Page 108 of Ravaged By Lust

None of us have time to react before the “journalist” raises his expensive-ass professional camera and takes a blinding photo of us.

“What the fuck?” Axel lets go of his fiancée’s hand and approaches Harold. “This is a private occasion. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Harold smiles, knowing he’s already got the shot he was here to get. “I followed you here from LA. It’s always good to get a Ravaged photo, especially when you’re all in it at your most vulnerable.”

“Leave,” I say to the man, gently guiding my new wife protectively behind me.

Drake steps forward by my side. “Fuck off, Harold.”

He’s saying what we’re all thinking.

But the paparazzo merely strokes his chin in a deliberately obnoxious attempt to piss us off. “I was saying to myself on the way here… why would Ravaged suddenly go to Vegas?” he asks rhetorically. “Someone must be getting married. A little shotgun wedding, perhaps?”

His gaze zooms in on Maddie and her engagement ring. He smiles. He is lapping this up like a cat and a bowl of milk.

He then quickly raises his camera a second time, physically pushing past Axel to take a photo of his fiancée.

Snap.

“I’m going to be the first person in the country to break this story,” the man says self-congratulatory.

“Back the fuck away from my pregnant fiancée,” Axel says, his voice trembling as he tries to restrain himself.

He realizes, too late, that he’s said the wrong thing.

Harold smiles.

He looks at the rest of us. Then at Maddie.

Specifically, her pregnant belly. Ravaged’s secret we’re keeping from the world.

“How perfect,” he whispers excitedly. “The best story to break. She’s not only getting married, but she’s also pregnant.”

And then he leans forward, pressing his camera mere inches from her face.

The act is so aggressive. So forceful.

And then there’s a yell. A guttural roar.

It’s coming from Caspian.

The man barges past Maddie and punches Harold right in the jaw, making the photographer collapse instantly to the ground.

Knocked out.

Caspian stops.

“Fuck,” he says.

We’re all silent.

In shock.

Did Caspian really just full-on punch the man?

Drake kneels down and checks Harold’s heartbeat.

“He’s okay,” our lead singer says. “He’s still breathing. Just unconscious. We’ll need to call an ambulance, though.”