Page 64 of The Casella King

“You never have to hide from me,” he whispers as he stares deep into my soul, his thumb wiping away another tear. “Ever.”

I watch from afar as Ezra and Nico question Darcy. I explained to them how much she helped me and how willing she was to get me out of there even if she didn’t know me.

I spent two whole weeks in that awful underground hospital, bored out of my brain, focusing on my recovery. Ezra only ever left my side to shower and change, but he was always there.Feeding me, listening to me whine about the pain every time I moved.

“Do you want to explain to us how you’re involved with the Brayford family?” Nico questions as she stares up at him with a smirk.

“Look, I know you think you know everything about the Brayfords, but you don’t,” she seethes.

“Then tell us,” Nico says, his voice calm. Ezra stands in the corner, hands in his pockets, letting his brother lead the questioning. I can’t help but feel like I need to step in, like I have some sort of kinship with Darcy because she tried to aid me.

“What’s in it for me?” she asks as Ezra looks at Nico. A moment passes, and neither of them answer. “As soon as I tell you bothanything, I’m dead, right?”

“We can’t have someone who knows too much,” Ezra explains.

“Can’t, or won’t?” She looks to me, and I avert my gaze, looking to the floor. I rack my brain for a possible solution to all of this where she doesn’t have to lose her life, and I struggle to come up with one.I’m sorryI mouth to her as she rips her gaze from mine.

“If there’s one thing you should know, it’s that Leo wasn’t lying about your brother,” she confesses, and all eyes are on her. “He’s out there. I have seen him and spoken to him myself.”

“Does he know about us?” Nico asks.

“He knowsofyou.”

“Where is he now?” Ezra questions in a hard tone.

“If I tell you, will you let me live?”

“If you tell us, and we can corroborate your story, we will spare your life,” Ezra confirms as he steps closer to Darcy. “But not because I pity you, only because you helped my wife.”

“He’s in Italy,” she confesses, and Ezra looks to Nico. The room falls silent as both brothers exchange a look that evenIcannot recognise.

“Wait.” Nico looks to Darcy as his face changes. “You’re Darcy Brayford, aren’t you?” He asks, and her face falls at his realisation. “The Mafia princess.”

My mouth falls open as I work to make sense of the fact that she helped me, when she could’ve killed me.

It’s been a week of planning and preparing to visit Italy in search of Ezra’s estranged brother. Every single action taken has been in secret, in hiding from Ezra’s mother as he and Nico gathered all of their information before confronting her about it. It’s not my place, so I’ve stayed out of it. I’ve been focusing on getting to know Darcy a little more. Even though she acts like a closed book, I can sense that she wants the same thing. She wants a friend she can confide in. I lay on our large king-size bed that takes up almost the entire room, texting with Giselle and apologising for being MIA over the past few weeks. It’s late into the night, and she’s up with Ryan, texting me about how much he’s changed in such a short time, when I hear the door to the bedroom open. My eyes find Ezra’s as I watch him walk in, his white shirt covered in blood and spread across his face as he grins at me. My heart stutters as I take him in, black distressed jeans, a white shirt now stained in thick red blood, his dark hair dishevelled. It should scare anyone, but it excites me.

I swallow at the sight of him, his eyes pulling me in like a beacon. “I thought we had killed our enemies,” I say as I prop myself up on my elbows.

“Turns out the little guys want a taste.” His lips pull at the corner, his eyes growing darker by the second. “If I’m not mistaken, sweetheart, you owe me something.” He takes a step closer to the bed, slipping off his shirt. My mouth almost hangs open at the bruises covering his skin, his muscles glistening with sweat under the moonlight.

“I—”

“You owe me the promise of your lips around my cock,” he growls as he makes his way around the bed, staring down at me. I swivel myself so my legs are dangling off the edge of the bed as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls the zipper down.

“Get on your knees, baby, and open that pretty little mouth,” he mutters.

I do exactly as he says, feeling the heat pooling between my legs at his words. He releases his cock, and it juts out, large and thick. My mouth waters at the sight of the veins, and I reach up, but before I can wrap my hands around him, his hand grips my wrist.

“Mouth only,” he warns.

I open my mouth as he grips the base of his cock and slides the tip inside. The salty taste of him engulfs my tongue as I take him deeper, watching as his brows draw in.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as he forces himself deeper.

I watch him crane his neck backward as I take him further down my throat. I force myself to focus on not gagging as he pulls back, giving me the opportunity to take a breath then forces himself deeper down my throat.

“Oh fuck,” he rasps as he grips the hair on the top of my head, moving his hips backward and forward. “You look so fucking pretty with my cock deep in your throat.”

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