Til Death Do Us Trope (Tropes 1)

I can only hear the slowing of my heart as I fall out of the seat and my world goes black.

Chapter Twelve

Arabella

“Romeo!” I scream again as he slumps in the chair.

I shake his shoulders, but all it does it tumble us to the floor. Okay, so now he may have a head injury, too.

“Alfred!” I scream, hoping someone will hear me.

Pounding boots enter the kitchen and I’m nudged aside as two of the servants go to work on Romeo. Oh god, this can’t be happening. We were finally married. I thought this was the time where we could finally be together without all the drama. Think again.

“He’s been poisoned,” one of them says, holding up a glass tube that turns green, then blue.

“Is he going to be all right? How do you know?” I blurt out, needing answers.

“I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. I just got this really cool chemistry set on Black Friday,” he says, putting away the tube while the other man performs CPR.

“What?” I cry as the two of them try to save my husband's life.

“I’ve got a heartbeat,” the one giving CPR shouts.

“Don’t worry. The ambulance is on the way,” the other says, a phone to his ear.

Who could have done this? Why won’t people just let us live in peace? Is it too much to ask for a moment of quiet? It would probably make for a boring day, I suppose.

I hear a whisper. “Little love.” I gasp.

I reach out, taking Romeo’s hand and look into his eyes. They’re barely opened, just tiny slits as he tries to choke out the words.

“Arabe—” He tries to say my name, but I shush him.

“Save your strength. Help is on the way. You were poisoned.” Suddenly suspicion is crawling up my neck and I see that Romeo is in no shape to handle this.

Going with my gut instinct, I turn to face one of the Alfreds. “Go and get the stripper cook. She’s packing her things in the guest house. And send someone to find my father. I’m sure he’s not too far away.” Alfred nods at me and leaves as another one takes his place. “And you, go and make a bed for Romeo in the living room. Then have everyone assemble in there.”

I’m about to Nancy Drew this motherfucker and find out who tried to take the love of my life from me.

Gripping Romeo’s hand tighter, I lean down and kiss his cheek. His breathing is shallow, but his pulse is strong. I hope it’s strong enough for the both of us right now.

The paramedics barge in, and once again I’m shoved out of the way. I know it’s to save Romeo, but they could be a little more polite about it.

They immediately check the chemistry set and agree that he was in fact poisoned. I’ll be damned, I guess those things are pretty accurate. Once that’s confirmed, they hook him up to an IV and carry him into the living room.

The servants have arranged a bed for him, and he’s placed on it, along with the blankets tucked around him. Some of his color is coming back, and I can only thank god that he only ingested a small amount. When Romeo is stabilized, the paramedics leave and two of the servants stay with me as I make sure Romeo is comfortable and the drugs are being flushed out of his system.

“Mrs. Trope.”

I turn around to see the servant I sent away earlier take a bow. Behind him are the cook and my father. He steps out of the way and the two people who most likely did this step forward.

“Which one of you did this?!” I shout, clenching my fists. I’m full of rage that someone would dare hurt the man I love, the father of the possible baby growing in my belly, the man who has quickly become my entire world. I won’t allow this to go unpunished.

My father won’t meet my eyes, but the cook is looking at me defiantly. She’s traded in her bikini for a sequined ball gown. I can’t say I hate it, but it seems a little inappropriate for mid-afternoon.

“You are nothing to him,” she says in a French accent while she turns up her nose at me.

Romeo growls from the bed, but I place my hand on his chest to calm him.

“And you?” I ask, turning to my father. “What do you have to say about this?”

“I-I…” he stammers, wringing his hands. “I came here to make peace. To smooth things over.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you? Not so long ago you were selling me off to someone with better business connections.” I turn to the cook. “And you!” I say, pointing a finger. “What kind of over-the-top fly girl dresses like a stripper while frying bacon?”

She shrugs and flips her hair. “You know nothing about cooking.”

“I know enough to know that bacon grease can melt silicone and those tits of yours should be more careful.”

She gasps and puts a hand to her cleavage.

“Arabella, princess,” my father pleads as he looks to the cook and then to me. “Try to understand.”

“Understand what?” I say, narrowing my eyes. This is like a bad rendition of the game Clue.

“He made us do it,” the cook says, crossing her arms and looking at my father with contempt.

“Who made you do it?” I ask in confusion, looking between the two of them.

“Me,” a voice says from the other side of the room, and I stare in shock as the Duke of England walks into the living room.

He’s soaking wet with a sword sticking out of his chest, and there is murderous anger in his eyes.

“This can’t be?” I gasp and take a step back.

“Oh, it can be,” the Duke sneers, taking a step forward. I scream as he pulls the sword from his own chest and somehow manages to raise it above his head. “If I can’t have you no one can!”

“Why don’t you fucking die already!” I whip around to see Romeo sit up in bed with a bazooka in his hand. He pulls the trigger and the Duke flails as the bullets hit him and he falls back on the ground.

“Romeo!” I cry out as I throw myself into his arms. “I thought you were going to die. Then I thought I was going to die. How many more times can we escape life-threatening situations?”

“I don’t know. It feels like it’s coming to an end,” he says, kissing my forehead. “It’s okay, little love, calm down. I’m all right and I’m going to take care of everything.”

“Thank god you’re all right.” Relief floods me knowing that once again he saved the day.

He stands up and looks at my father and the cook. “If I ever see the two of you again, you’re going to end up like the duke.” The two of them nod and leave the house together, only this time they’re escorted out.

Romeo releases me and walks over to where the Duke is laid out on the floor. Blood is beginning to pool around him. I assume it’s from the bullets and where he ripped the sword out. Seriously, who does that? Romeo takes aim and before I know what’s happening he puts two bullets in his head and then turns to look at me.

“I don’t want him popping up again. Double tap, baby,” he says, and winks at me.

“Double tap,” I agree, and throw myself into his arms.

Chapter Thirteen

Romeo

Soft lips trail down my stomach and I keep my eyes closed. I don’t want this dream to end.

I was picturing Arabella naked on a beach. The vision of her rising out of the water wet and warm as she walked over to where I was lying in the sand made every inch of my body ache for her. I wanted to pull her down and shove my cock into her, but she whispered for me to lie still.

In my dream the sun shone down on us as her body moved over mine. It felt so real I didn’t want to wake up. But then I began to realize that this wasn’t just a dream anyone.

Her mouth on my skin causes a moan to slip past my lips. I open my eyes slightly to see her blonde hair tickle across my waist just before her mouth opens around my cock.

“Arabella,” I moan as she opens wide and takes me as far as she can go.

Her hot little tongue licks its way down my cock and to my heavy balls. They’re filled with cum just for her, and I throb at the thought of spreading it on her pretty face. As if reading my mind, her eyes pop up and lock with mine. My cock pulses, and she moans as she licks the tip.