Page 140 of Their Reckless Thief
“I look at you how I want,” I said, a bit sharper than I’d intended.
She didn’t flinch. Her gaze was steady, unwavering. She’d seen something in me, something I hadn’t meant to reveal, and now she was waiting for me to acknowledge it.
In that moment, I was certain she saw every part of me, even the pieces I tried to keep hidden. She touched my face, and when her fingers brushed my skin, it was like I was free-falling. It made it hard to breathe. She moved her beautiful, sexy lips toward mine, and as much as I wanted them, I couldn’t. I couldn’t promise her something I didn’t have the capacity for.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Celeste,” I whispered, feeling the words claw at my throat. “I want all of you. But I don’t… I can’t love you. Not the way you want.”
She didn’t pull away, but there was a glimmer of hurt in her eyes, and I hated myself for putting it there. “Why not?” she whispered, her voice so small and filled with everything I didn’t deserve.
“Because love isn’t something I have within me. I’ve watched people wield it as a weapon. It’s something I’ve never personally received, nor had the capacity to give. I don’t want to accept something from you that I can’t reciprocate. I can’t. You deserve more than that.”
She cradled my face, forcing me to meet her gaze. “I trust you, Vincenzo. I know you’re not your past. I see you… the real you.”
How could she look at me and see anything worth saving? Anything other than the man who’d lied, killed, and stolen his way to power? Yet here she was, unafraid, certain. Her trust felt like an anchor, something solid in a world that had always been chaos.
The admission tore through me, leaving a raw, aching wound in its place. She could forgive me for things I couldn’t even forgive myself for, and that was perhaps the cruelest irony of all. I wanted to warn her, to tell her that letting me in would only end in pain. Because pain was all I knew.
“You’re mine, Celeste. And I’m yours. All of me. But you need to know, you’re playing with fire.”
Her gaze remained unflinching, her lips curving in a steady smile. “I enjoy the heat.”
I pressed my forehead against hers, breathing her in. She was the calm in my storm, the only steady thing I had, and even though I knew better, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I couldn’t bring myself to admit, even in the privacy of my own thoughts. But here, in the quiet calm with her, I could pretend.
And for one brief, stolen moment, I let myself believe that maybe—just maybe—she was right.
The night airhung heavy with a quiet chill as I left the terrace, leaving Celeste behind. The others had found us, and I wasn’t in the mood for company. I watched her laugh at something Dorian had said. Her face lit up, and it struck me right in the gut. She fit seamlessly into the picture, like she’d always been here. And as I watched her, that question echoed in my mind:What is love, really?
Love. I’d spent my entire life avoiding the very notion of it. To love meant to surrender, to give someone else the ability to tear me apart if they wanted to. It was a concept as foreign as it was revolting, one that my father had mocked and manipulated, turning it into a weapon as sharp and cold as any blade he’d wielded. I’d sworn I would never fall into the trap.
But now, every time I looked at Celeste, that damn word crept into my mind, unwanted and unyielding. Love wasn’t something I could give, wasn’t something that could exist in someone like me. To care about someone was to invite chaos and vulnerability, and I’d spent my life building armor against it. Still, what I felt for her was… different. Fierce, raw, something that defied all the rules I’d set for myself.
I leaned against the cool stone wall, soaking up the stillness. What I felt went deeper than any obsession and was more permanent than any infatuation. My constant need to ensure she was safe, to see that flash of defiance and warmth in her eyes… it bordered on ownership. But was it? Or was it something else?
I wanted her in ways I couldn’t explain. I was losing pieces of myself to her, becoming a man I barely recognized. And the worst part? She could see through it all. She knew the parts of me I kept hidden from everyone else. How could I possibly love someone who knew me better than I’d ever allowed myself to know anyone? She’d somehow slipped through every wall I’d built, pried apart the armor I’d spent years perfecting.
And I’d allowed it.
My chest ached, which was yet another thing I wasn’t used to. It wasn’t the brutal hunger that overtook me when we were alone. I could control that, channel it. No, this was deeper. Fiercer, even. Something like fear.
I shifted my gaze back to where she stood, flashing that charming smile at Luca. When she touched his arm, I felt that pang again. Fierce. Unrestrained.
I wanted to walk over, pull her back into my arms, and make her forget everyone else existed. I wanted her to look at me and only me. It wasn’t love—it couldn’t be—but whatever it was, it was stronger than me.
Love meant surrendering control, a concept as foreign to me as the idea of giving someone my trust. Love, as I understood it, was a weakness, a sickness I’d seen ruin lives time and time again. I could never give that to her. Couldn’t offer her the one thing she craved.
No, I couldn’t give her my love. But I could protect her. I could keep her safe. I could make her moan my name over and over in the throes of passion. That was all I had to offer her—a twisted sense of the devotion she deserved to receive from me. My loyalty was fierce, yes, my need to shield her from any harm a promise I intended to keep no matter what it cost me. But was it love? No. It couldn’t be.
I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to quiet the chaos within me. This hunger to possess her, to have her need me as desperately as I needed her, was my own private hell. And maybe I was okay with that.
I would do whatever it took to protect her, to keep her here, even if it meant convincing myself that this wasn’t love. I could live with the lie if it meant I could keep her.
42
CELESTE
The Phantomine floodedmy veins like liquid fire, spreading a hazy warmth through my bones. I’d taken more than intended, more than I needed to help me fall asleep. It wasn’t long before I realized it was far more than I could handle, and the world around me began to sway, distorting and bending as if I were slipping into another realm.
My fingers trembled, the air around me thickening, colors and shadows blurring into twisted shapes I could almost recognize—hidden secrets, ancient memories tugging at the edges of my consciousness.
