Page 123 of Their Reckless Thief
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood. I held his gaze, refusing to show him an inch of the frustration clawing beneath my skin.
“And what, exactly, do you think I’m hiding, Vincenzo?” I asked calmly, coldly. But even I could hear the bitterness in my tone.
He stepped closer, his jaw set, the veins on his neck bulging. “Money’s gone missing,” he spat. “Two million fucking dollars. And guess what? The transactions were made under your login on the computer in my office.”
The ground dropped out from under me. This was a full-blown accusation. One that seared straight to my core. “That’s insane, Vincenzo. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I don’t need your fucking money.”
Vincenzo’s laugh was cold and devoid of humor. “Don’t pretend, Luca. I have it on good authority. The evidence is pretty fucking clear. The video surveillance that night? It was tampered with.” His voice was like ice, each word dripping with disdain. “Which sounds exactly like something you’d do with those fucking shadows of yours.”
“Good authority?” I repeated, my voice barely holding its evenness. “And who’s thisauthority? Someone with an agenda, clearly. You’re taking their word over mine?” I forced my breathing to slow, to keep from stepping forward and making him see reason. “After everything I’ve done?—”
He cut me off with a derisive scoff. “Tell me, then. Where’s the money? It sure as hell didn’t get up and walk itself out of my fucking account.”
“I don’t know,” I snapped. “But you’re damn well mistaken if you think it was me. After all these years, surely you know, with certainty, where my loyalty lies.”
“It’s your password, your access!” His voice thundered back, so loud it reverberated through the room. “If it wasn’t you, then who?”
The silence that fell was oppressive, a suffocating blanket of distrust and betrayal. My jaw tightened as I stared him down. “You’re going to regret this. I don’t know who’s playing you, but I swear, it wasn’t me.”
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Celeste and Dorian appeared in the doorway, their faces etched with confusion and worry. Dorian’s gaze flicked between Vincenzo and me, and I saw the concern and caution in his expression.
Vincenzo’s cold gaze didn’t falter as he addressed me. “I’m done with the games, Luca. Until I know I can trust you again, you’re going to stay somewhere you can’t cause any more trouble.”
“You’re going to put me in confinement?” I stepped forward, my shadows writhing around me, begging to lash out, to teach Vincenzo a lesson for doubting my loyalty. The look on Celeste’s face made me think twice.
“I’ll go, but only because I know you’re going to come crawling back when you realize you’ve made a fucking huge mistake.”
The hardness in his gaze didn’t waver. He grabbed my arm, his grip firm, almost bruising. I allowed it, though every part of me screamed to fight back.Let him have his moment. Let him think he is doing the right thing.He’d know the truth soon enough.
Dorian finally spoke, stepping forward with a frown. “Vincenzo, what the hell’s going on here?”
“I can’t trust him, Dorian. There’s money missing from my account. Evidence that points to him. Until I can be sure he’s not a threat, he’s staying where I can keep a close eye on him.”
Dorian’s jaw clenched, his gaze darting between us, his internal conflict evident. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve known Luca a long time. He wouldn’t steal from you.”
I let out a bitter, humorless laugh. Surely Dorian could make a stronger case for my innocence, but he’d never go against Vincenzo, no matter how asinine his logic was. “Thanks for that twisted sense of loyalty, Dorian.” I was unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice.
Dorian was caught in the middle, torn between his instincts and the evidence Vincenzo thought he had. I almost pitied him.
Then my gaze landed on Celeste. She stood behind Dorian, her gaze fixed on me, her expression a mix of confusion and…doubt? Just the briefest flash, but it cut through me more deeply than I’d expected. I had never needed anyone’s approval, yet that sliver of hesitation in her eyes made my stomach turn. She held my gaze for a second before looking away, and it felt like a punch to the gut.
Vincenzo’s grip tightened as he pulled me forward, leading me toward the cell in the basement. “Let’s go.”
Dorian followed closely behind, the muscles in his face taut. As we passed Celeste, she remained silent, her gaze lowered, and for the first time since I’d set foot in Vincenzo’s home, I felt the bitter sting of isolation. I swallowed it down, forcing myself to bury any lingering feeling of betrayal. I was a weapon, trained for this life, and I didn’t need anyone. I certainly didn’t fucking need their pity or wavering loyalty.
Only time would prove them wrong.
The heavy iron door clanged shut behind me, echoing off the stone walls like a death knell. The scrape of metal on metal followed the lock turning with a finality that pressed down on my chest like a vise. I stood still, the chill of the cell sinking into my bones, but the cold was nothing compared to the bite of betrayal. A cell. Vincenzo had locked me in a fucking cell. And I’d allowed it.
His hand lingered on the door, as if he, too, were feeling the weight of what he’d done. For a split second, his face softened, and I saw a glimmer of remorse, maybe even doubt.
“It’s nothing personal, Luca,” he murmured, his voice strained, like he was convincing himself as much as me. “You’re only here until I can confirm you’re telling the truth.”
Nothing personal.The words grated against every ounce of loyalty I’d ever shown him. Nothing personal, after years of trust, of loyalty forged in blood and shadow. I met his gaze, refusing to let him know how deeply this cut, how his lack of faith carved me open. I had done things for him that I wouldnever admit to another soul. I had protected him from The Shadow, from his enemies… even from himself when he flew off the damn handle, unable to control his emotions.
That wasn’t enough for him. Not when there was doubt hanging in the room like poison.
I forced myself to nod, though more in resignation than agreement. He had to do what he thought was right. As he turned away, casting one last conflicted look over his shoulder, the hollow ache in my chest deepened.
