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.

“You see? She still cares. What

triumphant smile froze

Next time you raise a hand to me, I

when you never publicly acknowledged me as your girlfriend,

Chapter 9

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

on Castro’s broken form sprawled across our front lawn.

still unwilling to leave.

murder charges over someone like

bat aside with visible reluctance, but couldn’t resist straddling Castro’s prone form

waiting medical team.

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

lethal grace. I caught William’s Savile

into Castro’s

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

seat to watch her live her best life without

“Take him away.”

down the private

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

confused. After such drama,

“Why shopping?”

into

is the best cure

interjected hopefully. “I