Page 46 of Their Reckless Thief (The Below #1)

VINCENZO

The night air was cool against my skin as I made my way toward one of my clubs, the adrenaline from earlier still coursing through my veins.

Torturing Roberto had been satisfying and had sharpened my focus.

The tension in me hadn’t dissipated. It lingered, simmering just beneath the surface, and I needed to do something about the problem that kept gnawing at the back of my mind.

Earlier today, one of my men had informed me that another woman had gone missing. Another one of my women. It was unacceptable.

I opened the heavy door of the club, and the muffled thrum of music hit me like a physical force.

Purple and red neon lights flashed in time with the pulsing beat, bodies moving together on the dance floor, the air thick with sweat, perfume, and the faint underlying scent of lust. The crowd, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked outside, danced and drank without a care.

I, however, did care.

My men were scattered throughout the room, blending in with the patrons to keep a close eye on things.

I’d had them watching this place for weeks, and despite every safeguard I’d put in place, despite every warning I’d issued to the management, women were still vanishing without a trace. No one had seen a damn thing.

How the hell was that possible?

As I moved through the club, recognition rippled through the crowd. Eyes followed me as I walked, whispers passed between groups of people, but I ignored them. I was here for answers, and I was done waiting for them.

I strode to a corner booth at the back. From there, I’d have a perfect view of the entire club. I slid into the booth, leaning back into the plush leather seat as I surveyed the room.

The women here were beautiful and moved with a practiced grace, their bodies an effortless blend of allure and temptation. They chose their clients with care and were always in control of the exchange. That was the deal in my clubs. Women had the power, the choice. I protected that.

So, how and why were they disappearing?

The bartenders moved behind the long, sleek bar, mixing drinks with quick, efficient hands. The bouncers stood at their posts, scanning the crowd, their sharp eyes missing nothing.

I tapped my fingers against the table, frustration growing.

There was no sign of struggle, no trace left behind.

The women were just gone. I knew, deep down, that this was The Shadow’s doing.

It had his stench all over it. What did he want with them?

Was he killing them? Or was it something else, something darker?

What if I was wrong? What if it wasn’t The Shadow?

I had suspicions, theories I didn’t want to entertain. The contaminated Phantomine and the abductions were connected. Why? Was it a power play? Did The Shadow want to make me look weak, so he could steal my territory out from under me? Or was it something more sinister?

A woman approached my table, hips swaying, a flirtatious glint in her eye. She was tall, with dark hair and a body that would’ve turned heads in any room. She smiled as she leaned against the edge of the booth.

“Vincenzo,” she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

I glanced up at her, but I couldn’t muster a hint of interest. She was beautiful, but my obsession with Celeste had not waned after I’d had my mouth on her—as much as I might have wished it so. My life would have been simpler if it had.

“Not tonight.”

She blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly, giving me a knowing smile. “Another time then.”

I rolled my jaw to keep my anger at bay. There were too many unanswered questions, too many variables. The Shadow was playing a dangerous game, one I was determined to win. He could try to make me look weak, try to take what was mine, but I refused to let that happen. I had to find the upper hand.

The Shadow would slip up, and when he did, I’d be ready to strike, ready to make him pay.

I let the noise fade into the background as I pulled an envelope from my pocket and started reading the autopsy report on the woman that had been dropped at my front door.

I’d had it expedited because every second could make a difference between getting ahead of this problem or letting it spiral out of control even more.

The results were inconclusive, which did nothing but fuel my frustration.

The woman, a fae sex worker, had died under circumstances that couldn’t be determined.

No magic involved, no clear signs of a struggle, no internal bleeding.

And yet her blood supply had been dangerously low, almost depleted.

A single puncture wound on her arm was the only physical clue, but that led nowhere.

Vampires? Not with only one puncture wound.

Illegal blood trade? Possibly, but it didn’t feel right.

I closed the report and placed it on the table, tapping my fingers against the surface as I tried to piece it together. I swirled the blood in my goblet, watching the liquid coat the glass.

The woman had been employed here. She was a singleton, with little family, no ties that would raise any flags if she disappeared. It fit the profile of the other missing women. Unless The Shadow was fucking with me by replicating the previous crimes, this was him admitting he was the culprit.

Wasn’t it?

I glanced around the club again. The neon lights strobed over the crowd.

The dancers were still working the poles as the men in the audience leered over them.

Beneath it, I could feel an undercurrent of tension.

The women who worked here knew something was wrong.

They weren’t oblivious to the shadow of danger hanging over them, threatening to strike at any moment.

I needed to talk to them and let them know I was looking out for them.

I rose from the booth, adjusting my jacket.

As I strode toward the dancers, I scanned the room for any familiar faces.

The women respected me, or at least respected what I represented.

I made sure they were protected and could work safely without worrying about the dangers that lurked in the shadows of The Below, but now that security had been compromised, I needed to fix it. Fast.

Jasmine caught my eye among a group of women at the bar.

She was one of the fae women who knew how to work the room.

Her long, dark hair flowed over her shoulders, and she carried herself with the kind of confidence that came from knowing exactly how much power she held.

Tonight, though, there was a hint of unease in her posture. She knew why I was here.

“Jasmine.” I nodded at her. “I need a word.”

She set down her drink, her eyes glimmering with curiosity as she stepped away from the group. “What’s this about, Vincenzo?” she asked in a low voice. She wasn’t afraid, but she wasn’t at ease, either.

I led her to my corner booth. I leaned in slightly, keeping my voice low enough so only she could hear. “A woman turned up dead in my territory. Blonde, fae. She worked here, didn’t she?”

Jasmine’s expression tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might brush me off. Then she sighed, her shoulders sagging a little. “Yeah. She was one of us.”

“She was a friend of yours?”

Jasmine nodded, her gaze drifting to the floor as she spoke. “We weren’t close, but we looked out for each other, you know? She didn’t have much, no family to speak of. But she was good at her job, kept her head down.”

“Did you notice anything unusual about her? Anything that might have made her a target?”

Jasmine bit her lip as if debating whether or not to say something. Finally, she spoke. “She was highly addicted to Phantomine, but that’s not out of the norm. I mean, we all dabble, but she was deep in it. She started using it a lot more in the last few months. Said it helped her forget.”

“Forget what?”

“She wouldn’t say. I think… I think she was scared of something. She never talked about it, but I could see it in her eyes, you know? Like she was running from something, but she didn’t know how to stop.”

That caught my attention. “What else? Did she mention anyone? Meet with anyone out of the ordinary?”

Jasmine shook her head. “No one that stands out. She did disappear a few times, just for a night or two. Said she was working . When she came back, she was different. Distant. I got the feeling she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to.”

I clenched my jaw, willing the puzzle pieces to fall into place. Phantomine. The women who were going missing all had some connection to the drug. This woman had been addicted for years. Could that be part of it? Was someone targeting these women because of their Phantomine habit?

Jasmine looked up at me, her eyes filled with concern. “You think someone’s taking us, don’t you?”

“I think something is going on, and I intend to put a stop to it. Your safety is my top priority. If any of you feel uncomfortable working until this is solved, you’ll still be paid in full. No questions asked. Spread the word.”

She nodded, gratitude flashing across her face. “Thanks, Vincenzo. We appreciate that. Be careful. Whatever this is, it feels big.”

I gave her a reassuring nod, though inside, my anger was a living thing.

The Veil Guard was turning up the heat on the fake Phantomine circulating in my territory, pressuring me to clean up my mess, or I would lose their cooperation.

I couldn’t have that. I needed to appease the magistrates to keep things running smoothly and keep the fucking Veil Guard out of my hair.

I watched the crowd as I sipped the blood in my goblet. The low throb of music pounded through the walls, but I barely heard anything. My focus was on the people, on the deals happening in the dark corners of the room.