Page 12 of The Casella King

“Ezra, you can’t make every bad thing in my life just magically disappear and expect I will accept your offer.” I roll my eyes.

“Watch me.” He smirks, and the confidence this man exudes melts the feminist in me. “I like the way you say my name. You should say it more often.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips, his eyes wandering south of my chin. “In fact, I expect it.”

“What did you tell Henry?” I ask, expecting him to hide it from me, but he doesn’t.

“I told him to buy your sister a house and organise a moving truck. Tomorrow.” He smiles as if he’s proud of himself.

The waiter walks into the kitchen, emerging a few seconds later with our appetisers.

“I also arranged a nanny for her. I hear postpartum is not easy.” He lifts his glass to his lips to take a sip, and I lose my words. All of them, gone, fallen out of my head.

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

I stand up, my heart beating through my chest, my hands shaking. My breathing shallow, I stumble to the side of the yacht, Ezra closely on my heels, steadying me by my elbow. My hand clutches my forehead as I take in the information he’s just relayed to me. Something I thought I couldn’t do for my sister was just taken care of in a matter of minutes. Her entire life would change drastically for the better because of this, but it is probably so insignificant to him.

“Are you okay?” His voice is laced with worry as he ducks his head, looking at me, checking me over. I feel tears sting behindmy eyes as I look up at him, his brows furrow, unsure of what’s happening.

I feel a mix of emotions flow through me as I wrap my arms around his neck, his arms immediately tightening around my waist, pulling me in further, our bodies pressed against each other. I don’t know this man, but his actions, veiled or not, give me a sense of relief.

“Thank you.” My voice comes out in barely a whisper as I fight to hold back the tears. I feel his face move into my neck, his breath tickling my skin. I now realise I am in the arms of the Casella King.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says as we slowly break apart, and he guides me back to the table.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get all emotional—it’s just, what you did in a matter of moments, I couldn’t even dream of achieving in years.” I wipe a tear away from my cheek with the back of my hand. “It’s a big deal.” I know he didn’t do it for me. I know he did it to convince me to accept this deal.

“If you do this for me, I can promise you won’t ever have to worry about your financial situation ever again,” he says, looking straight into my eyes.

You’d be mad to turn down someone like Ezra Casella. Some would fear what he would do to you if you did, but right now, I feel like I need to repay him.

“I’ll do it.” I nod. “I’ll be your fake wife,” I say, his eyes smiling with victory.

“Perfect.” He gestures to the food on our plates. “Mangiare.”

We devour our entrées, and to my expectation, it was sensational, almost like a five-star restaurant, but on a yacht.

“There’s somewhere else we will be heading tonight.” His husky voice disrupts my thoughts, my attention snapping back to him. It seems like he hesitates for a moment before he speaks.“I own a club in Shoreditch, and we need to be seen there together, tonight.”

My eyes go wide, not expecting for this whole fake thing to start so soon.

“T-tonight? But I thought…” I stop because what did I think? I agreed to the deal. “Never mind. Okay, sure.”

“You’ll need to be pretty good at faking to be my fiancée for this to work. Are you certain you can do this?” He raises his eyebrows, doubting me, and the truth is I’m doubting myself right now.

“Yes, I’m sure. I can be convincing,” I say in my best non-shaky voice as the waiter brings over our dessert. The light-brown embers in his eyes swirl as he takes a bite of his cannoli. Lifting mine to my mouth, I take a bite, and my eyes roll back involuntarily. Damn this is sensational.

“You’ll be okay with me touching you?” he asks as he takes another bite.

I try not to choke on my food.

“Kissing you?”

I take a sip of water to wash down the flakes left in my throat.

Would I?

Be okay with him touching me?

Kissing me?

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