Page 37 of The Casella King

“When were you going to tell me that cockless fuck was still contacting you?” I ask, and I feel her body stiffen.

“He’s harmless,” she finally says after a few moments.

“Hmm.” I breathe in her scent. “I don’t give a fuck, he doesn’t get to speak with you.” I turn her around, her front now firmly pressed against mine. “He doesn’t even get tobreathein your direction, do you understand?” My hand slithers down and grips her ass, tightly enough that I know it’ll probably bruise.

She winces. “Ezra.”

“I mean it,” I say through gritted teeth. “You’re mine.” I kiss her with everything I have whirling inside me—hate, greed, power, lust, love—and I hope to a god I don’t believe in that she somewhat feels the same for me.

After she falls asleep, I grab her phone and walk to the large en suite. Turning the shower on, I wait for the hot water to run as I take out her SIM card and flush it down the toilet. Walking back out, I dial Henry’s number from my phone.

“Yes, boss?” he answers on the first ring.

“Get Ray here and tie him up in the basement,” I say before I hang up, throwing my phone on the bed and jumping into the now warm shower.

He will learn what it means to dance with the devil. I smile as I think about my plan. I watch as the dried blood slowly washes off my face in the floor-length mirror across from the shower, revealing the evil hidden underneath. A normal man might feel shame or guilt after what I had just done, but all it does is spur me on further. I want everyone to know she is mine, that I will never let her go.

It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve been back in London, and so far, we haven’t made much progress with the Brayfords. Things like this always take time, but my patience isn’t my strongest quality.

Tonight, we are holding a fundraiser, the same event we host every year in honour of the founding families. The Brayfords, The Dixons, The Guerras, and us. The fundraiser night should be a night where I get to relax, talk to the men who have stood by me my entire life and get to know what really makes them stay. Instead, all I can do is watch her, the way her hips sway as she walks in her stunning bloodred dress that falls effortlessly against her perfect curves. There has never been another time when a woman has affected me this much.

“Mr Casella, it is so nice to see you tonight.” A woman speaks in front of me, my eyes remaining on my wife on the opposite side of the room. “This is such a beautiful event,” she continues talking, but I ignore her as I watch Aries being approached by someone.

“Excuse me.” I slip past her, weaving through the crowd as I make my way to Aries when I’m interrupted by Jackson. His large hand lands on my shoulder, his body stepping in front of mine.

“Ezra…” He smiles, a whiskey glass in his hand. “It’s been a whilst, brother.” Whilst he’s not blood, I do consider him as such.

I smirk, remembering all the terrible shit we used to get up to in our teen years. Our families are allies and have been since the beginning. Our blood ties run true, and I consider his family as my own. If he were to come to me tomorrow and ask for my help to bury someone, I’d grab two shovels and ask no questions. Our loyalty is blind to each other.

“Jackson.” I pull him into a quick hug. “I’ve been busy,” I say as my eyes flee to Aries and back to him. His eyes follow mine, and he nods.

“Of course, the great Ezra Casella is now a married man.” He laughs. “She is…something.”

My hands curl into fists, and he removes his hand from my shoulder.

“Now, now, don’t get all territorial.” He looks at her again, and I want to rip the smirk from his mouth. “She’s got fire. The way she’s been talking with the women, I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone who isn’t part of this world be able to stand up for themselves like that.”

My jaw clenches at his words, at the thought of people not making her feel welcome, but I knew that would be part of it. A part of me is proud, but I also knew she could manage the mafia princesses with no effort.

“She’s a force, and she doesn’t even know it yet,” I say.

“Listen, there’s been some talk.” His face turns serious as he returns his focus to me. “People are saying the Brayfords are working with the police.”

“They have nothing and no leg to stand on,” I reassure him. “Don’t forget how many men I have on my payroll.”

He shifts his weight onto his other leg. “Just be careful. I think they’re up to something,” he warns. “If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

Jackson Guerra is a couple years older than me, so naturally, I looked up to him when I was a young. He taught me all there is to know about how to please our fathers. When to talk back and when to shut the fuck up. I trust him like I trust Nico.

With my life.

“Thanks, Jackson.” I pat him on the shoulder, my eyes now searching for Aries. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my wife.”

I search for her in the last place I saw her, but she isn’t there. My eyes sweep the crowd as they land on Nico, chatting up some girl at the bar. Then I catch sight of a gold sparkle, the bracelet she’s wearing glinting in the light as she slips out of the large doors. I follow her out, keeping my distance, watching as she heads outside, into the garden, which is now dark, barring the moonlight that shines through it. She stops in the middle of the garden and looks up to the sky, and I wonder what she is thinking, as she stands there with a drink in her hand. I stalk up to her, careful not to make a sound, and when my hand lands on her shoulder, she shrieks, turning around and dropping her glass on the ground.

I chuckle. “Did I scare you?”

Her hand rushes to her now heaving chest. “Yes, you scared me…every othernormalperson announces themselves.”

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