Page 36 of Their Reckless Thief (The Below #1)

LUCA

Celeste.

Godsdamn her.

I slammed the door shut behind me, the sound echoing off the walls.

I pressed my back against the solid wood, but no physical barrier could keep out the memories clawing their way to the surface.

I couldn’t do this. Not with her. Not with anyone.

Getting close to me wasn’t just dangerous—it was fatal.

I’d learned that lesson the hard way. Once, someone had gotten too close, someone I should have protected above all else.

It started with something so small, so meaningless—a moment of anger, a spark of frustration.

Before I even understood my powers, before I knew what I was capable of, the shadows came alive.

I lost control. One second, they were there, and the next. .. they were gone.

The memory had etched itself into my soul—the shadows swallowing them whole, the silence that followed, the horrifying realization that no amount of screaming or pleading could undo what I’d done. By the time I’d managed to pull the shadows back, it was already over. It was already too late.

I clenched my fists, my shadows coiling restlessly at my feet as if they, too, remembered the taste of that failure. That moment had defined me, shaped the person I’d become. It was proof of what I’d always known deep down—I was a weapon. Unstable. Destructive. Unworthy of trust or connection.

And now Celeste was dangerously close to stepping into that fire.

She thought she could handle it, but she didn’t understand.

She couldn’t. The more I let her in, the greater the risk that she’d meet the same end.

It was better to keep her at arm’s length, better to push her away.

Losing her laughter, her warmth, her endless stubbornness…

it would destroy me, but not as much as watching the shadows take her like they took?—

I shoved the thought down and straightened, my heart a heavy drumbeat in my chest. Proximity to me didn’t just burn—it consumed. I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. Not again. Not with Celeste.

I paced back and forth in my room, running a hand through my hair, trying to shake the storm of emotions raging inside me.

She was out there, just beyond my bedroom door, and all I could think about was the way her scent clung to the air, how her lips had parted when I got too close.

The tension between us was enough to suffocate me, and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why.

My shadows had searched every inch of her, and I’d memorized each and every damn curve of her perfect body.

I wanted to fuck her. Badly. Maybe if I did, I’d get her out of my system. I should just pin her up against the counter and fuck her until she stops driving me crazy. Until I’d wrung that defiance out of her, and I didn’t want her anymore.

I wasn’t stupid enough to think that would work. No. She would still drive me insane, still crawl under my skin like the maddening woman she was.

She had zero self-preservation. That much was clear. It killed me. I rolled my jaw, forcing my mind away from the memory of her face, flushed with anger and something more when I’d gotten close. The way her eyes had darkened with want, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

Fuck.

The elevator dinged, signaling that she was leaving, and that snapped me out of my haze.

Without a second thought, I headed for the stairs.

I couldn’t let her walk out into The Below’s streets alone.

Not here. Not in The Shadow’s territory.

This place wasn’t like Vincenzo’s. Here, danger lurked around every corner, and she had already proven she wasn’t cautious enough to handle it.

By the time I reached her, she was heading toward her SUV. She snarled when she saw me approaching.

“I don’t need an escort, Luca,” she snapped.

Stubborn. Always so damn stubborn.

I snorted. “Obviously you do, considering you’ve got zero sense of danger and when you shouldn’t be involved in it.”

Her gaze hardened, and for a second, I thought she’d argue. She didn’t. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest, exhaling sharply. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah? You almost got yourself killed today, remember?” I shot back, stepping closer. “You’re reckless, Celeste. You need to stop acting like you’re invincible.”

She glared at me, defiant as ever, but there was something else in her eyes. Vulnerability, maybe. She was trying so hard to act tough, to prove she didn’t need anyone. But I could see right through her.

“Don’t use Phantomine as a coping mechanism anymore,” I said through gritted teeth.

I couldn’t help it. Seeing her about to take that hit earlier had twisted something inside me.

“If you want to use it to get high, to have fun, whatever, then go ahead. But don’t use it to numb yourself. You’re better than that.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my sudden demand. “You sound just like Vivian.”

“Vivian sounds like good people.”

She laughed dryly, but there was no real humor in it. Just exhaustion. I hated that it made me feel protective.

I shouldn’t fucking care.

I stepped ahead of her and opened the car door, waiting for her to get in. She hesitated, glancing at me with a hint of something in her eyes, something I couldn’t quite read, but she said nothing as she slid into the driver’s seat.

She started the engine, but before she could drive off, I leaned down and met her eyes, holding her gaze. “You’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t start looking out for yourself.”

“Why do you care?” she shot back, the sharpness in her voice meant to sting. She was trying to push me away. Always pushing.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have a fucking answer. So, I stepped back, watched her drive away, and felt the gnawing ache in my chest intensify.

What the fuck was I getting myself into? Why did I care if she used Phantomine to cope, or if she walked these dangerous streets alone? Why did it matter if she lived recklessly or got herself killed?

I shouldn’t fucking care. Not about her. Not about anyone.

But I did.

And that was the problem.

I veilstepped into Vincenzo’s mansion, shadows twining around my ankles like restless serpents.

My nerves vibrated with tension, knowing what was coming.

Vincenzo was going to lose it when I told him what happened tonight.

And honestly, I couldn’t blame him. Celeste wouldn’t stop getting herself into trouble .

My shadows coiled tighter as I made my way to his office. I didn’t bother knocking. There was no point. Vincenzo would know I was coming the moment I set foot on the grounds. His senses were that sharp, his awareness that expansive. It was why he could run this place with an iron fist.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. Vincenzo stood next to the massive fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, the flames casting a harsh, golden light over his face. His gaze, dark and dangerous, met mine the second I entered.

I didn’t mince words. “We need to talk. About her .”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. He stared at me, those damn eyes filled with the cold rage he kept tightly leashed—the rage I knew could be unleashed at any second. The problem was, tonight, I would be the one who let it loose.

“Celeste. She was out there again. This time, she was in The Shadow’s territory. Alone. By the time I caught up to her, she had two cars on her tail. If I hadn’t been there?—”

Vincenzo slammed his fist into the side of his desk, sending a crack through the heavy wood. He spun around, eyes blazing. “What the fuck was she doing there ?”

I didn’t flinch, though the force of his anger was almost tangible, the air thickening around us like a storm about to break.

My shadows danced nervously at my feet, feeding off the tension.

“She was on a job. She thought she had it under control.” I met his gaze.

“She was tailed. They would’ve killed her, Vincenzo. ”

He cursed under his breath, his hands curling into fists. “She just doesn’t fucking stop, does she? She doesn’t seem to care that she’s going to get herself killed.”

“I know.” I hated this too—hated how reckless she was. Hated how she kept throwing herself into danger like she had nothing left to lose. “She doesn’t listen to reason. She thinks she can handle everything on her own.”

Vincenzo growled, frustration rolling off him in waves. He turned and swept his arm across the desk, sending papers and glass tumbling to the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room, but it did nothing to calm him. If anything, it only stoked the fire burning in his eyes.

“I fucking told her to stay out of The Below. I told her to stay out of danger,” he snarled, pacing like a caged animal. “Of course, she’s too godsdamn stubborn to listen. I’ve never met anyone more infuriating than that woman.”

I watched him silently, knowing there was nothing I could say to calm him down right now. Hell, I felt the same way. She was driving both of us to the brink, and she didn’t even realize it.

Dorian was fucking pussy-whipped, too. I hadn’t told Vincenzo, but I knew all about Dorian’s visits to Celeste’s apartment.

“Do you know what it’s like to constantly feel like you’re losing control?” Vincenzo asked, every word dripping with fury.

I didn’t answer because, yeah, I fucking knew. I knew it all too well. Celeste had wormed her way into our heads, and no matter how much we wanted to deny it, she was there to stay. The worst part was, I wasn’t even sure she knew the power she had over us.

“She sees it,” I said, surprising myself with how sure I sounded. “She knows she’s being reckless. But she doesn’t think she has a choice. We’ve seen her go in and out of that office building, but I’m not sure who could have that type of control over her.”