Refusing To Be His Perfect Replica, I Choose The Arranged Marriag by BlueMoone

Chapter 9

Alexander kept his arm around my waist, gently pulling me aside.

“He’ll kill him!” I hissed, watching William approach with the vintage cricket bat.

A dangerous smile played across Alexander’s sculpted features. “Darling, death would be too merciful.“

He pulled out his phone, his upper–class accent dripping with dark amusement: “Have a medical team on standby at the Blackwood estate. Discretion is paramount.”

His thumb traced lazy circles on my hip, completely at odds with the tension in the air.

I shot him an incredulous look..

Castro dragged his gaze from William’s approaching figure, his perfectly maintained facade crumbling like his mud–stained Armani. “Aveline, we never properly ended things. This arranged marriage – it’s just business. You can’t possibly-”

The crack of willow on bone cut through the morning air as William’s cricket bat connected with surgical

precision.

Castro crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain.

“I’ve been standing here listening to your bullshit,” William snarled. “You manipulated my sister, struck her, and now you have the audacity to make demands?” Another swing punctuated his words.

Despite his designer suit now being thoroughly ruined by grass stains, Castro kept his desperate eyes. locked on me, dragging himself forward like a wounded animal.

“Will, stop!” I called out as he raised the bat again.

see? She still cares.

approached James. His triumphant smile froze as I crouched before him, letting my

deadly calm, “makes us square. Next time you raise a hand to me,

for breaking up -I must point out – it’s rather difficult to break up when you never publicly acknowledged me as your girlfriend, isn’t it? Hard to end something that officially

Chapter 9

I don’t love you anymore. The next time you

William’s arm, turning my back on Castro’s broken form sprawled across our front

was still unwilling to leave.

over someone like

Castro’s prone form to deliver a series of precise punches that would definitely rearrange that aristocratic

rage, Alexander signaled the waiting medical team. Four uniformed

As we turned to leave, Castro’s voice rang out with

grace. I caught William’s Savile

pressed his Italian leather shoe into Castro’s injured leg,

“you’re making quite

have a front–row seat to watch

“Take him away.”

the private drive, Alexander’s demeanor shifted completely.

mine, his touch gentle. “Shall we hit Bond Street? Perhaps start with Cartier, work our way down to

blinked at him, confused. After such

“Why shopping?”

into a half–smile. “Moth

cure for

William interjected hopefully. “I could use some therapeutic