“Only with you, Gabriella.” Taking the steps between us, I lean down and place my lips on her forehead. I breathe her in. Her natural sweetness with a hint of vanilla and cherries still lingers after showering at my home. “Only with you.”
20
King
My pretty girl. My poor, trusting pretty girl.
Because souls like hers aren’t meant for this world. No. They should only exist in a reality where they’re protected—cherished—and yet, most are destroyed before they’ve had the chance to shine.
To grow and love. To relish in their freedom.
To discover what makes them different from everyone in the crowd, but then again, there’s a beautiful lesson to be learned about true emotions. Because honest and pure don’t exist, but loyalty and death are two things that will never fail you.
Someone who is loyal will never leave your side in sickness and in health. For richer or in your time of destitution.
And it’s because I love her with a sickness that I do what I do. What I must.
My loyalty will break Gabriella and then put her back together again.
She will never leave me. Not again. Not by choice or circumstance.
Moreover, no amount of time walking this earth will ever erase how I feel about the whimpering woman before me, thrashing in her bed as she dreams of me. Of the darkness I control, and she will join, but only after I’ve broken her down to nothing. When I’ve stripped her of every ounce of innocence and unleash the demoness that’s crawling beneath her soft, fragrant skin.
“I’m here, Gabriella.” At my words, a whimper passes through her plump lips, her chest arching slightly off the bed before settling back down. Her legs, though, kick off the bedsheet and I catch a glimpse of the nearly bare pussy between her thighs. The shine of slickness that merges with her cherry vanilla scent, creating the perfect ambrosia. “Fuck, pretty girl. How you tempt me.”
My mouth waters at the sight, and my teeth dig into my bottom lip, I want her. Yearn to hold her in my arms again and the time is drawing near, but not yet, and this is all I can take at the moment. To hover above her bed while watching. To lightly run the pad of two fingers up her thighs to her hip bone and then pause long enough to draw in another deep breath.
She’s in the air all around me, her essence pulling me in closer.
“Where are you? Why can’t I see you?” she murmurs in her sleep, head moving from side to side, and I smile. Soon she’ll never have to wonder where I am or what I want as my need will be tattooed on her flesh for every motherfucker to see. “Show yourself, dammit.”
Her impatience is a turn-on.
“Soon.” A promise. A threat. My patience runs thin every single second I don’t have her in my arms. “The world will weep blood before I lay it at your feet. They will all pay for what they’ve done.”
But first, I have a game we are going to play. A scavenger hunt.
I’ll leave my clues, and she will follow.
And for every item found, I’ll gift her the revenge she unknowingly seeks.
Slowly. Methodically. Painfully.
Her enemies, known or not, are mine, and I take care of what belongs to me.
Because my love for her will never be soft or innocent, but it is honest. It’s passionate and cruel to anyone who rises against my pretty girl. So for now, Theodore Astor is useful and brings her comfort, which I’ll allow, but that will only last but so long. I’ll let him watch out for her until it’s time. I’ll let him check the corners of her home—comb through her yard for anything being out of place— while I leave behind traces of my presence that can only be found by her.
Like the one she’s yet to uncover in her closet.
Like the small charm I just added to her bracelet.
Like the black rose I placed atop her mail pile with a note attached while she bathed her dog earlier. The perfect distraction to slip inside and watch for a few minutes, to bring the shirt she left atop an oversized chair to my face and inhale deeply, nearly drowning in her maddening scent. His mischief granted me that moment of reprieve, and I’ll thank him kindly for it in the future.
Moreover, the police never saw me in her yard through the cameras easily bypassed by its own technology when I hacked the system. They have no recollection of the man that’s always near and watching, of the way I hunt with methodical movements while revealing each piece of the puzzle my pretty girl will soon understand.
“Long live the queen.”
21
Gabriella
My phone pings from beside me and I look over at the screen, pausing mid-shadowing. It vibrates and then stops, only to alert me once again that I haven’t read it within a minute. Theodore’s name flashes and my heart skips a literal beat.
There’s something about him that I can’t stop thinking about. An attraction I don’t want to fight off.
For the first time in my life, I want to be selfish and claim something as mine, no matter the cost.
Sliding my finger across the screen, I enter my pin and click on the new message, smiling when I read it.
Be ready by nine. Dress comfortable and to walk. ~Theodore
So bossy.
“I’m not going to give in so easily, Mr. Astor.”
Sorry. Have plans. ~Gabriella
His replies are instant, and my grin widens.
Consider whatever you had planned now cancelled. ~Theodore
You’re mine today. ~Theodore.
Grabbing my now lukewarm coffee, I take a sip and look at my sketch. The outline for my jaguar is done, I’m mimicking a pose from an animal documentary that showed the animal literally fighting off a gator and then dragging him up onto the shore. There’s something about the design that’s bothering me, though, and I think it
