The King of Hearts

The King of Hearts

“You’re mine, vicious. Breathe it. Live it. Sear it into your f*cking soul.”

Being mine isn’t a choice. It’s an irrefutable fact. Not born of fate, or destiny, or some cosmic bullshit. There is no divine intervention that makes it so. It just simply is.
I don’t like it when other men touch what’s mine. It makes me see red.
Those people who have the audacity to touch my vicious little Savina? I erase them and carve out their hearts. I send those souvenirs to her as a warning to prove just how fucking serious I am when it ...