Page 52 of Royal Doll

Pretzels.

They’re freshly made, so worth the carbs for her. Olivia isn’t the kind of girl to count calories closely, despite being a dancer, but she only eats fast food if it’s extra delicious.

I’m deeply satisfied to watch her queue in front of the pretzel stand.

My watch beeps, which means it’s time for me to join her, and I’m about to walk away from the line of trees, when I see a silhouette pull away from another tree.

So much for calling Olivia unobservant. Why didn’t I see him?

There’s no denying that he’s a fellow stalker, walking like a predator, dressed not to get noticed, in sunglasses and baseball cap, although it’s six and definitely not sunny enough to justify either. Sunset is in minutes.

It would be one thing if he was just a random pervert preying on whatever tits and ass they can look at, maybe planning to flash them. But that guy’s aiming for the same fucking target as me. His gaze is fixed on my gorgeous girl in her black dress, with her red collar.

Oh,hell, no.

I’m not sure what he’s planning. It doesn’t matter. He’s approaching her and he has no right to. She’smine.

I trail him, and I have to say, preying on the predator is exhilarating in a very different way. When I follow Liv, I know I won’t do anything to hurt her. Best-case scenario, I’ll get to fuck her while she sleeps—which I know is a major turn-on for her as much as it is for me—but most of the time I just derive pleasure from watching her, knowing she’s mine.

I’m not an observer right now.

I am a hunter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

LIV

Ibite into the buttery softness and moan. How fuckingdelicious.

I got two pretzels, but if Callum doesn’t show up in the next three minutes, he’s on his own.

I’ve ingested most of the salted goodness in three bites when some guy says, “Hey, you’re Olivia, right?”

Ugh. Paparazzi. It’s not my first time dealing with one of them. I’m about to say that, no, I don’t have any comment, when the guy pulls a fuckingknifeand brings it up to my throat in one smooth move.

I drop the pretzel and gasp.

What thefuck?

I’m too startled to even scream for help, and then, watching the three-inch blade pressing against my skin, I know better than to do it.

He could kill me in one single move.

“What do you want?” I croak, voice tight.

“For you to stop being a fucking bitch, that’s what,” he snarls, his blade cutting a red line across my throat as he walks forward, forcing me to backtrack, away from the avenue and towards the trees.

Shit!

“You’re going to take your fucking phone, call your father, and transfer him the money youowehim, understood?”

I have no clue what he thinks I owe my dad, but I don’t have any other choice but to nod. My fear would have made me agree to just about anything right now.

In all honesty, I never expected this. I thought Dad was just hot air, angrily harassing me, but he ultimately has no power over me. And sure, he has gross, dangerous friends, but I didn’t think he’d sic them on me.

I underestimated him.

Shit, shit,shit.

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