Page 30 of The King of Hearts (The Raven Group #1)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

HIM

T he first time I saw Savina and knew that she was mine, it wasn’t a decision I made.

It was something that already existed well before either of us was born.

It was a soul recognizing its match. A puzzle piece falling into place to complete a whole picture.

An alignment that made something perfect.

It wasn’t due to an epiphany I had, and she wasn’t someone I simply wanted. It was an undeniable fact that no force on earth could change. She was a vital part of me that I didn’t realize I was missing until I saw her.

I don’t believe in destiny or fate or some cosmic bullshit. There is no divine intervention that brings people into each other’s orbits. Some things are just meant to be. However they came into existence, their course is set and there is no changing that path.

Savina is that for me.

From the moment Alexander’s sperm wiggled its way into Caroline’s fertile egg and planted itself in her womb, Savina’s future became my own. There was never an alternative, will never be an alternative.

If she wasn’t mine, then she was no one’s. If she wasn’t mine, then she wouldn’t have existed.

It was six months after I brought my mother back to the island to the home I grew up in.

I stepped into the only coffee shop on Hollow’s Reef and noticed her right away.

She was with Tomas and Emersyn in one of the corner booths.

Due to my extremely cautious nature, especially when it comes to exposing my mother to unknowns, before I moved us here, I did research on every person residing on the island, so I knew exactly who the trio were.

Savina Rivers was the youngest child and only daughter of Alexander and Caroline Rivers.

She was a senior in high school and was set to graduate in a couple of months.

She was already well on her way to earning an associate’s degree in creative art through AP classes and had no plans to continue on to a higher degree.

She wanted to work for her dad in The Raven Group, which she already had a role in.

The thing about that day is Savina was only seventeen.

Seventeen, eight months, and twenty-six days to be exact.

Too young to garner the attention of a twenty-seven-year-old.

I knew she was mine. There was never the option of denying that fact, but I ignored the sudden impulse to claim her.

I locked down and slammed the door shut on any impure thoughts that may have developed in my head before they even had the chance to form.

Too young. Too young. She was fucking too goddamn young.

So I simply watched her. Not by nefarious means.

I didn’t seek her out or monitor her every move.

I didn’t plant recording devices or cameras in her house or every place she visited.

I didn’t put a tracking device in her car or break into her room at night to watch her sleep.

I didn’t plant a mole in the Rivers’ household or put a GPS tracker on her person.

The watching was innocent, and it was only when I coincidentally saw her in town on occasion.

For three months and one week, I observed her like a normal man would when he comes across a beautiful young woman.

I used those three months to plot. To devise a flawless plan to ensure her future lined directly with mine.

I set shit into motion and sat back to watch as each piece quickly fell into place.

I gave it one day after her eighteenth birthday before I unleashed the beast in my mind and let him have free rein.

That was the first night I disengaged the alarm on the Rivers’ estate and snuck into her bedroom via the balcony doors.

I didn’t touch her, though. I waited six additional months before I allowed myself that luxury.

Back in the present, I look down at the screen on my computer and watch my future as she smooths lotion on her arms and shoulders.

I’ve been observing her for an hour, my cock having been hard as fucking stone just as long.

This woman has a direct line to my dick.

Anytime I’m in her vicinity, watch her through my screen, get a hint of her scent, or even fucking think about her, my cock turns to granite.

I have no control over it, and I hate not having control over my body.

As a boy, I had no control, thanks to my aunt. She took it from me, and it left me powerless. I’m the fucked-up mess I am today because of that bitch.

But it all worked out. I have no qualms with who I am or what I’ve done. I feel comfortable in my skin, and I have no regrets.

Savina leaves her bathroom, and I pull up one of the feeds that’s in her bedroom.

It’s the one in the far corner that has a perfect view of her canopy bed.

She sits on the side of her bed and opens her bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of pills.

It’s the vitamins she takes every night.

Actual vitamins this time, not the ones I sometimes slip in their place when I visit her at night and play with her unconscious body.

However, these pills have been changed too.

They contain the same nutrients she believes she’s taking, but with a few extra special ingredients, one in which she doesn’t need anymore.

After two years of waiting, this woman will finally completely be mine, in every fucking way possible.

Once the pill is downed with water, she slides beneath the lavender silk sheets and settles back against the pillows.

She grabs the slim device from her nightstand, presses a button, and the lights in the room go out.

The screen on my computer switches to a green hue as the night vision feature kicks on.

Soon, I won’t have to satisfy myself by watching my Vicious from a camera. I’ll have access to her twenty-four-seven. She’ll finally be in my possession to do with whatever I please. And I’ve got two fucking years of pent-up sexual aggression to take out on her delicious body.

My cell phone rings, and without removing my eyes from my computer, I grab it from my desk. I answer without checking the screen.

“Yes?” I say absently as I watch Savina turn on her side so she’s facing the camera.

The sheet only comes to her waist, so her torso and arms are visible.

She’s wearing the same style of night clothes she wears every night.

A cami with thin straps that stops just above the strings of her thongs on her hips.

This time it’s a soft yellow that complements her tanned skin.

“West,” comes the familiar voice on the line.

“Emo. It’s been a while.”

Emo isn’t his real name. It was one he gave himself when he was a child, because he doesn’t feel emotions like most people do.

The ability was beaten and raped out of him.

My childhood was shit, but Emo and his brothers’ was a pure fucking nightmare that started the day they were born and ended in their early teens when the town full of perverted freaks was raided. At least mine only lasted a few years.

He grunts something that I don’t really hear because my attention is still on my laptop, and then follows it with, “I have something you’ll be interested in.”

The muscles in my shoulders tense, and I sit up straighter in my chair. “What do you have?”

Emo and I met years ago when we attended the same university.

He was a few years ahead of me. He was quiet and kept to himself, which was exactly what I did.

I had no desire to socialize or interact with anyone.

I was there to learn, not party or become besties with the rich assholes or fake bitches that attended.

Late one night, I was walking back to my apartment when I heard muffled grunts come from a dark alleyway.

I investigated. Not because I wanted to save whoever was obviously getting the shit beat out of him.

I honestly didn’t care who the person was or what was being done to him.

And besides, it wasn’t my business. I was merely curious.

When I stepped into the dark alley, I recognized Emo right away.

He had a guy who looked a couple years older than him pinned against the side of a brick building.

His face was beat to hell and back, and one of his arms hung uselessly at his side, like it was broken.

With his good hand, the guy was yanking at the arm Emo had pressed against his windpipe, but it was like swatting at flies with all the good it was doing him.

I stepped toward them out of the shadows, and that was when Emo noticed me. He didn’t say anything, and neither did I. We just stared at each other. It was like we recognized the darkness that resided in both of us.

Emo tossed the guy to the ground. I had a switchblade in my pocket I had planned to toss to him to use, but it wasn’t needed.

There was an old broken bottle nearby that he utilized.

The bottle was laying on its side, and it was broken down the middle with the jagged pieces facing up.

I stood there with my hands in my pockets as Emo straddled the guy’s back and yanked his head up by his hair and slid the bottle directly under his face.

To give the guy credit, he fought the best he could with the little strength he had left.

He even tried using his broken arm, but that went on the wayside when he bit out a yell of pain.