Page 70 of Velvet Cruelty

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“You’ll pay for that, Bassilotta,” Adriano says quietly.

I glare at him. “Do not threaten Bobby in front of me.”

“Fuck this.” Adriano gets to his feet, looking as unsteady as I feel.

“You leave, you can’t come back,” I remind him.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s done. No one wins.”

January looks up at Adriano. “Sorry, Mr. Rossi.”

He gives her a look of utter loathing. “Remember what I told you, Bambi.”

I frown. “Bambi?”

Adriano turns his crazy green eyes on me. “The dead deer.”

“Bambi’s mom dies, you idiot,” Doc mutters but his gaze is still locked on January. “How are you doing this, Tits?”

She smiles at him. “Maybe your drug isn’t very good?”

I almost laugh but catch myself at the last second. Bobby can’t hold back, he doubles over, cackling. Adriano leaves, his tread heavy even on the carpet. Doc stares mutinously into space. I know that mood, but before I can say anything, Doc paces to the nearby wall and puts his fist through it, plaster dust scattering the carpet. He storms out of the room slamming the door behind him.

“Idiot,” I mutter, though I’m relieved he didn’t take a swing at Bobby or throw one of the paintings in the fire.

“Does this mean I’ve won?” January’s voice is small but steady.

Bobby looks at her and I see him realize he’ll never get to touch her.

“Go,” I tell him. “I’ll deal with the girl. Get out of here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I’ll escort her to the east wing. Go.”

He leaves the room as quickly as he can without running. Probably to fuck his fist somewhere.

January’s fight with the Orchard has drained her. Curled up on the carpet, she seems smaller and even more delicate.

“The competition is over,” I tell her. “You keep your virginity.”

Her mouth puckers like a little rosebud. “Oh… I’m sorry, I guess.”

“So am I, bella. I’ve never been a good loser. Come here a second. Sit with me.”

She doesn’t move. I roll my eyes. “I’m a man of my word. I won’t touch you. Sit on Doc and Bobby’s couch, if you like.”

She still looks nervous, but she does as she’s told, wrapping herself into a ball on the leather. I can smell the warm heaven of her cunt. I want to peel off her soaked panties, stuff them in her mouth then shove my cock deep inside her.

Instead, I head for the bar. If anything calls for a martini, it’s this evening. I pour gin into the cocktail shaker. “Doc is too proud to ask, bella, so I will. How did you resist the Orchard?”

“Um, I think ballet, maybe. Learning how to hold uncomfortable positions for a really long time.”

So, Parker is to blame for all of this. Fucking asshole. I remember the video recording. I’ll have to make sure Bobby deletes the footage. I never want to relive this experience.

“Mr. Morelli…?”

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