Page 43 of Velvet Cruelty

His hand closes around my throat. “You want me to show you? Take the choice right out of your hands?”

I sense a genuine question and while I have no idea how he could take my choice away, the last thing I want is less choice. I shake my head.

“Fine.” Doc releases my throat and heads for the cage door, pulling his keys from his pocket. “You’ve got three options. You can strip in my clubs, you can eat a bullet, or you can get sold to the Bratva. Know what that is?”

“No.”

He shoves the key in the lock and wrenches it open. “Russian mafia. You’ll earn on your back. Get fucked two dozen times a day. Come on so many strangers’ cocks you won’t walk a block without seeing someone who’s railed you.”

He moves through the cage door and slams the bars between us. My heart shrinks in my chest. Despite everything, I don’t want to be alone again. I put my arms through the cage. “Doc?”

He doesn’t look back. There’s still a card I can play. Maybe the only one I have left. “Who’s Alessia Valente?”

He stops, his whole body tensing. Instantly I know I’ve made a mistake. “Sorry, I didn’t—”

A hand grabs me through the bars, pulling me into the cold metal. The blanket falls to my feet and I’m naked. The point of Doc’s butterfly knife is at my throat.

“How,” he rasps, “the fuck do you know that name?”

I try not to scream. “You said it to Mr. Parker at the cathedral. And your last name’s Valente so I thought Alessia might be your mom or your sister?”

Doc doesn’t move. “You have no idea. None. Because you’re a stupid bitch with no sense. Isn’t that right?”

I nod frantically.

“So let me help you out.” He runs the flat of the blade along my cheek. “Say my sister’s name again and I’ll cut you from ear to ear then fuck you with the knife.”

His eyes are hollow points of light. Headlamps in the dark. You could disappear into them without a trace. He’s telling the truth. He could cut me. He could kill me without a second thought.

“I won’t say it again,” I tell him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He pushes me backward and I fall to the ground, relief blaring through me. Doc’s cheeks hollow and something wet runs down my face.

“Oh my God, you spat on me!”

For a moment we stare at each other and it’s crazy, but I want to laugh. I’m pretty sure Doc does too.

“Sorry,” I say in a rush. “Doc, I mean it. I’m sorry.”

His face works furiously but he turns, storming away without another word.

I lie motionless on the ground. I was right. Alessia is his sister.

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