Page 48 of Their Reckless Thief (The Below #1)

CELESTE

I woke up in a daze, my mind hazy and disoriented, like I’d been floating in some kind of limbo. For a terrifying second, I didn’t know where I was, then the memories from the night before crashed over me like a warm wave. Vincenzo.

My head swam as the room wavered, and I was suddenly watching a single red rose fall to the ground, its petals scattering. It felt insignificant, but the weight in my chest said otherwise. I rubbed my temples, forcing the image away.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes, trying to get my bearings. Everything felt out of place. My body was sore, my limbs heavy, like I’d been put through a wringer. In a way, I had.

The sheets clung to my naked skin, and as I stretched, my body immediately protested.

I winced, the ache in my muscles reminding me of Roberto and my fall down the steps.

Then my mind flashed to what had come after, and a smug, satisfied smile curled on my lips.

I stretched again, groaning as I felt every kiss, every touch, still lingering on my skin.

I was soaked in him, the musky scent of Vincenzo still clinging to the sheets, to me.

Gods, last night…

What did it all mean? And how would Dorian react when he learned about this?

If I was honest with myself, he would probably have feelings about it, just like I would care if he was sleeping with someone else.

Our connection was electric and wild, but Dorian knew I wasn’t interested in anything more than casual—even though my interactions with these men were beginning to feel anything but casual…

As I moved, the ache deepened. The dull, throbbing pain felt like it had been there forever.

I tugged the sheet down and glanced at my bruised body.

They were darker now, purpling into grotesque patches that marred my skin, each one a reminder of everything Roberto had done to me.

And yet, even as I stared at them, I couldn’t help but compare them to the ache Vincenzo had ignited in me.

He’d touched me like I was something precious and breakable, and yet with such hunger, such need, that I had lost myself in it.

I winced as I sat up, the pain flaring through my ribs, but I pushed past it, letting my feet dangle over the edge of the bed.

That’s when I noticed the robe draped over the foot of the bed.

Pink, silky, and soft. I reached out for it, running my fingers over the material.

It felt like luxury, like something I didn’t deserve but wanted desperately to wrap myself in.

Slipping it on, I closed my eyes, sighing at the feel of it against my skin.

It was as though Vincenzo knew exactly what I needed before I even realized it myself.

I tied the sash loosely around my waist and was about to stand when my eyes caught on a small box sitting at the edge of the dresser with a neatly folded note beside it.

Curiosity piqued, I stood on shaky legs and made my way over to the dresser. I reached for the note first, smiling at the sight of his neat handwriting.

Dolcezza .

I smiled wider, remembering the way he’d whispered that into my ear last night, his breath hot against my skin. As I read on, the smile faded, the warmth evaporating as each word sunk in.

I took care of your problem. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.

I stared at the note, my pulse quickening. I read it again. Then again. My fingers trembled slightly as I dropped the letter, my mind trying to piece together what it meant. Your problem. Did he mean...? No. No, it couldn’t be.

My eyes darted to the small, unassuming box.

It suddenly seemed like it held all the danger in the world.

I hesitated before I slowly reached for it.

I didn’t want to open it. Deep down, something screamed at me not to.

Yet I had to know. My hand hovered over the lid for a heartbeat, then I flipped it open.

My breath hitched, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle the scream that wanted to tear out of me. Nestled on a soft velvet cushion sat Roberto’s severed finger. His ring, the one I’d seen a hundred times, was still on it, gleaming like some macabre trophy.

I dropped the box and staggered back, my legs giving out beneath me as I collapsed onto the floor. My heart hammered against my ribs, my mind a jumbled mess of shock and revulsion. I’d known Vincenzo was dangerous. Hell, everyone knew that. But this?

He’d killed Roberto.

He’d murdered him. For me .

The realization hit like a punch to the gut, winding me. I pressed my hand harder against my mouth, my breathing shallow, as if I could somehow contain the horror rising inside me. Roberto was an asshole, sure, a manipulative piece of shit, but did he deserve this?

Oh gods...

I’d spent the night sleeping next to a man who didn’t think twice about killing someone who crossed me. Sure, I hated Roberto, but he’d also taken me in when I had no chance for survival on the streets. He was also my only source of income.

How would this affect Vivian? And Will?

Vincenzo couldn’t just fucking take everything into his own hands. That was who he was, though. He was the boss. The fucking Night Lord . He had the final say. On everything.

Was this what I wanted? To be with someone who didn’t take my feelings or thoughts into consideration? Worse, was this how Vincenzo solved every single problem? With blood and death?

Panic clawed at my throat, making it hard to breathe. I’d been running from Roberto, trying to escape his control, but now... now I was bound to someone far worse. I’d crossed a line, and there was no going back.

I stood in the center of the en suite bathroom, steam billowing around me. I gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white, as I tried to stop the trembling. No matter how hard I held on, the shaking wouldn’t stop. Roberto’s severed finger flashed behind my eyelids every time I blinked.

I’d seen plenty of gruesome things in my time. The Below wasn’t exactly known for its warmth and humanity, but this felt different.

I took a deep breath, trying to ground myself, but the knot in my chest refused to loosen.

I still felt dirty, even though it wasn’t the kind of dirt that water could wash away.

Stepping into the massive shower, I closed my eyes and let the scalding water hit my skin, hoping to chase away the coldness that clung to me.

Part of me hated Vincenzo for what he’d done, for dragging me into a world where people’s lives were extinguished as easily as snuffing out a candle. Another part, a darker, more twisted part of me, was grateful. Relieved.

I don’t have to look over my shoulder anymore.

Roberto wouldn’t hurt me again. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.

When I’d scrubbed my skin raw, I stepped out, my body shaking less but my mind still buzzing. Wrapping myself in a towel, I stared at the fogged-up mirror for a moment. My reflection was blurry, unrecognizable. Fitting. I didn’t know who I was anymore.

The closet in the room—the room Vincenzo had called mine—was ridiculous.

Designer dresses, shoes, and bags lined the shelves like some high-end boutique.

I didn’t remember ever owning this many clothes.

Someone must have delivered them while I was sleeping.

I bypassed the luxury items and grabbed a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Comfort over couture.

This mansion was enormous. Too big, really. I had no clue where I was going or how to find my way around, or where the hell Vivian might be. I opened the door to the hallway and peeked out, but it was a labyrinth of identical doors and long, dimly lit corridors.

Shit.

I started walking aimlessly, trying to recall the way I came in last night, but everything looked the same. I was about to give up and retreat back to the room when I heard Dorian’s voice.

I jumped, my heart stuttering as I turned to face him.

He was standing just down the hall, his face unreadable.

There was something in the way he looked at me, something that made the air between us shift.

He knew about me and Vincenzo. Of course, he knew.

I could see it in his eyes… the jealousy, the tension.

It was almost palpable. Fuck, I missed him.

For a second, I tensed, waiting for something.

An argument, maybe, or some snarky comment.

None of that came. Dorian gave me a weak grin, like he was forcing himself to shake off the jealousy.

A silent understanding passed between us.

I’d come undone under Vincenzo’s mouth, but my heart?

That was mine. And it would never be theirs. Not like that.

“Come on,” Dorian said, breaking the awkward silence. “You must be starving. Let me show you to the kitchen. This place is a fucking maze.”

I couldn’t argue with that, so I nodded and fell into step beside him as he led me through the mansion.

We walked through hallways that twisted and turned.

We finally reached the kitchen, and it was bustling with staff.

Cooks moved around, preparing dishes like it was a five-star restaurant.

It smelled incredible—fresh bread, bacon, and something sweet.

Dorian introduced me to the head cook, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile.

“You must be Celeste,” she said warmly, looking me up and down. “Vincenzo told us to expect you. He made sure we knew you didn’t like eggs.” She winked. “So, what can I get you instead?”

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. He knew that about me? I hadn’t told him that. It was unsettling how much he knew about me without asking. I forced a smile. “Uh, toast or anything works.”

The cook smiled and bustled off to prepare it. I sat down at the long dining table with Dorian, my mind still whirling. As I ate, though, something shifted in the room. A familiar presence.