Page 9 of Their Reckless Thief (The Below #1)

We moved through a side door into a part of the basement most didn’t know about.

It was worlds apart from the torture chamber she’d just been in.

It was all dark wood, leather chairs, and overflowing bookshelves.

A well-stocked bar stood in the corner, cigars and expensive whiskey arranged neatly and untouched.

The fridge held the most exclusive blood bags.

It looked like a private library, a room of luxury and indulgence, far removed from the brutality of the other side of the basement.

“This,” I said, gesturing around the room, “is where I’d rather be. You can take a seat, or I can toss you back into the other room. Your call.”

She glanced at the plush leather couch, but instead of sitting, she crossed her arms and remained standing. “I’m fine here.”

I cocked my head to the side, amused. “Suit yourself.”

I walked over to the bar, pouring a goblet of whiskey mixed with blood and lighting a cigar. The rich, smoky scent filled the room, and I took a long drag. I exhaled slowly, watching her as I sat down in one of the leather chairs and crossed one leg over the other.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked, my voice low, almost casual. Luca and Dorian stood in the shadows, watching with as much curiosity as was plaguing me.

She didn’t flinch. “I know you’re part of the mafia,” she said, trying to sound cool and indifferent, but there was a glimmer of something in her eyes—uncertainty, perhaps. Good.

I let out a cold laugh. “ Part of the mafia?” I leaned forward, my gaze locking on hers. “Oh, sweetheart. I am the fucking mafia.”

She stiffened, but she didn’t back down. I liked that about her. She had fire, something most people didn’t have when they were sitting across from me.

“Would you like a drink…? I’m sorry, I believe we skipped introductions. Please tell me your name, love.”

“Celeste. And whiskey. Neat.”

This woman just kept getting hotter. I poured her drink, the whiskey sloshing loudly in the quiet room.

I turned and walked over to where she stood, towering above her as she glared up at me. What a tiny thing she was.

I set down the drink and grabbed Celeste by the arm, dragging her to the couch. I shoved her onto the cushions, pressing against her shoulder to keep her in place.

She grunted but didn’t fight back. I grabbed our glasses from the table, handing hers to her like the gentleman I was.

I dropped into the chair across from her, swirling the blood cocktail in my glass.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Celeste ,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.

“You’re in my world now. So, you can either cooperate and tell me what the hell you were doing in my mansion, or I’ll make sure you wish you had. ”

She crossed her arms, leaning back into the couch with a defiant smirk. “Fuck. You.”

The challenge in her voice made my blood run hot. This would not be easy. But damn if I didn’t enjoy a good game of cat-and-mouse.

I grinned as I leaned back and lit my cigar, taking a slow drag.

Celeste, unexpectedly and without permission, stood up and sauntered over to me, the sway of her hips deliberate as she perched on the arm of my chair.

I heard Luca’s disapproving sigh in the background, but I kept my attention on her.

She leaned down, her fingers lightly brushing up the side of my neck, her lips hovering close to my ear.

“Surely we can work something out,” she whispered, her voice sultry as her fingers moved in slow, teasing circles.

Her breath was warm on my skin, but I didn’t move. Intrigued? Maybe. Impressed? Not in the least.

There was something utterly amusing about a woman who didn’t know her place, one who thought she could just waltz into my world, pull a stunt like that, and then use her body to get out of it.

I let her get close, closer than most people dared, before I shifted in my seat and stood with the speed only a vampire possessed.

In the blink of an eye, I had her pressed up against the wall, my hips grinding against hers with deliberate pressure.

Her sharp inhale gave her away. She might’ve been a professional, but she wasn’t immune to me.

I pressed my hand against her neck, my fingers tightening just enough to be restrictive but not cutting off her airway yet.

“You really think you could handle me, dolcezza ?” I whispered, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, feeling her pulse spike beneath my fingertips. “You shouldn’t ask for things you’re not ready for.”

Celeste’s eyes darkened slightly. Her breathing quickened, the tension between us palpable. True to form, she didn’t back down. She tried to shove me back, though she had to know the force meant nothing to me.

I stepped back, giving her just enough space to collect herself, but the grin that curled on my lips never wavered. I wasn’t going to make this easy for her. She’d walked into my home, eavesdropped on a meeting that could end entire factions, and now she thought she could flirt her way out of it?

Cute.

I released her neck and started pacing, keeping my eyes locked on her, the hunger in me barely veiled. “ What did you hear?”

Celeste pressed her back harder against the wall, crossing her arms in a feigned display of nonchalance. “I didn’t hear anything,” she said a little too casually.

Wrong answer.

I closed the distance between us again, snatching a blade from my belt and pressing the cold steel right to her throat. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, but she didn’t flinch.

“I’m not fucking playing, dolcezza ,” I growled, pressing the blade hard enough to nick her skin, just a drop of blood spilling.

My senses sharpened immediately—the scent of her blood, the rush of her pulse.

Before I could stop myself, I leaned in and flicked my tongue over it.

The taste was electric, shooting through my veins like a drug I hadn’t had in centuries.

I moaned quietly, barely audible, but I could feel her tense under me, her heart rate spiking.

Fuck.

I took her in—the rise and fall of her chest, the heat radiating off her skin. I could feel the way her body responded to me, the flush in her cheeks, the way her breath hitched. She wanted to pretend she was unaffected, but I could smell her arousal.

My gaze dropped to her breasts pressed against her tight leather jacket, and my jaw clenched. Motherfucker.

“I’ll ask you again,” I said slowly, savoring each word. “What did you hear?”

She licked her lips, swallowing hard but not saying anything.

“Vincenzo, she’s a fucking thief.” Luca’s low voice cut through the tension. He and Dorian had quietly moved behind me, their gazes trained on Celeste.

Dorian, ever the joker, smirked. “Yeah, a hot as fuck thief,” he added. “I bet I know what else she’s good at.”

I glared at him, a silent warning to shut the fuck up, though I could see his smirk linger in my peripheral vision. Luca, of course, said nothing more, but he was watching her closely.

Celeste’s gaze snapped over to Dorian and Luca, as if weighing her options. I leaned in closer again.

“Talk, dolcezza ,” I said softly, the edge of the blade still pressed against her throat.

Her lips curled into a defiant smirk. “I heard something about The Shadow and some mirror. But I don’t give a fuck. Just let me go, and I’ll forget all about it.”

I grinned, but it wasn’t friendly. “Oh, you’ll forget all about it, huh?”

She didn’t waver. That impressed me.

I pressed the knife harder against her throat, drawing another drop of blood. I leaned in and licked it once more, savoring the taste of her, then whispered, “I don’t think you want me to stop.”

Her gasp was like music, her breathing ragged. The pink flush in her cheeks made me feel like I might come just from looking at her. I pulled back and stared at her, my eyes darkening. “Tell me you’re not turned on by this, and I’ll stop.” I pressed my body hard against hers.

Her eyes, full of fire, met mine. “Fuck you.”

She shuddered slightly against me, and her muscles tensed, but it wasn’t out of fear.

Her breath quickened, and I could smell her arousal even stronger now.

I slid one hand down to the front of her leather leggings, slipping my fingers inside.

She was soaked for me, and I couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped my throat.

“Fuck,” I whispered, swiping at her wetness before bringing my fingers to my mouth and sucking the taste of her off them. I gave her a slow, knowing smile as I went back to her neck.

I laughed low in my chest. God, she was fun. I slid my hand down again, but before I could take it further, I stepped back, composing myself. There was a reason she was here, and I needed to remember that. No matter how much my body wanted to forget it.

Someone cleared their throat. Alessandro and Camilla stood at the doorway. “The footage was tampered with, boss. Couldn’t make out a damn thing,” Alessandro said.

Celeste was obviously good at what she did. I could certainly find ways to use her skills—in more ways than one.

I straightened, staring down at her. “You’ve got two options, dolcezza. I can kill you right now, or you can work for me. Be indebted to me, and all that that entails.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not fucking scared of you.”

“Oh, but you should be.” I jerked her forward, throwing her into Dorian’s arms. He caught her easily, grinning like a kid with a new toy.

“Lock her up,” I ordered. “I’ll figure out what to do with her tomorrow.”

She struggled against Dorian’s grip. “I can’t stay here. I’ve got people waiting for me. I’ve got a life, work to do.”

I glanced back at her over my shoulder, my voice cold when I spoke. “Not anymore.”