Page 174 of Their Reckless Thief
Without a word, The Shadow took a step forward, his intense gaze assessing me.
He pointed at me, his voice shaky and apprehensive. “You. Your blood has the potential to be the cure. The Mirror showed me how your genetic anomaly that allows you to see visions of the future, mixed with your past use of Phantomine have combined to create what could be the formula needed to heal the women of my territory.”
The weight of his realization dropped like a stone in my stomach, but I remembered my own truths displayed in the mirror. My destiny to be free, to choose my own path.
I could save these women’s lives.
I met his gaze firmly. “If my blood can help, you can have it. I’ll give samples. Whatever you need to make this right and find a cure. As long as you agree to Vincenzo’s terms.”
Gratitude, and something softer, flashed across his face before it settled back into his usual unreadable mask. He nodded curtly, his gaze shifting to the others. “Thank you,” he said, the words clipped but carrying a depth I hadn’t expected. “With your samples, my scientists can create the cure we’ve sought for decades.”
A muscle in Vincenzo’s jaw ticked, but he held back, nodding in silent approval. The Shadow moved toward the desk, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, and then he faced Vincenzo once more.
“In respect of our agreement,” The Shadow said, his voice even but tinged with the faintest hint of reverence, “I will release the women. And I will withdraw my illusions from your territory, returning every inch I’ve taken. This truce stands between us.”
His gaze shifted back to me, his hand lifting to gesture at the mark curling up my arm, the one he had cursed me with to track my every move. “You’ve done more for my people than you’ll ever know. And for that, I owe you this.” His hand moved in a subtle, practiced motion, and a searing heat gripped my wrist as the shadowy markings began to dissolve, unwinding from my skin like smoke.
The moment they vanished, a lightness washed over me, a freedom I hadn’t felt since the mark first appeared. I let out a shuddering breath, my heart pounding with overwhelming relief. The tether was gone.
He turned to Luca, who still sat with his back against the wall, trying to regain his strength. He raised his hand, and the markings on Luca’s arm vanished. Smoke dissipated into the air, and Luca grimaced in pain.
The Shadow’s hand fell to his side, his face now impassive. “It’s done.”
Vincenzo inclined his head slightly, a signal of respect. This peace was not forged in dominance or fear, but in mutual necessity. As we turned to leave, a subtle shift in the air told me that the war we’d fought with shadows and secrets had finally found its resolution.
55
CELESTE
The thrumof bass from the nightclub’s speakers vibrated through my chest, the energy electric and infectious. Dorian’s newest club was packed, the dance floor alive with flashing lights and bodies moving to the rhythm. The air smelled of sweat, perfume, and expensive liquor.
We were seated in the VIP section in a booth tucked into a corner, giving us a perfect view of the dance floor while still allowing some privacy. Vincenzo leaned back against the leather, exuding effortless confidence in his perfectly tailored suit. Luca, as always, sat in the shadows, his brooding presence commanding without trying. Dorian, ever the life of the party, laughed loudly as he recounted some ridiculous story about a rival club owner.
It had been days since we struck our deal with The Shadow, and the victory still buzzed between us. Vincenzo’s women were free, and the weight that had pressed on us for weeks had finally lifted. For the first time in what felt like forever, we could breathe. And tonight, we celebrated.
Vincenzo flagged down a server, his fingers brushing mine. “A round of your best whiskey for the table,” he said smoothly.His dark eyes flicked to mine, holding them for a moment longer than necessary.
The drinks arrived swiftly—crystal glasses filled with amber liquid that caught the light like fire. Vincenzo raised his glass, and we followed. “To victories,” he said, his voice low and velvety. His gaze swept over me, then Luca and Dorian. “And to the battles we’ll win next.”
“To victories,” I echoed, clinking my glass against his. The burn of whiskey slid down my throat, warm and intoxicating, and I felt a rush of something more potent than alcohol.
Freedom.
Dorian grabbed my hand, pulling me from the booth with a grin that promised trouble. “Enough sitting. You’re coming to dance.”
“Is that a request or a command?” I teased as he led me to the dance floor.
He spun me into the crowd. “Does it matter?”
The beat pulsed through my veins as we moved. Vincenzo joined us, his hands finding my hips as he pulled me closer. His possessive touch sent a shiver racing down my spine.
I smiled up at him. “Someone’s in a good mood.”
“I have reason to be.” His fingers tightened on my waist, guiding me in time with the music. “And so do you.”
Luca appeared behind me, his presence like a shadow enveloping me in its intensity. His hands brushed my arms, trailing fire in their wake. “Are you trying to make a scene?” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of my ear.
“Maybe,” I said breathlessly, leaning back against him. The weight of him, the solidness, was grounding even as it sent my pulse racing.
