The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 157

I’m watching the floor half-heartedly, picking my nails and sighing with boredom. There is a weird, eerie quietness to the club tonight, and it hasn’t escaped my attention that several members failed to show for their pre-booked night of fun. There is an aura of seriousness in the air and it’s affecting everyone in here. I’ve even caught Jackson pacing the room and looking around in confusion as to why the atmosphere is so sombre.

It’s given me an anxious knot in my gut all night which has only grown larger by the hour and has me fidgeting uncontrollably. I hate the atmosphere in here and the fact no one seems to be in the merry frame of mind like on a normal night. Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

It’s not like we have changed anything that would have this kind of negative effect. There is a full strip floor show going on, tenders serving booze and drugs and the girls are working extra hard to get the men going. The men, however, are huddled in little serious groups with a lot of secretive chatter going on among them. Something is amiss, and it’s practically radiating around the room. The lack of one grey eyed Carrero has me riled up and trying not to think the worst, brain zooming back to that shoot- out and I sigh for the millionth time to release some of my pent-up tension that is coiled inside like an overloaded spring.

“Miss me?” I jump a mile high when the smooth unmistakeably husky voice catches me from my left side and I spin to see Alexi casually propped against the end of the bar on one elbow, looking freshly showered and changed from his formal attire of earlier into a white shirt over jeans. His hair is damp and ruffled and he pushes off his resting place and saunters towards me confidently. Bit odd that he would come home and shower, seeing as it’s now after midnight but I dismiss it as not important and acknowledge the tiny tingle of relief running through me that he’s here. Not shot or something else sinister with the way the atmosphere has been tonight. It crossed my mind more than once that I should worry about him, even if he is an unworthy letch who needs a good kick up the backside.

“No.” I retort snappily and cross my arms over my bust in my figure-hugging black jersey dress to cover the way I jumped. It’s looking fine on my toned and tight little body I’m rather proud of, and I made an extra effort to look both sexy and flawless tonight, with him in mind. To rub it in his face that he won’t be getting near me by a mile.

His eyes run over me unapologetically, obviously enjoying the view and I hope it gets to him, seeing as I currently dislike the prick. I turn away from him to scan the room once more, dismissing his presence as though he could be any Tom, Dick or Harry, and I give no shits. He wants to play at acting like there is nothing between us, then I’m all for doing the same. I’m still stinging from his manner with me earlier today and I just cannot seem to let it go.

“Still mad at me, Princess?” The voice comes closer, my left ear and neck tickling with the softness of his breath as he leans in to make sure I hear him and walks past a few steps to stand apart and mirror my pose, crossed arms and scanning his club. Making a show of being nothing but employee and boss.

Fuck off, wanker.

“If you haven’t observed … this is what that looks like!” I snap petulantly, spitting my words venomously at his back. Alexi frowns and tilts his head towards me, a little look of concern crossing his face.

“You know everything I do has a reason, don’t get uppity because I had to play at being indifferent.” He sighs heavily, glancing my way with a little more furrow to his brow, a look of weariness coming over him, and it just irritates me even more that he isn’t even attempting an apology. In fact, he’s not affectionate tonight at all. He seems closed off, strangely aloof and lacking his normal fizzing energy. It just adds to my heightened state of annoyance.

“That was not what that was, that was overkill and you know it. I forgot, logic over emotion and you don’t give a shit who gets hurt. Especially when it comes to me.” I sulk, tightening my arms over my

aching heart. Tears biting my eyes because I truly harboured a minuscule little hope he would walk in and at least try to backtrack his behaviour. That a tiny hint of the man I spent last night with would make an appearance.

Oh boy, how wrong I was. Still manages to cut me without trying. Acting like he sees nothing wrong in what he did.

“That’s not true. Can we not do this here? Let’s go upstairs for some privacy.” He turns again and throws me a cool look that to an outside eye appears to be Alexi talking down to his staff and getting bored with her. I narrow my eyes and frown back at him furiously. Temper working up under my skin with the way he thinks he can boss me around.

“I’m working. For another three hours, so … no.” I turn on my heel and head towards the bar, suddenly craving something stronger than water now he is here. I have been sulking all night and not in the mood for booze until he showed up. Killing the ounce of good mood I had clawed back with his mere presence and shitty attitude.

“Don’t make me carry you.” The warning, low-toned threat that has a hint of a smile in it. I don’t know if this is an attempt at being funny, or if he is being a dickhead and it’s a real threat.

“You wouldn’t dare!” I throw a wary look back at him and the smirk and evil glint in his eye tell me he definitely would. I swallow a tad loudly and shrug, trying to hide it as though I don’t believe him. Heartbeat slightly elevated regardless because hauling my arse out of this room, in front of all these people, would be beyond humiliating. Hoe-Anne over in the corner all wide-eyed and gawky at his presence would probably enjoy the show.

I walk to the bar to act like I don’t care and tell the tender to get me a vodka on the rocks, flinching when a warm body slides right up beside me and saps all the oxygen right out of my space. Still able to do that even when I don’t like him very much.

“You don’t want to know the outcome of my day? Not even a little bit curious, seeing as your existence hangs in the balance?” He presses in gently so his arm is against my side, imposingly hot on my cool skin, making no obvious moves to touch me. It has that devastating effect of familiarity and tingles coursing over me. Once again cursing him out silently that body chemistry betrays me.

He turns so his back is against the wooden ledge, leaning back so he can prop his elbows and lounges casually with me in his peripheral vision. I know he is aware of the eyes on us in this room, so he can look at me without actually doing it. I just eye roll and sigh heavily. Curiosity is killing me concerning Santagato and the fact Alexi was asking him to back off, where I am concerned. He is right; as much as I want to stand here and make him suffer, I really want to know what’s going on and he’ll only tell me when we are alone.

Manipulating me because he can, and he knows how.

Tosser.

“Fine, but once you’ve brought me up to speed, I will continue my night. It is my job after all. I don’t intend staying upstairs with you any longer than I have to.” I’m losing the anger in my tone and it’s being replaced with fatigue instead. Pissed at him for all of this but no energy to fight him anymore. I’m still recovering from last night’s booze fest and only still down here out of stubbornness because I didn’t want to be accessible to him when he came home. I felt like I had more control by showing him he couldn’t stop me working the bar. Sense told me to go to bed and sleep off my all-day hangover. I should have listened.

“Oh … and a sorry would not fucking kill you!” I hiss at his ear as I turn with my glass in hand, whipping it up as soon as it’s slid my way and storm out ahead of him to take my booze to the hallway lift with me. Just cannot let him go without some sort of consequence to his actions.

“It might,” he chuckles as he follows at a slight distance and I eye roll so hard I almost detach my retina while gritting my teeth, so I almost crack a crown.

I catch Hoe-Anne glaring from her little corner of doom and gloom where a punter is pawing at her mercilessly, and she watches us leave with a look that tells me she hasn’t warmed to me at all of late. I really need to start interviewing for an assistant so I can kick her arse out my front door. I don’t know why I add to my misery by still having her here every night. It’s no fun and I lost interest in making her suffer an age ago. She just acts as a reminder that Alexi screwed her to wound me.

She is a constant toxic presence; I want her gone and I may have identified a possible replacement in one of my bar staff. A new girl, Rebel, seems to have the makings of a competent organiser, and I had been watching her tonight as she works the floor. She takes pride in what she does and has an eye for detail and cleanliness and an air of authority over her fellow staff; they respect her and listen to her directions. I file her at the back of my brain and don’t look back until I turn at the bank of lifts and press the button with my best impression of utter boredom and complete disinterest.

Alexi wanders up casually as though he hasn’t a care in the world, ignoring my mood and throws me a cheeky wink as he walks into the lift beside me as the doors open.

“You look fuckable as always, London.” It’s the first thing he says as we stand apart and he scans me with those wolfish eyes of his. No shock that he dismisses anything he doesn’t want to deal with and just tramples over me with his boorish alpha male bullshit.

“That’s nice. Not that you will benefit.” I sulk petulantly and he just laughs at me. A light boyish chuckle that grates on my nerves because it’s the same as saying ‘sure, we’ll see.’

All his cold controlled mannerisms sliding into that more casual relaxed way he has when watchful eyes are gone. Now that I notice it, I see it more and more. The change is so subtle but also so vast. The many cloaks he wears.

“You cannot be seriously this pissed about earlier. You know Santagato was my number one suspect in what happened here. I was hardly going to show him any weakness where you were concerned.” He shrugs it off which just ignites my temper and I don’t hold back, spinning at him so I slosh my booze all over my hand clumsily.

“Did you have to be so bloody convincing and nasty and make me feel like shit? You didn’t need to be such a prick!”

“Cam, you walked out of that elevator smiling at me with puppy dog eyes and love hearts floating around your head. I had to shut you down fast and rile your temper. You are very good at exuding poisonous hate towards me when I piss you off. Santagato would never doubt how much you loathe me when you’re mad. Hell, I can’t even tell if this is genuine hatred or just hurt and angry.” He reaches for me and I slap the back of his hand away so hard it stings my palm but has the desired effect of him dropping it back down.

“Screw you. I forgot you don’t understand how normal feelings work, so tough shit if you actually hurt me, right?” My voice catches in my throat, a raw, vulnerable sign of impending tears and I turn away from him slightly, so I don’t have to look at him anymore. Trying to simmer and not bubble over but it’s so very hard.

“Come on, Cam. Seriously? I thought you knew what was going on.” Fingers trailing up my arm lightly that I push away aggressively, feeling prickly and unable to stand his touch. He just sighs heavily.

“Leave me alone.” It’s a sulky, petulant half tearful snap.

I yelp when he catches my upper arm and yanks me ungraciously with a little oomph back towards him, almost sending me off my high heels and I instinctively hit him in the chest with my free hand. Annoyed with the heavy-handed manhandling and glare at him with as much hatred as I can.

“You want me to say sorry? I’m sorry. I really did think you would understand the why once you cooled down. I didn’t try to hurt you. I figured you of all people in this building could figure out I didn’t mean any of it.”

He doesn’t wait for me to say anything but takes my glass from me and downs it in one go, arrogantly, igniting more fury, which earns him an annoyed shoulder slap and an irate ‘hey’.

“What? You were throwing it around rather than drinking it. Now shut up and come on.” Alexi grabs one of my waving hands as the doors slide open and pulls me out ungentlemanly towards the apartment door. Not even giving me a chance to retort to his lame apology.

It earns him another slap, this time in the back of those annoyingly broad shoulders, just full-on violent tonight. The only way I can expel all I’m feeling because he is so shit at grovelling and I’m in need of venting. Not that my feeble efforts would do him any damage. He doesn’t even flinch, just keeps his demon grip on me and almost drags me into the flat at the speed of light. He doesn’t acknowledge my slaps at all.

“You are a tosser, you know that?” I just sulk at his back when he finally lets me go in the open-plan living room and heads for his beloved coffee maker, dumping my glass on the counter noisily and leaves me standing in the middle of the room.

“Yup.” He doesn’t even look back and the arrogance in his manner, even now we are alone, sobers me a little. The loving, soft and sweet Alexi of this morning is severely lacking right now, and I narrow my gaze at him distrustfully. There is a weird mood circling him, I can taste it.

Maybe last night was a fluke or maybe he’s changed his mind now he has had space from me all day and realised the committed relationship stuff wasn’t really for him.

My heart literally stops, as does my breath as my lungs pause painfully. Instant panic that maybe he doesn’t want me anymore and I’m just really slow to catch-up.

It has the same effect as ripping my heart right out.

“What is with you tonight?” The words are out before I can filter them, strained, panic-ridden suddenly, and he just throws me back a strange pensive expression, a little surprised that I can sense it, before pulling open the cupboard for his coffee and supplies to get his machine going.

Alexi isn’t used to being read, I guess. He is normally so good at keeping all things under a mask. Which only adds to the weight of my growing hysteria that maybe I’m right, and he really is backtracking his love confession and that’s why he was so cold earlier.

“I have a lot on my mind. Sit. We need to talk.”

Bossy, demanding, no hint of love, and I consider walking out and going back downstairs. I’m not in the right frame of mind for arsehole Mafia boss. I already feel fragile and I know he possesses the switch to my crying mechanism. Now there is this added weird atmosphere and my nerves are telling me he is about to dump me before we are even a thing; I suddenly feel sick and bordering on dizziness so intense I sway on my feet slightly.

“Tea?” He asks in afterthought, his tone a little softer this time. It’s almost as though he’s reading me just as well as I’m reading him and backs off, knowing he’s being a jerk. Sensing my heightened emotions. I nod when he throws me a gentler look with a hint of a smile that brings out those dimples and he fills the kettle and turns it on.

“Ok, so now I know something is up. When do you make me tea?” I query nervously, voice a little high with nerves.

“About to break up with me or something?” It’s a bad attempt at veiling a genuine fear with humour and it gets me a confused frown flicked my way.

“No.” He lets out a disbelieving chuckle, a second glance that hints he is contemplating if I’m serious, and then sighs. His face dropping as he realises that maybe I might be serious and hits me with an intense look, all seriousness oozing into his expression and manner.

“I love you, Cam. Nothing’s changed. Just relax and have a little faith in my feelings. They aren’t something I can switch off or lose interest in. I’m sorry I was an asshole. I honestly didn’t think you would take it this way. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Another concerned little furrowed glance and he turns back to what he is doing, surprised that that’s what would be in my head. Taking a moment to think while he does what he is doing.

It isn’t a slushy begging for my forgiveness, but it’s an acknowledgement he did wrong; although I’m still smarting, and he hasn’t unruffled my feathers completely.

Those three words though, they are very effective when he uses them the right way.

I move to sit on the couch, anger and all the messy stuff inside me dissipating slightly with that one little reassurance. So easily swayed by him, despite myself, and just in need of something solid to take me off my Bambi legs. I feel like my limbs are turning to jelly.

I slide down as elegantly as I can, pulling my feet to the side and slide my stilettos off. My feet almost sing with gratitude at being released from their tight prison after a night spending too much time on them. I rest my arm over the back of the couch to appear more relaxed than I am, and watch him getting mugs out ready, looking oddly domestic for him. He keeps glancing my way with a little unsure glimmer on that face and it adds to the dampening effect on my upset.

I think he’s genuinely surprised that I thought he would end us, which smooths over a little of my anger even more.

“Santagato isn’t behind the attempted abduction of you.” It comes out so unexpectedly. A random statement breaking the silence between us. I literally gawp at him as he continues readying my mug with a tea bag, taken aback by that. Stunned.

“What? He said that?” I blink at him in utter disbelief, heart plummeting once more, wondering if he would believe the man denying it.

“I didn’t ask him, or for any favours either. The conversation took an early turn which cemented the fact it wasn’t him.” Alexi turns and walks towards me to let the coffee machine do its thing and comes and sits down right beside me, pulling my free hand into his lap and surrounds it with both of his snugly. Capturing me and wiping away even more of my hostility with such an affectionate touch. A reminder of last night and this morning which thaws my frost some more.

“I … umm … what?” It’s all that comes out of my stupefied mouth as my brain tries to catch up, distracted by the warmth of those strong hands and how they dwarf mine gently. The immense sense of overwhelming relief that he’s back with me, not a hostile nasty-mouthed prick, but this one. Hand holding and I love you, and I realise I’ve been so overwrought all day with the fear he was a complete figment of my imagination all along that it was manifesting in getting ready to dump him and run. That it was all a lie and I was setting myself up for heartbreak all over again.

I am an insecure mess.

But he’s here, looking at me with that gentle calm face, eyes softer, tone lower, hands on mine. I exhale and let it all go in one ‘close to tears’ breath I’ve been holding in all day. Not all the way to forgiveness, but he’s right, I knew why and got so caught up in the emotion of it all.

“Santagato didn’t come to see me because of what happened with his son. He came to ask for intel. His mistress was found floating in the river at dawn and he doesn’t think it was suicide.”

The blood literally drains from my face, pulled back from my selfish thoughts as I watch Alexi’s expression turn completely deadpan, his whole manner slowing down to that scary precise way he has when he is outwardly controlling all signs of emotion. He doesn’t want to give me a reason to freak out.

It’s a huge reason to do so though and his reaction, the deathly seriousness of it, only brings on the freak-out faster. I stop breathing and grip his fingers so tightly I cut off blood circulation.

“A few weeks ago, Dimitri Carmichael, another family head, found his long-term submissive hanging in her apartment. At the time they thought it was suicide, but it’s looking a little too coincidental. Going after the mistresses of the most powerful men in New York. Add your attempted abduction as a possibility, and it looks a little less random and more premeditated and specific.”

I choke on a cough while trying to inhale and panic as I try to breathe, words tumbling out painfully.

“Why them, us? Why not families or wives?” I lean forward to cough it out shifting my whole body to a sitting position as I attempt to catch my breath and Alexi places a warm hand on my back and rubs it to help soothe me. His flat palm working smoothly in circles and giving me something to cling to, to focus on as I stop myself from outright hyperventilation. Fear turning me cold as it sinks in that he was right all along, and a real threat has been looming over me all this time.

“They are sending a message, not trying to start a war. No mob boss would retaliate over a meaningless piece of skirt.”

This gets a gasping wide-eyed look thrown his way, that hint of venomous anger returning, and I sit up harshly.

“I forgot … in your world unless you marry us then we are worthless and at the bottom of the pecking order. Disposable commodities you don’t give a shit about.” I sound furious even though I know it’s not his fault. That he cares about me. It’s just how it is. Women in this game are meaningless and easy to replace. Like I was. His show downstairs in front of Santagato is the norm for women like me and only

reminds me that he isn’t the norm with me. I matter, even if he was being a complete idiot. The proof is right here now.

Whores are ten-a-penny to a man with power and money. Only wives and family have any value or hold any sort of stance where respect is concerned. Whoever is going after the women in their lives know this and see them as disposable toys that won’t harbour any real come back.

“Well, that is an option. Would take you out of the firing line.” His solution earns him my fierce snapping back in.

I glare at him this time as he takes all the romance out of what would be him suggesting marriage and shake my head angrily. I won’t do something as drastic as that just to stay safe. Hurt that, to him, marriage would be a useful tool rather than a need to spend his life with me.

“I’ll pass on your dutiful plan. Don’t do me any favours!” I snap under my breath, aching inside a little too much at something so dumb. It’s not that I ever thought about marriage, ever, or is even something I want, it’s just something like that should not be a second thought resolution to a problem like this. It should mean something.

Alexi just sighs at me, sensing this is not the mood I need to be in to go down that route and carries on instead.

“Whoever is behind this, they know how it works and is close enough to have specifics on who we are fucking. They had to have seen us together to click that you and I had merit. Back then, we were … complicated, but they still knew I cared about you.”

I feel like everything just stops, including time and my heartbeat as my anger falls away once more, shocked out of me with real fear. It slides down to my feet along with my body warmth and my security and puddles on the floor limply.

“So, they might try again? I might not be safe?”

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.