Page 31 of The Casella King

My hands tremble beside me as I watch Ray writhing in pain on the floor of the church, for everyone to see. I knew Ezra had power, but this just didn’t cross my mind, and it should have. I should have known something like this would happen. Whilst I’m glad Ezra didn’t kill Ray, I feel a little confused as to how I feel about Ezra shooting him. Realisation rushes over me that marrying Ezra would be like this, bloodshed almost every day of the week, and I think I forgot who I was marrying when we spent those wonderful days in his cabin, away from reality.

Could I handle it?

“And do you Miss Alterio take Ezra Casella to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” The priest speaks to me, but all I can see are Ezra’s dark eyes, peering into my soul, consuming me from within. His jaw ticks as he waits for me to answer, and I let go of a breath I’ve been holding.

“I do.” I breathe, his facial muscles relaxing, a devilish twinkle in his eyes as he smirks.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.” The priest moves out of the way as Ezra pulls me into him and, to give the last dramatic effect, kisses me like he’s been starved of my lips. The church erupts in clapping and whistles, and you’d think someone wasn’t just shot in the leg a moment ago, the entire thing forgotten.

Because now the King has a wife.

Me.

I feel the blood rush back to my toes as I remove both of my high heels and place them on the floor. The night went unexpectedly quick, lots of people congratulating us, giving us money, wishing us well. Most of them were quite nice, although some were a little snarky, but I didn’t let that bother me, and I tried to enjoy my fake wedding as best I could.

I fell asleep as Henry drove us to Ezra’s holiday house, and when I woke up, I had no idea how long I’d been asleep or how far away we were from London until Ezra mentioned we were just past Windsor. The house was a little older than the one he has in London, you could tell it looked a little tired, but my jaw instantly dropped when we walked up to the house, which was on a vast amount of land, that much I could tell even though it was dark.

I watch as Ezra uncuffs his shirt sleeves and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

“Were you going to shoot Ray?” I ask, feeling the slight tension between us.

“Ididshoot him,” he answers, now with his shirt off, the dim lighting of the room accentuating his buff frame, tall and hard in all the right places.

“You know what I mean.”

His jaw tenses as he turns and walks toward me, standing in front of me, he places his finger under my chin and tilts my face up to meet his gaze. “I would have ended his life without batting an eye.”

My breathing hitches at his touch, a wave of energy coursing through me. “Why didn’t you?” I ask, and he turns away from me, walking over to the dresser, placing his Rolex on top.

“Aries, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’m not afraid to kill.” He turns back to me, his eyes piercing into mine as he walks over and places his hand on my cheek. “I’ve had a lot of blood on these hands over the years, and I’m not afraid to have more.” His eyes fall to my lips, and I can’t help but bite down on my bottom lip, watching him standing there in front of me half naked. “But you’ve quickly gotten under my skin, sweetheart.”

I swallow as I watch his eyes darken, my heart thumps beneath my chest as I begin to stand, closing the distance between us. My hands travel up from his abs to his chiselled pecs, tracing a finger over his tattoo.

“Does this hold significance?” I ask, looking up to him, his hands circle around me, holding me closer to his body.

“It’s the Casella crest,” he says as his lips trace my jaw, sending a flutter between my legs. The crest is a calligraphy letter C with two guns crossed like a skull and bones, blood dripping from the barrels. His hands move down to my ass, grabbing me through my dress. “Why are you still wearing this?” He starts pawing at my dress, groaning as his dick presses into my stomach.

“You don’t like it?” My breathing accelerates as my hands roam his broad shoulders.

“I’d like it better pooled around your waist.” His lips crash into mine, stealing the air in my lungs, not giving me a moment to contest. He pulls one spaghetti strap down my shoulder, and I pull back from him, holding him at a distance.

His eyes roam my face, in search of an answer as to why.

“Maybe we should stop,” I breathe as I step to the side and pull the strap back over my shoulder. His eyebrows pull together.

“And why would we do that?” he asks as he walks towards me.

“Because we need to set some boundaries.” My heart pounds at his scent now all over me. My body craves his touch, his closeness, but my mind tells me no, denying my body of the ecstasy that is easily within reach.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?” He smirks.

“I just think we need to set some boundaries for this to work.” I look around the room for something, anything, that will take my gaze off him for even a moment. “For things not to go too far or get too heated.”

I feel the heat of his body in front of me, and he pulls my chin up to face him, being anything but gentle. “Is that what you really want?”

My breathing is uneven, as I watch the desire burn in his eyes. “I think it would make it easier for both of us if we kept things strictly professional.” My voice almost a whisper. “Like a business agreement.”

“Are you telling me the things we did in the cabin were a mistake?”

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