Page 172 of Their Reckless Thief
CELESTE
The path stretched aheadof us at the edge of The Shadow’s territory. Somehow, the shadows seemed even more oppressive now that we knew their truth.
As we stepped over the border, Vincenzo looked into the mirror. He angled it carefully, its surface rippling as it absorbed the illusions cast over this place like a dark veil.
Vivian walked close to my side. She had insisted on joining us this time, refusing to stay behind like she always did. Vincenzo tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t hear any of it. She insisted that she deserved a little adventure after guiding us through the mirror heist.
What had once appeared as wastelands, ruin, and decay, shifted before our eyes. Slowly, like the lifting of a fog, The Shadow’s true domain unfolded before us. The decay peeled away, and in its place, we saw gardens bursting with color, streets lined with cobblestone, lanterns glowing warmly over shopfronts, and homes adorned with intricate carvings and lush greenery. Life thrived here, vibrant and untouched by the desolation The Shadow had made the world believe was real.
“Stunning,” I murmured, glancing around as a sense of wonder mixed with wariness. All this time, he had maskedthis, allowed people to see only rot and ruin, while behind his illusions lay a thriving, powerful territory.
“Really?” Vivian asked. “It looks like a shithole to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s because you refused to look into the mirror. Don’t you want to see what this place really looks like?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Not interested.”
I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Luca walked a few paces ahead, leading us deeper into the territory. His face remained impassive, but I sensed his underlying tension, as though he was seeing his home with new eyes, experiencing it again through our reactions to its beauty.
Vincenzo kept the mirror close, glancing into it now and then as if ensuring that what we saw wasn’t just another illusion. “All this, right on the edge of my territory, hidden under my nose,” he muttered, like the words had a bitter taste.
Luca didn’t look back, but his voice cut through the quiet. “This is what he wants to protect. The illusion keeps his territory secure, distant, and unthreatened by others who might see its worth and challenge him.”
As we continued, the buildings only grew more ornate, their walls etched with intricate designs, shimmering with faint traces of magic. The territory had been cultivated with care, resources, and a level of attention most territories could only dream of affording. As we walked, we passed people going about their daily lives, laughing and haggling in small markets, and a few children darting between stalls. Even under The Shadow’s looming presence and the disease Luca had told us about, life here still flourished somehow.
Finally, we reached the mansion. The structure was made of elegant stone and glass, with high arches that caught the fading light, casting a warm, golden hue over the courtyard. It was no fortress of desolation. No, it was as grand as any royal palace, every corner designed with precision and beauty.
“Here.” Vincenzo thrust the mirror into Dorian’s chest. “Store this in your pocket realm. I don’t want The Shadow to see it until we’re ready to show all our cards.”
Dorian did as he was told, and the mirror quickly disappeared from view.
Luca led us through the entrance, his steps careful yet determined. The guards barely spared us a second glance as we passed, and an eerie silence enveloped us.
“He knows we’re here,” Luca muttered, his tone hard as his gaze shifted to the empty corridors, the lack of resistance. “No one’s trying to stop us.”
I glanced around, feeling a prickle of unease as we moved deeper into the mansion. It was gorgeous, with high ceilings, intricate carved doorways, and fancy artwork on the walls. The silence was so deafening I could hear my own breath as we approached The Shadow’s office.
Luca stopped in front of an ornate, polished door, his hand hovering over the handle. He glanced over his shoulder at us, then pushed it open.
And there, sitting in the large, leather chair behind his desk, was The Shadow, his gaze cool and composed. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small, calculated smile as he watched us enter, his eyes flicking first to Luca, then lingering on me, and finally shifting to Vincenzo.
I braced myself for the monstrous figure I’d seen in my nightmares, the ominous shape of dark smoke and endless malice. But as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I drew in a sharp breath. Instead of a creature of nightmares, a man lounged casually behind an impressive dark wood desk, his feet propped up, every inch of him effortlessly imposing and disturbingly handsome.
His hair, jet-black and gleaming under the light, fell just above his shoulders, framing a face with sharp angles and eyesa piercing shade of blue, nearly dark enough to be black. He looked nothing like the embodiment of fear I’d imagined.
“Vincenzo. I thought I told you to never step foot in my territory again without my fucking permission.” He ran a hand through his hair, his lips curling into a smirk. “Don’t tell me your old age is finally catching up with you. Memory loss, perhaps?”
Vivian crossed her arms, pulling The Shadow’s gaze to her. “And who the fuck are you?”
She cleared her throat. “Nobody.”
He let out a sharp laugh. “Just as I thought.” His gaze flicked to me, his mouth curving into a smile that bordered on mocking. He pointed lazily at the markings curling up my arm. “Ah, I sensed you were close, Celeste,” he drawled, the deep timbre of his voice as smooth as it was unnerving. Mischief sparkled in his eyes. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”
Vincenzo’s response was immediate, his tone as cold as steel. “Let’s get straight to it,” he said, stepping forward. “We’re here to discuss a truce.”
The Shadow’s brows lifted, intrigue briefly flashing across his face before he let out a low, mocking laugh that reverberated off the walls. “A truce? And what could you possibly offer that would make me want to do that?”
