Not that I believe it’s true, anyway.
How could Valentine know that Dante loves me when I don’t even know that?
But if he thinks Dante loves me, maybe I’ll be able to use that to my advantage in some way. It’s worth keeping in mind, at the very least.
Valentine turns and walks back to the bed, his hand clutched around something.
“Come here,” he says, pointing to the edge of the bed.
I do a he says, though my arms tremble as I push myself up onto my knees and crawl across the mattress to him. I sit up on my knees at the edge of the bed, my hands folded in my lap, and my eyes downcast.
Even this is humiliating, but I don’t know what else I can do.
With Dante, Seven, and Luci, my disobedience had been met with frustration, but never violence. At least, not true violence, not in the way Valentine has tormented me.
Where The Devils Mafia’s threats had been just that, threats. Valentine’s threats have a deadly weight to them, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ve been misled by my own fear. What if there’s more to them, more to all of this, than I’ve allowed myself to believe?
I groan inwardly as I once again force these thoughts from my mind.
Remember, Evelyn, you’re not here to make excuses for them. You’re here to survive, to escape, and to, hopefully, bring these monsters down once and for all.
Right. If they mean any good to come out of all this, if they genuinely care for me at all, then they’ll have to be the ones to prove it. That’s not my job, and it never will be.
“Look at me,” Valentine growls, and I slowly lift my eyes to meet his. He reaches out to catch a loose strand of my bleached hair between his fingers. “Is this your natural color?”
“No,” I answer, barely able to stop myself from snorting at the absurdity of the question.
“Hmm,” he says, dropping the strand of hair as if it’s suddenly transformed into a dead worm. “We’ll have to fix that.”
“Fix it?”
He ignores my question as he opens his other hand to reveal a black choker unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help the way my eyes widen at the sight of it. The necklace is made up of hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny black diamonds that sparkle with even the slightest movement.
“You’re to wear this at all times. Do not try to remove it, understood?”
I nod without thinking, my mind still trying to understand how anything could be this glittery outside of those special jewelry store lights.
“It’s stunning,” I whisper, instantly hating myself for speaking this thought out loud. The last thing I want him to think is that I can be won over by his material possessions, however beautiful they may be.
“Turn around.” Again, I obey. Valentine moves my hair out of the way and over one shoulder, his fingers trailing across my skin, before slipping the choker around my neck. He leans down just as he fastens the necklace. “This marks you as mine.”
“No, I—”
As soon as the necklace is fixed around my throat, it constricts. I gasp in fear as I reach for it, attempting to pull it away from my neck. Almost instantly the icy points of the diamonds start to feel as if they’re burrowing into my skin, sending shockwaves of electricity racing through my body.
The next thing I know, I’ve crumpled forward onto the bed, my muscles twitching but unable to move.
“I told you not to try to remove it,” Valentine whispers, his body covering me as he plants his hands on either side of my head, his breath rushing past my ear.
“I can’t move,” I mumble, barely managing to get the words past my lips.
“Of course, you can’t,” he says, straightening as he smooths out the non-existent wrinkles in his jacket. “You’re paralyzed.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry, it’s only temporary,” Valentine says, walking over to a mirror to preen. “The effects should wear off in about an hour or so … this time. The bathroom is through that door. Clean yourself up once you can move. I’ll have a fresh outfit sent up that you’re to wear for me tonight. I suggest you make yourself presentable.”
“And if I don’t?”