The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 72



‘‘I came to talk to you,’’ I mumble out through garbled sobs and stutters and watch as his jaw tightens and his brows furrow
devilishly. He looks anything but happy to see me and now I know what severe foolishness feels like as it floods through me at
speed.
‘’There’s nothing to say. Look at the state of you ... what the hell, Cam?’’ Alexi stalks towards me at speed and I instinctively
skate back on my arse and raise the bottle defensively. All he does is swipe it out of my hand and slam it on the counter over my
head as he stands over me, ignoring the fact I am curling into a little ball as he leans back to look at me.
‘’How much have you had to drink? Drunk and soaked ... Do you want to get sick again?’’ He demands, sounding like an angry
dad, and leans down to scrutinise me by grabbing my chin with two fingers, so he can angle my face and get a proper look at
me. He pulls my face from side to side while he scrutinises me and I slap his hand away, abhorring his touch and hating him for
everything, shoving him in the shoulder to get my space back, but he doesn’t move.
It never dawned on me that maybe I got this horrendously drunk because I was still sick, and it could account for how weak and
weird I feel on top of plain pissed.
‘’What does that matter? I’m a grown up, I can do what I want!’’ It’s a childish slurring mess and barely coherent as it falls out of
my mouth thoughtlessly. I’m digging in my heels because he is being his boorish cold self and he snarls at me with distaste.
‘’Sloppy drunk and irresponsible added to your list of assets. Well done, Cam.’’ He sounds like the bastarding sarcastic prick he
always is, and I wonder why I even thought I could have this out with him and get any attitude other than this. I try and ignore his
insult even though it bites and suddenly makes me ashamed of being this drunk.
It was stupid and not me, but isn’t this what he has done? Ground me down and made me become someone I never thought I
would be. I don’t even know who I am anymore!
He gets up and walks off, nodding at the girl to move away from the door, and jerks his head towards the couch. Like a good little
puppy, she obediently trots over and sits down while eyeing him up adoringly. Brainless, submissive, awaiting his every
command with pathetic enthusiasm. I cannot even look at her as Alexi looks out of his apartment door to check if we are alone,
before shutting it and us inside.
I glare at her hatefully, hating what she represents and why she is here. I was a fool for this man and he just reminded me of
that.

‘’How did you get in here?’’ He turns on me, more out of curiosity than accusation, but still very pissed and pulls my attention
back to him. I gaze at that enquiring, angry frown for a moment and then sigh heavily and relent. I wanted to talk so I may as well
grasp at his olive branch to do so, seeing as I half expected him to pick me up and bodily throw me out already.
‘’Your security is shit, and I have more assets than you give me credit for.’’ I pull myself up with the help of the cupboard handle
and get to my feet while reaching for the vodka bottle. I feel knocked by his appearance and reverting to my plan of staying
sloshed to get through this. I need something to give me the strength to deal with him and his fuckbuddy. I pull it over and lift it to
take another drink. Right now death by booze sounds like a great way to go and it would end the miserable existence known as
my life.
I barely get the neck to my lips when it’s yanked out of my hands, a firm grip on my upper arm pulls me back and away from the
counter top, so I sway badly and almost topple over, gasping with the fright he gives me.
‘‘What the ...?’’ I grasp out to steady myself, clinging to him as he throws the bottle into the sink with a clattering smash, shards
and liquid spraying everywhere, and he ruins any chance of me drinking any more vodka.
‘’Enough booze, you can barely stand. You are a mess! What the hell were you thinking coming here and getting this smashed?
What the fuck are you doing?’’ Alexi swings me to face him, so my hands meet his hard chest automatically to steady myself,
and it is like an emotional trigger. Close proximity, touching him, and he’s not being the worst kind of arsehole, yet. He’s sort of
being semi normal for him and it just hits home why I did come here.
‘’I love you.’’ I blurt it out stupidly, insanely and through a mass of snot and tears and complete incoherent drunkenness. I have
no idea why this sudden declaration is what I choose to answer with, but he freezes and looks at me with a completely deadpan
expression that pretty much kills all weird hopes that maybe, just maybe, he cares.
The long pause of unreadable silence almost kills me, but he does loosen his grip on my arm and just stands looking at me until I
feel like I may shrivel from the exposure to those soulless eyes.
‘’I thought you had more class than that ... Is this the level of skill you have? A love declaration, drunken tears and an invasion
on my apartment. Are you really that desperate?’’
And there he is, son of a bitch, sadistic and cruel all in one venomous sentence as he lets go of me to stumble on my own jelly
legs. As though I am something disgusting to the touch. He steps back and just glares at me as I sway on my feet, tears hitting
harder than before and that aching spiking pain in my tummy spreads to my chest and throat.

‘‘It’s not a lie, why do you think I am this drunk and this upset? You keep pushing me out of your life.’’ I sound desperate and I
sound pathetic—even I can hear it, and I cannot stop the torrent of tears rolling down my cheeks. I have never allowed myself to
be this way in front of any man since Rick raped me in my own home. He has no idea how far from a game plan this is. I have no
plan at all.
Alexi starts clapping his hands in a soft applause, startling me with a jump, and he smirks at me coldly. It’s not exactly the
reaction I was expecting, and it stills my tears for a moment as I just stare right back at him, bleeding out from my heart.
Completely confused at his response.
‘‘Bravo, great performance baby ... really had me hook line and sinker for sure! Now ... What exactly is it you want, so we can
avoid the amateur dramatics and get down to the point? I don’t do manipulation and if you think I’ll be swayed by this shit, you’re
wrong. I don’t give a fuck about you and I have plans, so spit it out.’’ He moves in close enough to say it in my face with meaning
and hatred, then moves away and heads past me to go retrieve a bottle of whisky from the counter and pours himself a drink,
oblivious to my emotional distress.
He really is a hard-hearted prick. I cast my eyes over blondie on her perch, who is staring at her nails and looking completely
smug about what’s happening, and throw her a filthy look. She’s all fake nails, fake hair, fake tits and fake lips, under a cheap
slutty dress and fake designer shoes. A pale reflection of what I offered him.
I hate her as much as I hate myself right now and I wish I had more sense than to come and do this. This is exactly how I should
have known it would be.
‘’I just want you to care.’’ I turn back to watch him and try like crazy to stop the waterfall pouring down my face, but he has a
knack of finding new ways to pull pain from deep within me and inflict it in higher doses. If I thought I was crushed with it before
he walked in, I’m at new levels now and struggling to breathe.
‘‘Well I don’t, in fact, since I met you my life has been one constant headache, and I am looking forward to never laying eyes on
you again. Does that sound like someone who gives a shit about you, London?’’ His cruelty and the way he looks at me over his
shoulder before he throws his drink down his throat almost ends me and I break into a thousand pieces once again, like the
many other times he has done this.
‘‘Why do you have to be this way? Why are you so hateful towards me? What did I ever do to you to deserve this?’’ It’s out in a
rush of trembling words, tripping over each other and almost incoherent in a garbled mess. I sound whiny and pathetic almost on

my knees with the effort of keeping the room still, everything spinning away from me as alcohol courses through my system and
makes this situation a whole lot worse.
‘‘Maybe because you think you are more important than any of the other women in my life and push past your station at every
opportunity. You need a reality check ... You are nothing but a trashy whore who let me fuck you more than once and can’t
accept that’s all this has been. Money and sex, and now I’m done with you.’’ He shrugs me away and turns back to pour himself
a second drink, jaw tight and brows dipped, not even trying to conceal his anger at me.


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