This is how I want her, under my me, controlled always. I should get her a diamond-and-sapphire choker. Fucking collar her so the world knows who she answers to.

“Jesus Christ.” I pull out. What am I thinking? My breathing is harsh and I try to focus. I’m in too deep. This has to be it.

I’m marrying Rachel, not collaring Raven.

She turns to stare at me, her eyes showing me everything a man like me should never see.

“I need to go.” I pull my sweats up. This is over. It’s not fair to her. “Raven?”

She cocks her head, her hair that was up has found its way down. Her eyes look like sparkling gems, and her lips are slightly parted while she tries to steady her breath. She’s breathtaking, which makes her a target with her mother, and I guess me.

I reach up to stroke her lips.

I didn’t plan this, but I started it, and now I’ll end it.

Control.

It’s what makes me, me. The more I have, the more powerful I feel.

“What? Nothing?” She shakes her head. Her hands tremble slightly as she straightens her bikini top. “Just go, Mr. Powers. Your secret is safe with me,” she snaps, reaching down to tie her bottoms.

Go. I need to. I am marrying her mother.

“You can call me Jett from now on.” I step back, knowing those were the words she needed to hear. She doesn’t look at me, just nods, then brushes past me.

“I’m going to swim, Jett. Enjoy the rest of your day.” Her voice is almost thick with held-back tears.

I fight the temptation to reach for her.

Tell her the truth.

“Raven?” She stops but doesn’t turn.

“Make sure you lock your bedroom door tonight.” Her back straightens. She reaches to pin her hair up again, and the door shuts behind her.

And I’m alone, with only her scent.

Chapter Seventeen

RAVEN

Turns out I didn’t need to lock my door. He hasn’t tried it once. It’s been three nights and nothing. Monday came and went. I didn’t go to court with him.

Maria did show up though. Apparently, her car took longer to fix than expected. She seems to be my personal jailer slash spy who reports daily to my mother. Or maybe it’s Jett. I don’t even care. I’ve got nothing to hide. Two emotions consume me: emptiness and rage. They alter depending on the time of day.

I’ve read three books, sunbathed every day, and if I don’t get out of this house, I might go mad.

“Maria? How would you like to go to the beach? Maybe we could have a late lunch-early dinner on the boardwalk? Buy some cheap, completely unnecessary stuff? What do you think?” I smile, but I know she’s on to me.