Page 71 of The King of Hearts

“I know,” I say quietly. “I do too.”

She presses a kiss against my cheek and lets me go. I move to Dad next. I soak up the feeling of his strong arms and his familiar scent surrounding me.

“You cut that bastard’s dick off if he hurts you,” he rumbles in my ear.

I choke out a laugh. He’s one hundred percent serious. And he knows I would do it too.

“Yeah, Dad.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

I nod against his chest. “I will.”

“I’m going to fix this, Sav. You won’t be there long.”

Neither Bishop nor Cassio say anything as I hug each one goodbye, but I see the message on their faces. They’ll come with guns blazing and knives sharp if I need them to.

I don’t talk to Marcelo as I walk past him and out the door. I’m pissed at him and have nothing nice to say. A blacked-out Audi waits in the driveway, the same one from yesterday, and I open the door to climb in the back. The smooth, luxurious leather is cool against my skin, and I hate the way it’s so buttery soft. Loki, sleeping peacefully in his carrier, sits beside me onthe seat. Marcelo gets behind the wheel, and a moment later, we drive off.

My nerves are shot to hell and back as we navigate the roads toward the center of the island where Ryker’s house is located. Except, when we come to an intersection where we should turn left, we go right instead.

“Where are we going? I thought we were going to Ryker’s house?”

Marcelo looks at me through the rearview mirror. “We are.”

“Well, you turned in the wrong direction.”

“No, I didn’t.”

I look out my window, my brows drawing down. I know where Ryker lives. I’ve never been inside his house, but I’ve driven by it multiple times.

As we continue on our journey, something suspicious forms in the pit of my stomach when I realize where we’re going.

There’s no way Marcelo is taking me where I think he is. No one has lived in that house for years. Not since the last owners left nearly twenty years ago. The rumor is that the man of the house was murdered in cold blood, but his body was never found. The authorities speculated the man was murdered because there was so much blood on the scene. The wife and young son were left alive, but the family was extremely private and never seen. Years later, they left the island.

The slightly inclined road becomes bumpy, and the scenery grows thick with foliage. On either side of the road, trees stand tall like sentinel guards waiting to attack anyone who should dare trespass.

The trees eventually clear, and a large iron gate comes into view. Great stone wolves sit on either side of the gate on brick pylons. Marcelo pulls up to a small metal box and enters a code. The gate opens with a creek loud enough for me to hear inside the car.

“Thisis where he lives?” I ask Marcelo.

He ignores my question and gets out of the car once he stops in front of the large imposing mansion. I’m still in a state of shock that I don’t realize he’s opened my door until he calls my name.

“Savina.”

I jerk myself out of my stupor and grab my purse and phone with one hand and latch my fingers of my other hand around the handle on Loki’s carrier. Marcelo takes it from me once I’m out of the car, and I let him. I tip my head back, way back, once I’m standing in front of the old stone mansion. The sky is overcast with dark clouds, and there’s a light mist in the air. A shiver causes the hairs on my arms to stand up as a cold chill races through me. The climate definitely adds a spooky feel to the place.

A black door looms up ahead as I take the steps slowly. At the top, on either side of the door, are the same wolves, only smaller. Marcelo gets to the door before me and opens it wide. The floor of the foyer is a glossy black, the walls a light gray. I swivel my head back and forth, still not grasping that I’m actually inside the house that’s had me intrigued since I was a child.

“Savina,” a dark voice calls.

I jerk my head to the side where Ryker’s waiting at the bottom of a grand staircase. Wearing worn jeans and a dark-gray V-neck shirt, he stands there looking all casual. His relaxed stance pisses me off. How can he be so composed when I’m quaking on the inside? Truth be told, despite my bravery and determination to get through whatever sick game this man is playing, I’m scared to the bone.

Scared of what he plans to do to me. And given my body’s reaction to all the things he’s done to me so far, more terrified that I may like it.

I cross my arms over my chest and wipe all emotion from my face. I won’t let him see how unsettled I am.

“I’m here,” I announce needlessly. It’s not like he can’t see me standing right here. “Now what?”

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