Like the whore you are

**Ivery Clark POV** 

“Alrigo please…” I cried, my voice catching in my throat. He didn’t even pause, his stride as purposeful and unyielding as his grip on my wrist. 

My resistance was as futile as trying to stop a raging storm, but I couldn’t just let him pull me into whatever twisted game he had planned.

The grand doors opened, revealing an interior that was both seductive and dangerous. 

Velvet drapes hung like shrouds, gold-trimmed furnishings gleamed under dim amber lights, and dark polished wood glistened with an almost sinister richness. 

The room was filled with wealthy men in tailored suits and women draped in silk, their laughter and whispered conversations carrying an undercurrent of something darker.

My stomach sank. This wasn’t just a bar. This was his bar—a sanctuary for the powerful and untouchable. comparison to the man standing next to me.

“Keep your head high, little Ivery,” Alrigo muttered darkly, his voice barely audible over the music. “I don’t like weak displays.”

But I wasn’t weak—I was furious. Furious and humiliated, dragged here like a disobedient child, paraded in front of strangers. 

Yet the fear prickling at the base of my spine wouldn’t let me yank my hand free. I knew better than to challenge him publicly. Alrigo thrived on control, and he was making a spectacle of me.

“Alrigo…!” I hissed, pulling back even though I knew it was pointless.

When we reached a nondescript door, he shoved it open with one hand, revealing a room bustling with staff. 

Bartenders polished glasses, waitresses adjusted their tight uniforms, and managers barked orders. The warm scent of spilled liquor and faint hints of sweat filled the air.

Everyone stopped what they were doing when they saw us, their gazes darting from me to Alrigo with a mix of curiosity and unease.

“Everyone,” Alrigo’s commanding voice cut through the silence, “meet your newest member.”

The room went silent, save for the faint clink of a dropped glass. My stomach sank as dozens of eyes bore into me. Whispers erupted around the room, some amused, others skeptical.

“This girl,” he said, his hand still on my arm like I was a prize he owned, “will be working here from now on. No exceptions, no complaints. She’s here to pay off what she owes.”

A ripple of confusion and murmurs passed through the room. I felt my face flush as dozens of eyes raked over me.

“I won’t—!” I started, but Alrigo turned to me with a chilling smirk, his dark eyes gleaming.

“Don’t act like a brat now, *Ivery*,” he said, his tone cutting and sharp. “You wanted to get out of that room so badly, didn’t you? Thought you could push me, test my patience. Well, congratulations. You got what you wanted.”

“Your version of freedom. You didn’t like it when I went easy on you, so let me show you how things really work in my world.”

He stepped back and addressed the room again. “Start her with the usual—cleaning tables, scrubbing floors, trash duty. And if she steps out of line, make sure she knows there are consequences.”

The humiliation rolled through me like a tidal wave, but before I could say another word, Alrigo turned to one of the female staff members.

“Take her to change,” he commanded, gesturing to a door on the far side. “She can’t work in *that*. Make her change and bring her to my cabin.”

The woman hesitated before approaching, handing me a hanger with what could barely be called a uniform. My heart sank when I saw it—a skintight, low-cut dress that barely reached mid-thigh.

“I’m not wearing this,” I said, my voice low and furious as I turned back to him.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into that cruel, “Oh, you will,” he drawled. “Because you’ll act on this freedom you claimed you wanted. Now stop wasting everyone’s time and go.”

“Unless, of course,” he continued, his voice dangerously soft, “you’d rather I drag you out there as is and let everyone know exactly who you belong to.”

The staff watched silently, and the weight of their stares pressed on me like a boulder. My throat tightened as the choice was ripped from me, leaving me drowning in his domination. 

With trembling hands, I clutched the uniform and allowed the woman to guide me toward the changing room, Alrigo’s mocking smirk burning into my back.

The uniform—if it could even be called that—clung to me like a second skin, the dark fabric scandalously short and tailored to fit far too snugly. I felt exposed, degraded, like a relic of my past I had fought to bury.

This is exactly what Alrigo wanted. My humiliation was his victory. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, trying to steady my trembling hands. 

When I walked out of the dress room, Alrigo’s men appeared, gesturing with a jerk of his head. “Move. The boss is waiting.”

As I walked through the dim hallway, my breaths quickened, each step echoing loudly in the emptiness. 

The uniform clung to me in the most oppressive way, dragging me back to that memory of that night. The horrible auction that had happened. I was literally panicking right now.

*No. Not again.*

When we finally reached Alrigo’s cabin, the man opened the door and motioned for me to go inside. And there he was Alrigo Valerie King.

Alrigo’s eyes raked over me, starting at my trembling legs, dragging up the dress that barely covered anything, lingering for far too long at my face. 

His smirk was slow and deliberate, curling at the corners of his mouth like he had won some twisted game.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice like velvet dipped in poison. “You’ve finally learned how to take orders, haven’t you?”

I tried to keep my face blank, tried not to flinch under the weight of his scrutiny, but it was useless. The panic surged, sharp and overwhelming, threatening to collapse the flimsy control I had left..

“I—I don’t want to do this,” I stammered, hating the quiver in my voice. “Please, Alrigo.”

“Why? Don't you like it? You wanted to walk freely out of that ‘cage’ of mine, didn't it?”

“You thought you could walk out of my world without consequence. Thought I’d forget the debts you owe me, the choices you made.” His lips curled into a cruel sneer. “But I’m giving you what you deserve. A chance to *earn* your freedom.”

I flinched as he moved closer, his hand brushing deliberately over my curves. “The dress…it suits you. 

“You look…” He paused, letting the insult drip slowly from his mouth. “Exactly like a *whore*. Isn’t that what you’ve always been good at, Ivery? Isn’t that why you’re here—to be used however I see fit?”

The words cut into me like a blade, sharp and deliberate. My breaths grew shallow, panic clawing at my throat as flashes of the auction swam behind my eyes—the sneers, the hands, the cold detachment of being reduced to nothing.

“Stop,” I choked out, my voice trembling.

“Don’t—”

He released me abruptly, his laughter like poison filling the room. “Oh, but we’re only getting started.” 

He tilted his head, a sinister smirk tugging, 

"Maybe I should let Rowan see you like this. Wouldn't he be proud? Seeing what her *dear* sister has reduced to? Hmm?” 

My stomach twisted violently at the mention of my brother. My jaw tightened, but the lump in my throat refused to go away. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Alrigo shot back, his voice low and cutting. “You forget, Ivery, I *own* you. You’re mine to humiliate, degrade, and break as I see fit. Rowan? He’s just as much a tool in this as you are. So maybe it’s time you start acting like the asset you are instead of pretending you’re above any of this.”

I couldn’t stop the tears this time, each one falling like a small betrayal of the control I was desperately trying to cling to. 

But Alrigo didn’t look away. If anything, my vulnerability only seemed to deepen the sick satisfaction in his stare.

“Did you think I yearn for you, Ivery? I'm desperate to keep you despite what you did to me? Now this is me showing you just how little you mean in my world.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks in silent betrayal, and my voice cracked under the weight of my breaking pride.

“Alrigo, please,” I whispered, my words barely more than a broken gasp. “Why can't you have some mercy?” 

There was no warmth, no flicker of softness, nothing to suggest that my pleading had even touched him.

“You expect mercy? Mercy is a currency I do not trade in. Do you know why?” He crouched again, his eyes alight with a fire so lethal it felt as if the very air would burn around him. “Because mercy leads to weakness, and weakness is fatal in my world. Predators don’t apologize for their teeth, nor do they spare those who come for their throats.”

“Now get ready, my beautiful baby girl.”