Page 27 of Their Reckless Thief (The Below #1)

I settled against the edge of the fire escape, my wolf stirring with a possessive edge as I watched her.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her brow furrowed as she bent over something on the bed.

A weapon, maybe. Whatever it was, the tension in her posture sent a flicker of anger through me.

She deserved better than this place, better than this city.

But for tonight, at least, she had me. And no one—not the city, not The Below—would touch her while I was here.

I slid the window open, the old frame creaking slightly. Celeste spun around, eyes wide with shock, knife poised to attack.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I slipped inside. “Easy, love. It’s just me.”

She didn’t drop the knife, but her other hand flew to her chest as she shot me a glare that would have knocked a lesser man off his feet. “What the fuck, Dorian? You can’t just break into people’s apartments.”

I shrugged as I leaned against the wall, my grin never fading. “Well, I just did.”

She let out an exasperated sigh as she ran a hand through her hair. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” I pushed off the wall and took a few steps toward her. “But you like it.”

Her lips parted on a breath, and I could see the fire in her eyes—the same fire that had drawn me to her in the first place.

“I brought you something,” I said, holding up the case of pure Phantomine. “This is the good stuff, not the contaminated shit. Do me a favor and stick with what I give you for a while.”

Her gaze flicked from my face to the case. She hesitated for a second before taking it from me. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, watching her carefully. The tension in the room was almost tangible, and I had to fight the urge to close the distance between us. “Are you doing all right?”

She didn’t answer right away as she stared down at the vial she’d pulled from the case. “I don’t know. I thought I’d feel better once I was home, but...”

“You don’t.”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “I just don’t know what to do anymore. Who I am.”

My heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice, and before I could stop myself, I reached out and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re stronger than you think, Celeste.”

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine for something. “Am I?”

I nodded, my thumb grazing her cheek. “Yeah, you are.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. But then she blinked, and the spell broke.

I flopped down onto Celeste’s bed with a dramatic sigh and folded my hands behind my head. “So,” I drawled, glancing over at the shitty old TV perched on a barely stable dresser. “What are we watching?”

Celeste shot me a deadpan look, one eyebrow arched like she wasn’t impressed, though the corner of her mouth twitched. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

“Oh, I have.” I grinned as I took in her room.

It wasn’t much: bare walls, no personal photos or decorations, a few odds and ends on a nightstand, and a lamp.

The TV was old and a little staticky, playing what looked like a true-crime documentary.

Her space was as simple as she was complicated, and that intrigued me even more.

No photos. No clutter. No, this was simply a space where she existed.

Celeste sat on the edge of the bed, twirling the vial of Phantomine between her fingers.

Inhaling deeply, she put it to her lips and drank it down.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Everything this woman did was sexy as fuck—her lips parting around the vial, the slow exhale of her breath, the movement of her throat as she swallowed.

Our eyes locked as she lowered the vial, and a jolt of electricity shot through me.

Fuck.

I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t want her so much.

But I did.

I wanted her in every possible way. I cleared my throat, trying to shake the thought, but before I could say anything, she lay down next to me and pulled a blanket up over herself, a satisfied sigh falling from her lips.

We watched the TV in silence, but all I could focus on was her scent. It was sweet and intoxicating, like the faintest hint of vanilla with something darker underneath, something like desire. Her presence was overwhelming, like the entire world shrank to the space between us.

“So,” I said, trying to act casual, though my heart was pounding harder than it should’ve been. “I missed you.”

She glanced toward me, her expression unreadable. She didn’t say anything, but she snuggled deeper into the blanket. I didn’t push it. Her silence wasn’t a rejection. She was thinking. Processing.

I turned my attention back to the TV, though it was impossible to focus on the murder being dissected on screen. Every time I inhaled, I breathed her in. Every time I shifted, my leg brushed against hers. It was absolute torture, but it was the best kind of torture.

“What are you gonna do now that you’re free?”

Celeste let out a bitter laugh. “I’m never really free. Not as long as Vincenzo is keeping tabs on me, ready to pull me back to The Below whenever he wants to. And not as long as Roberto has a say.”

I bolted upright and turned to face her. “Who the fuck is Roberto?” A pang of jealousy shot through me. Did she have a boyfriend?

Celeste sighed and scooted up, picking at the edge of the blanket. “He’s kind of a father figure, I guess? He took me in off the streets when I was a kid and trained me to be the thief I am today. He practically owns me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Practically?”

“He finds the jobs and assigns them to me or one of his other dolls . We pull off the heists, he gets the money, and we get a cut. I’m indebted to him for all he’s done for me.

He’s the reason I broke into Vincenzo’s mansion.

He didn’t send me, I was there because I thought…

I thought if I could pull off a big job on my own, then I could be free of him.

Viv and Will could be free of him. I’m tired of him controlling our lives. ”

The asshole was using Celeste and making her life hell. My wolf stirred inside me, and a low growl rumbled in the back of my mind. The urge to protect her, to tear the bastard apart, was almost overwhelming.

“He’s sent you out on these heists even after your time in The Below?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. I couldn’t quite hide the edge in my voice. If I ever got my hands on him…

“Yes,” she muttered, tracing idle patterns on the blanket. “Although, he doesn’t know I got caught breaking into Moretti’s mansion. At least, I don’t think he does. I’ll never be fully free of him. Not unless I... I don’t know, disappear.”

Something in my chest twisted. The thought of Celeste trapped, her life being dictated by someone who didn’t give a damn about her, made my blood boil.

I reached out without thinking and gently stroked her arm with the tips of my fingers.

She didn’t pull away, and the warmth of her skin sent a shiver through me.

“Fuck that,” I said, watching her face. “You deserve better.”

She gave a half-smile, but her eyes were locked on the TV. “Better doesn’t exist for people like me.”

I shook my head, drawing small circles on the inside of her wrist with my thumb. I wanted her. Not just her body—though the gods knew that was part of it—but all of her. Her strength, her fire, and her determination. The way she fought like hell even when the odds were stacked against her.

“You deserve the fucking world, Celeste,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Roberto doesn’t get to decide your life.”

Her breath caught, and she turned to look at me, her eyes searching mine.

For what, I didn’t know. Something shifted between us, something deeper than mere attraction.

I trailed my hand up to her shoulder, my fingers brushing along the soft skin of her neck.

Her pulse raced under my touch, and fuck, I was losing it.

She was so damn gorgeous. So godsdamn strong and fierce, but underneath it all, there was a softness she didn’t let anyone see. Except now, she let it through. For me.

She broke the silence first, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “Any leads on the missing women and the drugs?”

I hesitated for a second, then nodded. “We’re getting closer. But it’s a fucking mess, love. Whoever’s behind this, they’re good at covering their tracks. And the drugs... they’re everywhere now.”

She nodded, her eyes darkening. She knew what those drugs could do. She had firsthand experience with addiction. I traced my fingers up her arm again, letting them linger at the curve of her shoulder, and she leaned slightly into the touch.

Gods, I could live forever in this moment, just her and me. No mafia. No missions.

Just us.

“You know,” I said softly, leaning in a little closer, “I could get used to this.”

She arched one perfect eyebrow. “Used to what?”

“Being here with you. Talking. Watching shitty TV. It’s... nice.”

She scoffed, but her expression softened. “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe.” I grinned, leaning in even closer, so my breath ghosted over her skin. “But you love it.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, I thought she’d kiss me. I wanted her to. Fuck, I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone. She didn’t. Celeste pulled away slightly and stared at the TV.

Even that didn’t break the tension between us. It hummed, tangible and electric, like a wire pulled too tight.

Gods, I was falling for her. Fast.

Celeste looked at me—actually looked directly into my eyes. She didn’t say anything, just looked at me with a desperation that made my breath catch in my throat. Without uttering a single word, she told me everything I needed to know. She gave me her permission, and I didn’t hesitate

Slowly , I promised myself as I leaned in to brush my lips against hers.

She turned her head abruptly and put her hand on my chest, holding me back. “No, Dorian. You can’t kiss me. Not on the lips.”

“The fuck I can’t.” I pulled her closer, but she only turned away again.