Page 124 of Their Reckless Thief
The wards in the cell were oppressive, stifling my magic to seal me in.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. In trying to protect his empire, he’d thrown me back into a familiar prison…the same prison of suspicion I’d been forced into once before by those I was committed fully to.
My family, the people who were supposed to believe in me without question, had been the first to condemn me when I was only a child. They hadn’t believed me either. Hadn’t believed me when I told them it was an accident. No one had. The betrayal that had followed, them disowning me and casting me out, had left scars I thought I’d buried deep. Yet there I was again, back in that place of helplessness, back in the hands of someone who was supposed to trust me. That I was supposed to trust.
The memory clawed its way up from the depths, bitter and raw. I could still see my father’s face twisted in rage, my mother’s icy disappointment, the accusatory whispers that had filled every room I walked into. My brother’s lifeless eyes, staring up at me, accusing even in death. Nothing was as bad as the self-induced hatred that started the moment my magic betrayed me. And now, Vincenzo was looking at me with that same twisted betrayal as my family had.
This time, I didn’t deserve it. Not for this.
I clenched my fists, the sharp bite of my nails grounding me. Without thinking, I reached out, summoning the shadows to curl around me, to lend me a comfort I hadn’t realized I needed. Nothing happened. My power lay dormant, unreachable behind the wards.
Of course, he’d taken away even that. The one constant, the one thing I could control, was now out of reach. Trapped and stripped of my power, I was left with only my thoughts and the cold stone walls pressing in on me.
I heard the creak of the door at the end of the corridor. Tensing, I looked up, but it was only Dorian. Relief and frustration warred in his gaze, and I could tell he was as torn as I was. Part of him trusted me; the other part was bound to Vincenzo.
“What the fuck is going on, Luca?”
I forced myself to meet his gaze, to keep my voice steady despite the bitterness bubbling beneath the surface. “Honestly, Dorian? I don’t know. Vincenzo thinks I’m siphoning off money from his Vaultis account, but I swear on my life, I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t.”
Dorian’s jaw tightened. He looked at me, weighing my words against everything he knew about me. Finally, he nodded, his expression softening. “I believe you, man. I know you’re loyal. I just needed to hear it straight from you.”
The words sank into me, a balm against the burn of betrayal. In a strange way, his loyalty stung. He’d always been quick to give it, even in the face of doubt. And here he was, standing by me, believing me when the one person who should’ve had my back was the one who’d put me in here.
“Thanks.” The word came out rougher than I’d intended. Gratitude was something I gave sparingly, and it felt foreign on my tongue. Right now, it was all I had.
Dorian leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Look, Vincenzo’s pissed about losing two million, but he’ll cool down.” He paused, his gaze flashing with something almost hopeful. “He’s got to know that you’d never do this. He always sees sense eventually.”
I gave him a short nod, though the hollow ache in my heart remained. Part of me wanted to believe him, to think that Vincenzo would realize his mistake. Another part, the part that still bore the scars of my family’s betrayal, knew better than to hold onto hope. Because sometimes, no amount of loyalty was enough to erase suspicion.
Hours slipped by,each one heavier and darker than the last, as I was left with nothing but my thoughts. I sat back against the cold, unforgiving stone, my mind gnawing over every detail of how things had spiraled into this miserable mess.
Then, like a twinkle of light in that endless dark, I felt her before I saw her.
Celeste. She was bathed in the dim glow of a single, stuttering bulb. Her silhouette was both soft and piercing, her blonde hair pulled back, stray strands framing a face that was the closest thing to calm I’d felt since I’d been thrown in here. The sight of her—a figure in delicate silk, wrapped in something so insubstantial it nearly angered me—tightened something deep inside. She was all wrong in this place, and yet there she was.
I didn’t move. She reached her hand through the bars, palm open, her slender fingers beckoning me. She didn’t speak, but the quiet look in her eyes was louder than any words. For a heartbeat, I resisted, wanting to ignore her as much as I wanted to draw closer. The iron in her gaze shattered that resolve. I slidmy fingers into hers, her warmth grounding me, pulling me from the storm brewing in my mind. Her gaze locked onto mine, a current of something in them. Pity, maybe?
“Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped. Pity was the last thing I wanted. Especially now. Especially from her.
A small tremor passed through her, barely perceptible, but then she raised her other hand, slipping it through the bars to rest on the back of my neck, her fingers weaving through my hair. It was intimate, almost painfully so, and instinctively, I pulled back, retreating from the touch as though it burned. Her hand dropped, and the glimmer of hurt in her expression stung far deeper than I wanted to admit.
“You won’t even let me comfort you?” she asked.
“I don’t want your comfort.” The words came out sharp, biting, but I held firm, keeping the line between us as hard as steel. Her comfort was the most dangerous thing I could accept, something that would slip under my guard and twist the knife already lodged deep. She didn’t understand—couldn’t understand. That was how it had to stay.
For a moment, her face was still, her eyes searching mine, and I wished like hell that she’d look away. A tear slipped down her cheek, and the sight of it nearly unraveled me. The urge to reach through the bars, to pull her close, was so powerful it frightened me.
“Celeste, why are you crying?” The question came out softly, almost tender, before I could stop myself.
She drew a shaky breath, brushing the tear away. “Because…” she hesitated, guilt clouding her expression. “Because this is all my fault.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about? This isn’t your fault. How could it be?”
“You don’t understand.” Her voice wavered, each word laced with regret. “That night, I couldn’t sleep, before I came to talkto you…” She looked away, shoulders tense, and I felt my heart stutter. “Before I went to see you, I saw Vincenzo’s computer was on. The banking website was open. I saw the balance in his account, Luca, and it was more money than I could fathom. And all I could think about were the women, Roberto’s dolls, the ones who had lost everything because of me.”
Each word of her confession tightened around me like a noose. “Celeste, what did you do?” My voice sounded alien, strained, as if coming from someone else.
“I thought he wouldn’t notice if a little was gone.” She let out a shaky breath. “Two million. Just a drop in the ocean for him. So, I transferred it, wiped the transaction with Vivian’s help, and we divided it up, put it into the accounts of the women who’d lost their livelihood after Roberto died.” Her voice broke, but she continued. “I know Vincenzo’s going to kill me, but I had to tell you. I couldn’t let you pay for something I did.”
