Page 33 of Velvet Cruelty

“I… Yes.”

“Wonderful. It’s not every day you meet an American girl who speaks Italian. Sei mai stata in Italia?” Have you been to Italy?

I hesitate. Zia Teresa and I only spoke Italian when my mom was away and it’s easier to understand what people are saying than talk.

“No… Non songa mai stata in Italia,” I venture.

He nods. “Almost. Non sono mai stata.”

“Sorry,” I whisper. “My Zia Teresa emigrated in the ’60s and never learned modern Italian. She speaks dialect. So do I, I guess.”

“I see.” Eli shifts closer and I smell lavender cologne, fresh and achingly lovely. I wish I could have a shower.

“I have something for you, Miss Whitehall,” he says.

“A change of clothes?”

He laughs. “Depending on how you receive my proposal, yes. And I might rethink my offer of yesterday and let you come upstairs. Would you like to sleep in a nice four-poster bed in a room with windows?”

The thought of escaping the cage makes my heart lift. “What would you like to give me?”

He looks me up and down. “All kinds of things, bella.”

My cheeks burn. I’m always doing this, setting people up to make jokes at my expense. In middle school, Ryan Wingfield said, ‘If I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?’ and I said yes. Everyone died laughing at me.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “I’m kind of clueless.”

“You’re adorable. Here.” Eli pulls something from his suit pocket. A small red apple. He holds it out to me. “Eat.”

I take the apple as fast as I can without snatching. I already feel my teeth sinking into the skin between my teeth, the sweet juice crushing onto my tongue. But when the apple touches my lips, I pause. What if it’s poisoned? I lower it to my lap.

Eli raises a brow. “You’re not hungry?”

“I… Not right now.”

“You’re refusing me?”

My mouth goes dry. It’s stupid to decline something from this man, even if it’s poison. I give him my best silly smile. “Eating in front of people makes me nervous.”

“Ah.” A small smile curves his beautiful mouth. He takes my chin in his hand and my stomach turns over. “Would you like a gift, bella?”

“What about the apple?”

“That was a treat. This…” He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a necklace. “…is a gift.”

It’s a short collar of diamonds set with fiery red stones. Even in the lamplight, it glitters like pirate treasure.

“It’s so beautiful! Are they garnets?”

Eli brushes a finger over the center stone. “Rubies. My mother’s family, the Vellutos, have a passion for rubies.”

“Oh.”

“This…” He sways the necklace so that it shimmers. “…belonged to my mama. When she passed, it became mine.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He frowns. “You’re sorry?”

---