Page 142 of Their Reckless Thief
Desperation clawed up my throat, my lungs constricting with each breath. “You don’t understand. It helps. It’s the only thing that?—”
“That’s enough.” Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he pulled out his phone, dialing with one hand as he held me steady with the other. “Dorian, I want every last vial of Phantomine cleared out of Celeste’s room. And if you find any stashed anywhere else in the house, get rid of it. Now.”
“No!” Panic surged through me, and I thrashed against him, the cold water splashing over the edge of the tub as I tried to pull free. “Don’t… don’t do that!”
He ignored my desperate pleas, his grip unyielding, his eyes never leaving my face. “You’re going to get clean, Celeste. This ends tonight.”
I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks as I clung to him, the hollow ache inside me threatening to swallow me whole. “Please, don’t take it away from me. I need it?—”
He leaned down, his face inches from mine, and his voice, a low, controlled growl, chilled me to the bone. “You do something like this again, and I’ll make you regret it, Celeste. I decide when you die. No one else—not even you. Do you understand?”
I searched his face, looking for the cold, ruthless man I knew so well, but what I saw wasn’t only anger. Beneath the fury, beneath the iron control, was fear—raw, real fear—and a fierce protectiveness that softened the hardness in his gaze.
“Celeste,” he breathed, the anger in his voice ebbing into something fierce and quiet. “Do you really think I’d let you destroy yourself? Do you think I can stand by and watch that happen?”
I swallowed, my throat tight as the depth of his emotions crashed over me, making it hard to breathe. “Why do you care so much?” My voice was barely a whisper, the question spilling out before I could stop it.
He hesitated as he stroked my cheek, a vulnerability in his eyes that I’d never seen before. “Because you’ve come to mean more to me than I ever expected. This thing between us, whatever it is, I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you.”
His confession warmed a part of me I thought had long gone cold. “I’m sorry, Vincenzo.” It was all I could manage.
He shook his head. “No more apologies. Just promise me you’ll try.”
I nodded. The Phantomine haze lifted slightly as his fierce, unwavering gaze held me in place.
He exhaled slowly, his eyes softening. He held me close as if he could shield me from the dark edges of my own mind. I pressed my cheek against his shoulder, and the reality of everything—the depth of his care, the finality of his decision—settled over me.
“I’m not letting you go, Celeste. Not now, not ever.”
43
VINCENZO
I liftedher out of the tub as if she were made of porcelain, though every part of me screamed to hold her tighter, to shield her from the world. She trembled in my arms, her teeth chattering from the cold, and I remembered the last time I’d held her this way, pulling her from a similar haze. This time, the desperation that clawed at me was deeper and darker than ever before. Losing her wasn’t an option. Not now, not ever.
She was so fragile, so irreplaceable. I gently laid her down on my bed and layered blankets over her, pulling the covers high as if they could shield her from every danger, even the danger I was to her. I got in beside her, hoping my warmth could soothe the shivers that wracked her. Her skin, cold and clammy under my fingers, felt like a blade to my heart.
Her breathing evened out, falling in sync with mine as I brushed her damp hair back over her shoulder, taking in the delicate thrum of her pulse in her neck. Her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze finding mine with a softness that shook me.
“Celeste,” I whispered, my control slipping. I swallowed hard. “I almost lost you again.”
She found my hand under the blankets, curling her fingers around mine. She was so small, so damn fragile.
“I’m still here,” she whispered.
“I can’t let this happen again.” My voice came out cracked, raw. “I can’t... not with you.” I squeezed her hand tightly. “I lost my sister to a drug overdose a few hundred years ago. Back then, Phantomine didn’t exist, but the drug of choice was just as addictive. Most batches were tainted, not pure. Quality control didn’t exist. She got a bad dose.” I paused, swallowing hard. “That’s why I’m so passionate about keeping the drugs in my territory clean. Pure.”
Her eyes held mine, full of a strength and resilience I hadn’t expected. I could see her slowly piecing together what I’d been too afraid to say out loud. There was no going back, no denying it. I was in too deep, bound to her in ways that were as terrifying as they were permanent.
“I love you, Celeste.” The words broke out of me, each one searing and fierce, as if they’d been forged in fire. “I think I finally understand what it means. To me, at least.” I took a slow breath, letting the words settle between us as I looked into her eyes. “Love,” I whispered. “I never thought I’d understand it. I’ve spent my whole life looking at it from the outside, like some foreign thing meant for other people, never for me. I thought it was possession, control… I thought it was just another way to wield power. But with you…” I shook my head, trying to put it into words that didn’t sound hollow. “With you, it’s something different. It’s about caring so much that your happiness becomes my own. And, gods, Celeste, that terrifies me because it makes me vulnerable in ways I’ve never allowed myself to be. But it’s powerful too. You make me want to be something more than I am, to do more than I’d do for myself.” I traced her cheek with my thumb. “I never thought I’d be capable of it, Celeste, but I don’t want anything else. I’d give up everything I know just to keep you close.”
She pressed her hand to my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw. “You. This. It’s everything I didn’t know I wanted. Needed.”
The weight that had hung over me for so long lifted, and something warmer, more terrifying, took its place. I was unraveling, piece by piece, letting her see me in a way no one else ever had. It was a risk, yet with her, it felt inevitable. Inescapable. Like it was written in the stars, in our very cells.
Celeste leaned in, brushing her lips against mine in a tentative kiss, so light, so gentle, it was almost too much to bear. My heart stuttered at this gift she was giving me. Her gaze held mine, searching, her eyes reflecting that unspoken promise. I didn’t think; I just surrendered.
I pulled her close, letting every part of me bleed into the kiss—raw, unfiltered, and consuming. Her mouth was soft, her lips warm and yielding beneath mine, and I got caught up in the intensity of each brush, each movement of our lips. I kissed her like she was the last thing tethering me to the world, and maybe, in a way, she was.
