To Intrigue a Cavelli [The Seven Cavelli Brothers #1]

21.5 | The Stalker's Journal |

TRIGGER WARNING
Intense stalker tendencies. Mentions of unhealthy obsession, violence and rape. Some profanity and a lot of name calling. Mentions of blood and gore.
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'It takes you very little time, when surrounded by violence to realize— there was nothing romantic about someone killing for you.
—Reehan after he and I psychoanalysed a series of hardcore yandere books on the internet.
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The noise was getting to him. Sometimes it was hard keeping the noises in his head at bay. They had gotten pretty loud recently and he knew he needed to find someone.

Which was why he was sitting in the overcrowded bar. He had a handsome face, one that he carefully kept in the shadows as he observed the girl he had carefully selected. He knew he was supposed to remember her name but it was lost amongst the voices in his head. They were thirsty and it was making him angsty.

The woman looked like his Ollie, she had the same height and build. The same hair but it was the wrong length. She had green eyes but the shade was all wrong. But she would have to do.

She spotted him as he made his way out, he knew she would follow him. It was their code, he had told her. The stupid slút fell for it. He promised her he would take her away from her pimp and her shitty life. She told him she loved him. But he didn't love her, he loved only Ollie.

The woman was easy to lure into his car, it wasn't the first time he played with a toy. And he knew it wasn't the last time either. But his Ollie was special, she was his true love. Drugging the delusional prostitute had been almost too easy, a few drops into her water once they had sex and she was out like a light.
And finally, finally he could give the voices what they wanted and they would leave him alone.

"Pretty, pretty..." The man mumbled, his gloved hands trailing over the exposed skin, stained with dried blood. The girl, naked and spread on the bed, her limbs tied to the bed posts, whimpered in fear.

He had taken her from his apartment, meticulously wiping the place off her DNA and prints before he took her to his playpen.
Tears trialed down her cheeks as she begged for him not to hurt her, but her cried were muffled by the gag he had placed on her mouth. "Very pretty, very pretty. Aren't you?" He asked her and she cried even more.
The man's handsome features twisted into a frown when she didn't reply.

"Why aren't you answering me?" He asked her. "Why aren't you fúcking answering me! I asked you a question!!!" He snarled, nails digging into the wounds on her thighs in his anger.

"Stupid, stupid slút!" He glared at her, "Pretty doesn't make any sense when you are so dumb! Disobedience! I don't like it!" Abruptly, he stands and moves away from the trembling girl, he paced in front of the bed. Back and forth, back and forth. He continues muttering under his breath, twisting his fingers together and untwisting them before he repeats the gesture.

"You are just a replacement," He tell her in a matter of fact voice, "Only Ollie is perfect." His eyes have taken on an awed expression, there was nothing but adoration in his eyes. "My Ollie, pretty, pretty perfect Ollie. You look like her. But you aren't Ollie!" He throws out that accusation.

"She smiled at me today you know. She is always so pretty. And she reserves me a special smile, she said so. She loves me. But now there is that man! She let him kiss her! He is a bad man, he doesn't love her. Not like I do! Only I love Ollie. And he was in her home too! So I marked it, I made sure she knew. I was watching her. I will protect her." He walks over to the array of surgical tools he kept in the room. The girl on the bed starts trembling and her muffled cries get louder as she realized what he was about to do.

"I can't hurt Ollie," He mumbles as he moves towards the woman, her thighs are wet from both his semen and her blood, "So you'll need to scream and beg for me like the little slút you are!" There is a sick, delighted gleam in his eyes. It makes him appear sinister despite his handsome face.

"I love it when they scream." He says as he removes her gag and makes the first cut.
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He looked at the lifeless body on the bed, the flesh from her thighs, breasts and stomach torn and sliced. He had made a mess again. But she had bled like a stuck pig too.
He supposed he should feel some kind of remorse for her death, but it gave him and odd rush. He was still riding on his high. His hand felt heavy and tired from all the slicing but he didn't regret it.

The world wouldn't miss a slút like her. She had lived a bleak life, he was giving her chance to become something, to be immortalized in the form of his art. He was doing her a favor. And his Ollie would like to see his newest creation, she told him so. He liked the smile she gave him when he showed her one of his creations.

He'll have to wait, soon he'd finally have Ollie to himself, like he promised her. It was what she wanted. She kept his letters after all. Vitelli Cavelli wouldn't stand in his way.

His eyes shifted from his blood stained hands to the picture on the wall, it was a life-sized portrait and Ollie's smiling face greeted him from the canvas. He smiled back, it was every bit as bright as hers.
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Eight more chapters planned plus a bonus chapter before the book finally ends. I feel like I might be rushing this one too much.