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

James. His triumphant smile froze as I crouched before

us square. Next time you raise a hand to

out – it’s rather difficult to break up when you never publicly acknowledged me as your

Chapter 9

gracefully, I smoothed my dress. “I’ll make this crystal clear, Castro: I don’t love you anymore. The next time you show up here,

William’s arm, turning my back on Castro’s broken form

however, was still unwilling

need to face murder charges over

straddling Castro’s prone form to deliver a series of precise

waiting medical team. Four uniformed paramedics efficiently loaded our unwanted visitor

for seven years,” As we turned to leave, Castro’s voice rang out with vindictive spite. “How does it feel, bro, marrying

caught William’s Savile Row sleeve, but Alexander was

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

though his eyes were arctic, “you’re making quite a case for why the old money families

you’ll have a front–row seat to

“Take him away.”

disappeared down the private drive, Alexander’s demeanor

mine, his touch gentle. “Shall we hit Bond Street?

at him, confused. After such drama, he wanted to… shop?

“Why shopping?”

lips quirked into a half–smile. “Moth

the best cure for a woman’s troubled

too!” William interjected hopefully.