Page 35 of Their Reckless Thief
She arched an eyebrow. “If you want to stay alive, you’re going to need more than your looks, honey. So, what are you good at? Don’t bullshit me. And don’t lie. We’ve got enough magic at our disposal to drag the truth out of you if needed.”
A shiver ran down my spine, but I forced myself to keep my composure. “I’m good with tech. I can hack, crack codes, you name it. I also know how to read people, read situations. And sometimes...” I hesitated, weighing whether or not to mention it to her. Oh, what the hell. I’d already told Vincenzo about it. “Sometimes, I get visions.”
Camilla’s bright green eyes gleamed with interest. “Visions? Like psychic shit?”
I nodded. “Something like that. They’re not always accurate,” I added quickly. “Case in point.” I gestured around me, indicating the luxurious prison I’d found myself in.
She smiled again, and this time it had some warmth to it. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” She circled me slowly, eyes narrowed as if I were some puzzle she was trying to figure out. “A tech genius with a psychic twist. No wonder you’ve been causing trouble for people like us.”
I clenched my jaw.
She stopped in front of me, her face hardening slightly. “You’re young, too. Not much older than me, I bet.”
I shrugged. “I’m twenty-five. You?”
“Twenty-three. How long have you been doing this? Running jobs, breaking into places you shouldn’t?”
“Long enough,” I muttered.
“For what it’s worth, I get it. I know what it’s like to be trapped, to need an out.” Her eyes softened for only a second, but it was enough for me to notice. “You should appreciate the protection you’re under now. Vincenzo is not someone anyone wants to cross, but he’ll take care of you… if you prove yourself useful to him.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that impression,” I said dryly.
Camilla walked to the window and stared out of it. “I come from a long line of shifters. Our people have always been on the outskirts of the mafia… just dangerous enough to be included in some deals, yet not considered powerful enough to earn protection. Years ago, my father aided Vincenzo when he didn’t have to. In return for his loyalty, Vincenzo asked what he could do to repay my dad. All he asked was that Vincenzo would take me under his protection. So, Vincenzo gave me a job and a place to live.” She turned back to me. “It’s hard to be a woman in The Below without the protection of someone with power. I’m sure you’ve heard about the women disappearing.”
“I have.”
Camilla’s smile faded into something more serious. “Don’t fuck this up, Celeste. You’re in deep now, and trust me, there are worse things than working for Vincenzo Moretti. Besides, if you refuse, he will kill you without so much as a blink of an eye. You’ve seen and heard too much.” She turned on her heel, heading for the door. “I’ll leave you to think about it. Get some rest. You’ll need it.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and I sank onto the edge of the bed. Camilla had clearly made her peace with this world, but me? I didn’t enjoy being a prisoner. I had been shackled my entire life, and I wasn’t keen on adding more.
The silence of the room closed in on me, like a noose around my neck. Every breath felt tighter, every second longer, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand being trapped like this, like some fucking pawn in a game I never asked to play. I stood, a familiar panic tightening my chest, a thousand screaming thoughts reverberating through my head.
I hated all of it. Every fucking second.
I ripped the sheets and blankets off the bed, sending pillows flying across the room. My chest heaved, my pulse racing like a trapped animal’s. I yanked open the drawers, throwing the clothes onto the floor. I tore through everything in that room—emptying the wardrobe, pulling apart the nightstand, even flipping the lamp onto the floor for good measure. Nothing. Nothing that could help me.
I punched the wall, then pounded my fists against the wall, barely feeling the sting in my knuckles. Hot, angry tears blurred my vision.
I couldn’t do this again.
I couldn’t be another tool for yet another powerful man.
I sank to the floor, panicked sobs racking my body. That thought from earlier returned. I tried to ignore it, tried to shove it down deep to a place where I wouldn’t notice it, but it refused to go away.
PerhapsIshould just end it.
Maybe that was the only way to take myself out of the equation. Take away Vincenzo Moretti’s new tool before he can use it. When Vincenzo had looked at me before, I could almost see conflict in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do to me. He had so much external pressure to deal with. Tainteddrugs. Women being abducted from his territory. I was an easy target.
What would keep him from using me as an outlet to release all his pent-up rage? He was a man who liked to be in control, and right now, he was so fucking out of control. The Shadow had him by the balls, and people would soon notice.
And I was the dumbass human who had dared to break into his precious mansion. The one who’d overheard a top-secret meeting. Why wouldn’t he make an example out of me?
Sure, I had a choice: become his bitch or die.
I didn’t know if I could survive being someone else’s tool again. The entire reason I’d risked coming here in the first place was to get a way out of Roberto’s clutches. And that chance had dissolved along with any semblance of control I’d had over my own life.
I glanced around the room, looking for anything sharp or strong enough to put an end to my miserable existence. Nothing. Not a damn thing. Even the lamp I’d smashed was made of porcelain. The shards were too dull to cause the type of damage I needed. The room was too perfect, too sterile. Designed that way on purpose, no doubt.
