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.

in Castro’s eyes. “You see? She still

from Alexander’s protective hold and approached James. His triumphant smile froze as I crouched before him, letting

with deadly calm, “makes us square. Next time you raise a hand to me, I won’t be

out – it’s rather difficult to break up when you never publicly acknowledged me as your girlfriend, isn’t it? Hard to end

Chapter 9

this crystal clear, Castro: I don’t love you anymore. The next time you

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

however, was still unwilling to leave.

need to face murder charges over someone like him.” I

tossed the vintage cricket bat aside with visible reluctance, but couldn’t resist straddling Castro’s prone form to deliver a series of precise punches that would definitely rearrange that aristocratic nose job.

Alexander signaled the waiting medical team. Four uniformed paramedics

rang out with vindictive

with lethal grace. I caught William’s Savile Row sleeve, but Alexander

his Italian leather shoe into Castro’s injured leg, grinding down with

eyes were arctic, “you’re making quite a case for why the old money families still value breeding.”

a front–row seat to watch her live her best life without you.”

“Take him away.”

had disappeared down the private

Bond Street? Perhaps start with Cartier, work our way down

confused. After such drama, he wanted to…

“Why shopping?”

quirked into a half–smile. “Moth

best cure for a woman’s

needs healing too!” William interjected hopefully. “I could use some therapeutic