by Zoey Draven
Madame Allegria hadn’t said two words to her on the ride back to the brothel. They hadn’t been at the party for very long at all. Their hair had taken longer to do than the amount of time they’d spent speaking with the Larchmonts.
But evening was falling over Everton and she knew why Madame Allegria had to get her back. Clients would be coming soon. And Valerie was always the one that greeted them.
Valerie felt like she was in a hushed trance. Still in shock, perhaps. Then again…nothing really shocked her anymore.
She wondered if she should be worried about that. Her mother had always said that life was full of surprises. Hopefully happy ones. Valerie didn’t think those surprises should include a hasty arranged marriage to a stranger. Her mother had married for love. Valerie had always wanted to until she realized just how foolish that ideal was.
“I can’t do it,” Valerie said, though she hadn’t realized that she’d said it out loud until she felt the heat of Madame Allegria’s gaze on the side of her face.
“Yes, you will.”
Her words were final. She didn’t even bother to raise her voice. If anything, the quietness of her aunt’s words were more frightening.
“Why do you want this?” Valerie whispered. “Why are you doing this? You never wanted anyone to know about me.”
“The Larchmonts own half of Everton’s importing business, not to mention their Genesis and Edinton branches. Gabriel is the heir to it all, but his family’s tradition is written so that he can only begin to assume control once he marries. His father wishes to retire to Genesis soon. You should be thanking me.”
A sharp snort escaped Valerie’s nostrils, anger rising within her. There was only a brief moment before her aunt slapped her across the face. Valerie’s cheek stung as her head jerked to the side. She bit her tongue in the process and she tasted her metallic, coppery blood.
This was about money and position and power. Madame Allegria was too old to marry Gabriel herself without raising a few eyebrows among their social circles, on Everton and elsewhere. She couldn’t afford the scrutiny.
The next best thing?
Marrying off her niece, whose life she controlled entirely.
A pawn and nothing more.
Not to mention the fact that Mr. Larchmont probably had no idea that his beautiful wife was visiting a Krave every couple weeks. Madame Allegria had a little black book full of names of the rich and powerful, one she had used before to blackmail members of higher society for her own gains.
She did it sparingly but Valerie knew that the Larchmonts’ wealth was reason enough to use her influence.
“You will marry Gabriel,” her aunt hissed softly, though they were in a driverless car and no one could hear them. Or see them, for that matter.
Ever since Khiva had left, Madame Allegria’s temper had been more mercurial than ever. Her patience was almost non-existent now.
Even still, Valerie whispered, “Or what?”
The smile that crossed her aunt’s face was wide and wrong.
“Or I will whip Dravka every night until you agree.”
Bile rose in Valerie’s throat.
“I may even fuck him every night too. It’s been a while since I had a Krave and I do so love Dravka’s perfect, perfect cock,” she purred.
Like salt in a wound. Madame Allegria knew what it would take to bend Valerie’s will easily. And it was only Dravka that would make her cave in like a house of falling cards.
“Are we in agreement?” her aunt asked as the car slid in front of the brothel, coming to a stop. Valerie looked at the Old World brick façade of the buildings, at the quiet street. Her tone turned mocking. “Or should I call Derek and tell him you’ve got a little case of cold feet?”
Valerie wiped at the tears that spilled down her cheeks, streaking through the thick makeup.
Then realization washed over her calmly. Madame Allegria, for once in her life, actually needed Valerie to be amenable to this. Valerie could ruin it all. All it would take was a public declaration at one of their fancy parties, in front of the high society members, people whose opinions her aunt cared for.
So, her aunt could threaten Dravka all she wanted. But if she laid a finger on Dravka, Valerie would ruin all her plans.
Anger was burning in her gut, a fire that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Slowly, she turned to face her aunt, who looked so much like her mother that sometimes it was sickening. Her mother, who had been Madame Allegria’s polar opposite. Who had been kind and loving and sad. Who had tried to give Valerie everything growing up, though they were poor, though people looked at them like they were nothing. And still, Valerie had been happy.
“You will never touch Dravka again,” Valerie said, her tone soft and careful. “You will never lay another hand on any of them.”
Valerie had managed to surprise her aunt, for once in her life.
Then that fury whipped across her face, red coloring her cheeks. “How dare—”
“In a single moment, I can ruin all your plans. With a word. With a public scene in front of your friends,” Valerie continued, though her voice began to shake. With nerves, with hatred, with fear, she didn’t know. “So let’s come to an agreement, one that benefits the both of us and not just you.”
Madame Allegria was stewing, her eyes narrowed dangerously. She hadn’t expected this, Valerie knew. She hadn’t expected her meek little niece to actually fight back for once.
She was doing this for Dravka. She’d been given an opportunity here—one she would never get again. A bargaining chip. Power.
Valerie wouldn’t waste it.
She’d always known that there was little chance of a future for her and Dravka on Everton. No matter how often she’d dreamed of a happy life with him elsewhere, she knew that that was all it was.
A dream.
A beautiful fantasy that they could both escape to when their reality became too…everything. The reality was that Madame Allegria would never let Valerie go. She was chained to this place, possibly even more so than the Keriv'i males in her brothel. Her aunt would let them go free before her.
The Larchmonts wanted their son to marry—well, at least Derek Larchmont did. A summer wedding would mean it would happen quickly, within the next month. The Programmers would change the seasons soon. The air would heat and warm. The projected sun would linger in the sky longer.
Valerie’s will was not her own. Since her mother’s death, since coming to live on Everton with her last remaining relative in the universe, a monster in a beautiful mask, it had never been her own.
But Dravka and Tavak and Ravu…there was still hope for them. There was still a possibility of a future, away from Everton. A happy future.
One she could help secure them.
“When I marry Gabriel Larchmont,” Valerie said softly, turning her head to look straight into Madame Allegria’s eyes, ignoring her stinging, reddened cheek, “you will close the brothel. Permanently.”
Her aunt’s face didn’t change, though her eyes flashed.
Though it tore at her heart to say it, she continued with, “You will provide passage for Dravka, Tavak, and Ravu off Everton to a neutral colony of their choosing. You will give them the credits that you owe them. All of them. You will never bring another Keriv'i to the New Earth colonies again.”
Valerie had surprised her aunt again. She actually seemed…speechless.
“How would it look?” Valerie continued softly. “For a Larchmont heir to be married into a family who owns an infamous brothel? I don’t know how you got Derek Larchmont to overlook it. But you know how your circles talk.”
Valerie knew how she’d accomplished it, however. Her aunt’s influence reached beyond Everton. Those that knew she was the infamous madame of the Kraves kept it quiet…because they were usually the ones visiting them. They would do anything to keep that knowledge from their husbands, from their tittering friends and acquaintances. There were rumors, of course, but not many believed them.
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After all, Madame Allegria was seen at too many charity events, too many balls and dinners, where she played the part of charming, wealthy philanthropist who was generous with her credits. The brothel wasn’t the only thing she owned. It wasn’t her only source of income. She made more credits on Genesis in a single month, through her investments, than she did during the whole year on Everton.
She didn’t need the brothel. She only wanted it because she was cruel and controlling and it brought her a sick kind of satisfaction. It brought her pleasure. But it was a double-edged sword. Her weakness.
“I could ruin you,” Valerie whispered, holding her gaze, “and you know it.”
Madame Allegria’s eyes narrowed.
“But if you agree to close the brothel,” Valerie continued, swallowing the thick lump in her throat, “I will do whatever you want. I will smile at the Larchmonts. I will kiss their son and dance with him at parties. I will make them like me. I will make pleasant small talk with your friends and pretend that you were my savior after Mom died. I will tell them how much I love you, how great you are. I will never mention anything about the Keriv'i, about this place. I will never mention anything about what you do to them, in the darkness, with your cabinet of whips and chains. I will never mention what you did to me.”
I will never mention that you almost killed me.
Those unspoken words lingered in the air between them, souring the space. Madame Allegria heard them and Valerie swore she saw a flash of regret in her eyes.
But this was her aunt, who never felt anything for anyone unless they could get her something she desired.
“So,” Valerie voiced softly, sitting stiffly in her seat, her heartbeat pounding in her throat, “are we in agreement?”
“I think you are more like me than you care to admit, my vicious little niece.”
In that moment, Valerie almost felt sorry for her aunt.
“I am nothing like you,” she corrected.
Madame Allegria’s jaw set. Her gaze flitted out the window of the driverless car. London Street was empty. Not many ventured to this quiet little area, which was behind the much more enticing and bustling Restaurant Row.
“Very well,” Madame Allegria said. “You see? I am a reasonable woman. Don’t forget that.”
Valerie was wary, watching her closely.
“You’ll close the brothel?” she asked again, needing to hear it from her lips again. “You’ll give them their rightful credits and let them leave?”
“Yes,” Madame Allegria snapped, her gaze whipping across the cold air between them. “Isn’t that what I said?”
Valerie swallowed. She hated that the thick sound echoed around the car’s enclosed space.
“Only after you’re married, however,” Madame Allegria said, casting her a small, cold smile that sent a chill up Valerie’s spine. “On your wedding night, I’ll send them away from Everton. And you will not say anything about it to them. At all.”
Valerie’s lips pressed tight.
With a slight incline of her head, Valerie never looked away from her aunt’s gaze.
“Now, get out. I have to be on Genesis later this evening,” Madame Allegria ordered.
Relief threaded through Valerie’s chest.
“I’ll return in three days,” she continued. “And when I do, we have an engagement dinner to attend. The Larchmonts will be announcing it tomorrow morning.”
Valerie’s hand trembled as she blindly sought the button for the door.
She stumbled out onto empty London Street as evening was descending, her heels twisting underneath her. The car sped off the moment she stepped away.
Her eyes trailed up to the brothel, to one of the small circular windows on the top floor. Dravka’s room.
Her heart felt twisted and it ached terribly in her chest. She wanted to scream. She wanted to scream until her throat was raw, until she couldn’t feel or hear or see anything anymore.
When she lifted her hand to her cheek, she realized she was crying.
Chapter Five
Dravka frowned, pressing closer to the window when he spied Valerie climbing out of the driverless car. At least whom he thought was Valerie.
The car sped away, leaving the human woman standing in the middle of the street, clad in a long pink gown, her hair wild and curled, blowing with a slight breeze. It was too far away to see her face clearly but even from that distance, he could see the defeat in her shoulders, which were shaking slightly.
A rough growl tore from his throat, a restless panic climbing with it.
Something was wrong. Who had she been with? Where had she gone?
Evening was blanketing itself over Everton, a dark hush that slowly creeped over the colony like a fog. The three clients for the night would be arriving in a couple hours. Dravka hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d thought of Valerie, of what Tavak had told him—to cut her loose—and nothing else.
Tensing, he leaned forward, watching as Val began to slowly make her way towards the entrance of the brothel. His ears twitched, hearing the sharp click of heels on the cobblestones, shoes his clients often wore when they came to visit, though Dravka thought the fashions of the New Earth colonies were strange.
Valerie disappeared from view and Dravka stepped back from the window. They were tinted from the outside. She wouldn’t have been able to see him standing there. He wondered if she would come up to the Cluster now that she was back. Dravka wanted her to, if only so he could make sure she was all right.
He strode out to the sitting room. Tavak and Ravu were there, though they weren’t speaking. Ravu inclined his head in a brief nod when he saw him but frowned as he watched Dravka pace slightly. His eyes kept straying to the door, keeping his ears perked for the dull thud of heels on the carpeted hallway outside.
Only it never came and Dravka grew more and more impatient.
Tavak was watching him as well, setting aside the Nu device he’d been reading on. He kept up with the universe’s news. It was what he did most evenings before meeting with clients.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tavak asked quietly.
“Nothing,” Dravka bit out before going to the door himself and swinging it open.
His head craned out but the hallway was empty. The brothel beyond it was completely silent, though at that time, he usually heard Valerie speaking on the phone, ordering food from Restaurant Row just in case their clients preferred to eat when they arrived.
“I’m going to check on Valerie,” Dravka announced.
“Why?” Ravu asked, but his question faded as Dravka strode from the Cluster.
It was a risk. If Madame Allegria happened to be there and found him wandering the halls, punishment would surely follow. But Dravka didn’t care. Something was wrong. Valerie was upset about something and Dravka intended to find out what.
He navigated his way from the only hallway that led to the Cluster and jogged down four flights of winding stairs until he reached the lobby. A beautiful, glimmering chandelier revealed that Valerie wasn’t present in her usual place behind the mahogany desk. The lobby was empty and echoing.
Dravka frowned and his gaze turned to the single door to the right of the lobby. He strode over to it, his gut churning just looking at it. He tried the handle and it swung open, revealing a darkened stairwell that led to the basement.
He blew out a rough breath through his nostrils and descended quickly, anger and unease mingling within him. The fact that Madame Allegria made Valerie live down here…right next to the room where she—
Veki. No, he wouldn’t think of it now.
When he reached the bottom of the steps, he only kept his gaze on the door at the end of the short hallway. Underneath it, he saw a crack of light peeking through.
He knocked shortly, once, before opening the door.
“Val—”
Her rough, surprised inhale met him first as his eyes adjusted to the light. Then he swallowed, thick, a muscle in his jaw jumping when he saw she
was dressing.
She was facing a small wardrobe, clad in nothing but the underwear human females wore to conceal their sex. His gaze caught on her breasts, unbound, and exposed.
Lust and desire and longing and guilt hit him hard, all at once, making his mind spin as his palm squeezed the handle of the door. Her breasts were small but full, her nipples taut and pebbled. Her belly was smooth, leading to slim hips. The band of her underwear was white, a mesh-like material covering her there.
Only a few candles were lit inside the small room and the warm glow bounced off her skin as she clamored for the pink dress pooled at her feet, lifting it to cover her nude front.
“What—” she gasped, “what are you doing down here?”
Dravka, for more than a brief moment, couldn’t seem to make his tongue work. Though he’d seen countless human women naked, through he’d been intimately acquainted with their bodies, never had he been rendered speechless.
And Valerie wasn’t even fully naked.
“Vauk,” he rasped, his eyes darting to her own. “I—”
She swung so that her back was to him, hurrying to slip into a bra that she’d been in the process of putting on.
And all the blood seemed to drain from his body. Without realizing it, Dravka stepped into the small room. It was small enough, smaller than his own bedroom, that he only had to take a few steps until he was standing behind her.
Valerie froze when his fingers reached forward to touch the scars across her back.
He hadn’t seen her back in almost four years. He’d last seen it when it had been bloodied and whipped. Khiva had found her after Madame Allegria left her, but it had been Dravka that had tended to most of her wounds.
Familiar fury and hatred and regret swarmed him. Valerie shivered under his touch, meeting his gaze over her shoulder briefly before she turned and hurriedly finished dressing.
Dravka’s hand fell away but there was a thick tension in the small room, the only sound being that of Valerie frantically dressing.
