The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

‘I wish I could; you have no idea.’ Alexi slumps back into his seat and just stares at the ceiling for a moment, deflated and almost
exhausted. His brimming prick has subsided and he seems a hell of a lot less aggressive so quickly. I know it’s an act and I don’t
buy anything he says.
‘So, it’s my fault now is it? ... Some weird pull to make my life an endless misery?’ I laugh sardonically, enraged at such a stupid
statement.
Fucking prick.
Alexi looks across at the people climbing over seats to get closer together and the merry atmosphere and sighs again. His whole
demeanour has lost that intimidation and he just seems like he did when we arrived, only not so happy anymore.
‘You have no clue, London. Can we stop fighting and just forget this shit until tomorrow? I brought you here to have fun, not a
battle, not drama and you upset. I brought you because I am trying to treat you how you deserve to be treated. I am TRYING to
make you feel like I want you in my life, even if you don’t see it. I don’t do words ... I act. I show, not tell. I’m not the best when it
comes to talking, about anything ... but I’m trying, Cam. ’
He turns back to me and it completely shuts me up, all my feelings falling into a heavy pit into my shoes as his words render me
speechless. He’s looking at me, and for a moment a flicker of something is there. A look at me that makes my heart flip over, a
look so similar to how Gino looked at Alessandra, a small speck of something warm, longing looks, and then BAM ... it’s gone
and there’s nothing once more. No anger, no emotion, just a blank look that tells me he’s closed up back inside his head but his
words seemed genuine.
My rage fizzles a little but I’m not that dumb to let my guard down. With him, it will always be up. He lies, it’s second nature and I
know it.
Pondering the meaning, too emotionally distraught to think about this right now, and aware this isn’t the best place for an all-out
screaming match, I let it go. He is Alexi after all, and we have an audience. I wouldn’t put it past him to gag me, tie me up and
stuff me in the overhead locker for the rest of this trip.
I glance past him at his family and relent.
‘You have a funny way of showing it then! Fine ... Truce. Not that I believe you, but because I cannot be bothered with this
anymore and you are giving me a headache and killing my buzz.’ Now I am the one sulking and being childish and when Alexi
leans out and drags two glasses from the table across the aisle to come back with, I take one with a glare. Accepting the drink

but letting him know he still pisses me off and this isn’t over. I can’t ever trust him. A temporary lull in our war means nothing. I
need time to regroup and come back stronger.
He clinks his glass against the top of mine and throws me a weird look.
‘To us!’ He says drily, sarcastically and I just eyeroll dramatically. Getting my crazy under control and finding Camilla’s cold sass
instead.
‘Match made in hell; Just fucking perfect.’
I down my drink in one and push the empty glass on the table in front of me briskly, turning to stare out of the window instead of
at him, and he falls silent beside me and lets out a subtle heavy sigh.
The rest of the plane ride is short and silent between us. We stay seated together, but I stare out the window and act like I am
engrossed in watching the nothing in the darkness and just watch aimlessly for city lights. Alexi stays with me, quietly listening to
his family and occasionally joining in across the aisle to chat without really returning to the party—an uneasy vibe between us.
I don’t care. I wish he would move and leave me be, but he seems oblivious to what I want. We are close to landing anyway so it
isn’t that much longer before we do, and Alexi seems introverted and sulky, no longer in the mood to join the fun in any real way.
I guess our row has killed his mood but I have no remorse over what he started.
He’s still a shit head.
I just feel numb and tired and have no will to get merry anymore.
When we depart quickly from the plane everyone is shuttled in a bus to a nearby five-star hotel they all seem very familiar with
and left to get ready. Much to my shock, considering how well I know him, Alexi has booked me my own room next to his, but not
connected by internal doors. He ushers me there, carrying my bag for me in our weird moody silence, and then deposits me
without any fuss; Handing me my key card as he wanders to his own without a second glance. No smile, no verbal, nothing. Just
directed, deposited and deserted.
I guess he is still in the mother of all moods ... Sulking or something.
I don’t spend much time pondering that but get showered as quickly as I can, knowing we are heading right back out and not
lingering in our rooms. It doesn’t take me long to get glamorous, seeing as speed prepping is a skill I acquired over the years. I
mean, when you are paid by the hour and want to get out as soon as your client pays you for his fuck, you get your ass ready in

a heartbeat and leg it before he expects extras. A lot of men get buyer’s remorse once the money leaves their hands and no
longer agree they should pay for sex.
As soon as I am ready I wander out to the hall to see if Alexi is out here yet and catch him leaving his room too, his eyes running
over my short sparkly number and high strappy shoes with more than an appreciative glance. He doesn’t seem as frosty now
and my own mood is marginally lifted from the process of doing my hair and makeup. It’s always been a calming pastime that I
enjoyed. Turning plain jane into supermodel. It makes me feel better.
It’s obvious he likes what he sees and that flat expression warms a little around the edges. I feel a million dollars in this outfit and
I am hoping it puts the glitter back in my tight emotions. I haven’t found a reason to be happy about being here yet and the little
frown still lingering on his face just adds to that sense of foreboding. Both of us brewing I guess.
‘You look stunning. Silver is nice on you.’ Alexi surprises me by breaking the cold silence between us with a compliment and I
blink at him a little suspiciously. His furrowed brow smooths out as he scans the complete glittery number that moulds to my
body, and he hits me with a dimpled smile instead— A subtle one—It has an odd effect on my nerves.
‘Thanks. You paid for it.’ I add in response drily, eyeing him up in his all black getup; shirt, casual trousers and expensive matt
leather shoes. His leather jacket is back on and shades nestled in his hair even though it’s late evening and hardly sunny. It’s
darker than dark out there already.
I can grudgingly acknowledge he does look hot, as per usual, and yet he is still pissing me off by just breathing. Even if he’s back
to playing nice and applying the charm thickly, I cannot just move on the way he seems to.
‘Still pissed, huh?’ He walks towards me and casually holds out an arm for me to take, as though chivalry is a normal act for him,
but I just pull my silver leather clutch bag closer and shrug him away with a glare.
‘I’m not pissed. I’m nothing ... Let’s go.’ I answer haughtily, refusing to give in to his arsey self and lifting that defiant little chin of
mine in a show of ‘couldn’t care less’. I walk off first, leaving him standing as I head for the bank of lifts and Alexi follows
obediently; surprisingly, but I don’t stop to examine his compliance. I just want to get to our destination and let go with loud
music, dark lighting and lots of people. There’s no pressure for chit-chat in a nightclub and I might be able to lose him for a while
to go dance by myself if I am lucky. I always loved to dance my night away.
‘You know? ... You are hard work sometimes.’ It’s a slightly humorous comment, given in a light tone but I spin on him harshly.

‘Says you? Oh, my God, you are the most infuriating, mind-fucking person I have ever met in my life, and you have the nerve to
say I am hard work? How ironic!’ I snap at him and get madder when it’s met with a grin instead of that normal Alexi fire and
rage. He looks smugly cocky and just infuriatingly happy all of a sudden.
‘Mind-fucking? Is that a thing?’ He chuckles at me as though enamoured with how adorably cute I am being and tweaks my
cheek playfully. I flinch at the surprise gesture, eyes popping with the non-Alexi manoeuvre and blanch at the same time. It
infuriates me and I slap his hand away, no more amused with that than any of this conversation. I wonder if he has suffered a
bang to that thick bloody skull of his which resulted in a personality transplant. I mean, when the hell did he start pinching people
and acting like some goofy happy weirdo?
‘Piss off, Alexi.’ I have no other words. He is trying to goad me into whatever this is, and I am not playing ball. Alexi is all games
and smiles and I am not taking part in his highly suspicious and unnerving behaviour.
‘You know you are the only female I have ever known that is openly hostile towards me, no matter what I do? ... Well, maybe my
mother, but that’s a different kind of passive-aggressive.’ His tone is still light and breezy but I just frown hard and throw him an
impatient look, checking my phone for the time and ramming it back into my bag in a wave of frustration.
‘Why are you talking to me?’ I throw my bag under my arm abruptly, tucking it in tight and visualising Alexi’s head as I squish it
under my armpit; More than a little annoyed that we are not progressing to the lift like I want. Regardless of being angry with him,
I still need to wait on the tosser to escort me to our transport to the club. I have no clue where we are going and I don’t want to sit
here all night alone and bored like Billy no mates! I could have done that back home in the apartment and not wasted time and
effort making myself look red carpet ready just to stare at a hotel room walls.
‘That’s what friends do ... they talk to one another. It’s supposed to be nice.’ It’s a slight eyebrow raise and another oddly happy
smile and I just hit the sarcastic giggles. Ridiculous ‘are you mad’ sort of manic laughter that makes me wonder about my own
sanity. He’s not amusing, he’s deluded! He brings out the absolute worst in me sometimes.
‘Are you serious right now? Friends? On what planet, Alexi?’ I retort, hand on my hip as I scan him with a glare that is meant to
portray ‘I think you’re high right now’. I’m not impressed at all and just getting more fidgety and uptight every second we spend
loitering here and not making progress.