—but because I’d learned that moving too fast made him suspicious. He liked control. He liked obedience. I gave him just enough to keep breathing. I knelt beside the mess, fingers brushing shards of plate. One sliced my palm. I didn’t flinch. Behind me, Liam lit a cigarette. “You used to be fire, you know. Now look at you. Tamed.” I didn’t answer. I never did when he was like this. But inside, I was counting. Not bruises. Not insults. Steps. Seconds. Weaknesses. I knew the schedule. I knew when his uncle left for the warehouse. I knew which burner phone Liam kept in the drawer by the liquor cabinet. I knew the name of the girl who disappeared last month—and the one who came back long enough to whisper run before vanishing again. I wasn’t tamed. I was waiting. Because when I leave, I won’t just escape. I’ll burn this place down behind me.