Page 43 of Cruel Alpha: Season One

He leans forward, resting both elbows on the desk as he stares. “You know what? It’s just as well that you’re not curious. After all, it’d be highly inappropriate to mention such a place in the presence of a lady.”

And that does it. I’ve had about as much of this asshole as I can stand, and he roars another of those infuriating laughs when I turn on my heels and head toward the door.

“The Wet Bar,” he yells out, and I don’t think he’s at all surprised when I stop cold in my tracks.

The Wet Bar is a little-known gentleman’s club, a well-kept secret among the elite. Those who frequent the spot pay a hefty membership fee for a reason. Because the club’s owner, and the staff, are notoriously discreet.

All so the upper crust of Clan Centauri society can do their dirt, and then look their friends and family in the eyes afterward, confident that their secrets are tightly locked down.

My blood is boiling, and thank the gods Dimitri can’t see my face, because I’m certain it’s blazing red by this point. Just at the thought of Caspian being seen in a place like that. It’s not onlyhisname and reputation on the line. It’s mine as well.

My mind flashes back to his grand declaration at the Starlight and Silk Soiree. He made it a point to uplift me in the eyes of our people, lying through his teeth when he claimed to value me. An act this vile doesn’t exactly support that statement. If I were valued, he wouldn’t have even considered going anywherenearThe Wet Bar. Because he’d understand how that might compromise the foundation of respect he’s attempted to lay for me among our people.

I’m not sure how, but my feet are moving again. Despite being so deeply wounded that I’d swear the sting in my eyes could very well mean there are tears on the way.

“Leaving so soon?” Dimitri calls out, but I don’t stop this time.

He isn’t laughing now, but I’m not fooled. He’s not a fan of Caspian selecting me, which means my pain is sheer entertainment for him. A fact made clear when he speaks again, taunting me further.

“You’re free to go, but… that place isn’t easy to find,” he says. “So, if you’re planning to drop in and pay my brother a visit, you’ll need this.”

I continue walking, but only make it a few steps before morbid curiosity stalls me again. I stand there for several moments, staring at the doorway I should have already passed through, but I can’t. Instead, I turn to face Dimitri, staring at the small piece of paper in his hand as I make my way toward the desk.

He smiles when I snatch the note from between his fingertips. This is no act of kindness on his part, but hehasprovided me with what I need tonight.

Something I couldn’t have acquired on my own, something I wouldn’t be able to silence my frustration without, even if I may soon regret it.

An address.

17

Seeing Red

Annalise

There have beenseveral discoveries made tonight. Among them is the fact that Dimitri’s handwriting is absolute shit. As I stand in the middle of a dark alley, trying to determine whether the third number in the address I was given is a five or a six, a light drizzle has turned into a downpour.

I tuck the small slip of paper into the pocket of my poncho to keep the ink from smudging, then I throw caution to the wind. Best case scenario? I walk into this cesspool and discover that Caspian was never here. Worst case? This is a setup andDimitri’s arranged for a gang of wolves to tear me limb from limb.

Somewhere in the middle of this sliding scale, is finding out Dimitri told me the truth, accepting that Caspian actually frequents this place. Which, based on how my stomach’s twisted in knots, will probably gut me.

There’s no sound. I’d expect a raunchy sex club to atleasthave a rumble of bass, or a rogue scream escaping through the walls, but there’s nothing. Just a brick, windowless building void of any signage. If discreet is the vibe The Wet Bar is going for, mission accomplished.

I grip the metal handle and rainwater coats my palm. To my surprise, it pulls right open, and when the door closes behind me, my wolf steps up to give me sight in the dark hallway. Heart pounding, I continue forward, twisting knobs and peering into empty office spaces as I make my way toward the second heavy door at the end.

A quivering breath leaves my mouth, and I’m starting to revisit thatDimitri’s-setting-me-uptheory. If a person were to get jumped and beaten to death, this would certainly be the kind of place to do it.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pull the next door open and only then does sound seep up from the bottom of a staircase. One as long and dark as the hallway I just passed through.

“Fuck my life. And fuck Dimitri.” I whisper those words to myself as I take a step, holding the wall, feeling how it pulses in rhythm against my palm.

At the foot of the stairs, there’s another corridor, a right turn, more walking. By now, the music has grown louder, and the glow of red light illuminates yet another set of double doors. My guess is, I’ve found it—The Wet Bar.

Squaring my shoulders, I lower the hood of my poncho, deciding at the last second to take it off completely, dropping itoff to the side. I’m not sure what people wear to these kinds of places, but when Dimitri taunted me with the potential details of Caspian’s whereabouts, I didn’t give much thought to changing. I simply rang for a car, and then ended up here.

A sudden rush of insecurity has me snatching the elastic band from my ponytail, pushing my hair in front of my shoulders when it falls free. My hope is that this small detailmightmake it a bit less obvious I was ready to read myself to bed before deciding to make this trek. Another deep breath, and I’ve done all I can, so I grip the handles of both doors.

Loud music thunders out and the red light glows even brighter, causing me to squint after having just walked through the dark hallways of fucking purgatory to get here. But as I take a step, a heavy hand slams to my chest, and the sound of a deep booming voice follows.

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