The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Alexi looks at me for a long pause then softy exhales and looks down to break eye contact, eyebrows dipping further, and for a
second, he just looks weary and almost human ... A little lowering of his infernal armour to show something real. I just stay
rooted to my spot, cradling my odd gifts against my chest and can’t look away from him.
So much tension sizzling in the air.
‘Do you think I would give you half my club if my intention was to hurt you again?’ He doesn’t look me in the eyes this time, eyes
on his desk as he leans down and flattens his palm on the surface where I took a huge chunk out of the wood by throwing the
gun on it, but he doesn’t look annoyed. He just rests on his arms and leans forward, losing that intimidation in this casual stance
and I loosen my hold on the bundle in my arms.
I don’t know why, but the change in atmosphere and the way he’s acting lowers my guard too, and for once I feel like we are
having ourselves a truly honest conversation—Without malice.
‘I don’t know.’ It’s the truth, even if I shouldn’t be giving it to him.
‘I need you here. I know you can walk at any time, so I’m not going to make the same mistakes that I did. I know I’m responsible
for how it ended and I regret that, whether you believe me or not.’ I swallow hard as a lump lodges in my throat at his words, and
yet still cannot tear my eyes from his downward tilted face, watching intensely for truth. He seems to be sincere. My heart hitches
up in speed once more and the good old clammy hands come back, along with little flutters in my stomach. He really knows how
to get maximum reactions from me.
Finally, he comes back up at me and it’s like being caught in that spell all over again—the steady lock of soft eyes and a haunting
look that draws you in powerfully. Alexi has a gift for enamouring women and pulling you to him like a magnet with the subtlest of
actions, and I am not sure if that is what this is, or something deeper between us. He would be a great vampire. I shiver and
break it by looking away, never falling for that shit again, real or not. I can’t and won’t ever walk on that thin ice and try to kid
myself it can stand under the weight. My heart is not as strong as it once was thanks to him, so I need to be extra protective of it.
‘If that’s true then stick to the rules. No touching. Keep your distance. Let me do my job. I’ll learn to trust you one day if you stick
to what I ask.’ My voice is shaky and low and it’s obvious that I am getting emotional, stupidly letting him see, but this is what
he’s always been good at; Undermining my best-laid plans and screwing me up. My only defence is that he adheres to what I
have laid down.
‘Then you need to let me protect you in the ways I know how. Trust that in this I know better. This is my world, Cam; listen to me
when it comes to your safety. It’s the one area I have never given you reason to doubt me. You have to admit that when it came

to protecting you, you could always trust me to do it.’
He is almost pleading with me and I know I can’t argue with what he is saying. When shit hit the fan, he always looked after me.
He swooped in more than once to do so, and when things went sour, I always felt safe from the outside world around him.
I relent, letting the items drop to hang in front of my waist with a loose hold as heart and head finally join forces and I just feel
incredibly bad for making him upset. If that’s what this is.
‘Are you going to teach me how to fire it too?’ It’s my way of saying he wins. Backing down and accepting that in this, I trust him.
Mico may be willing to teach me, but Alexi is the one who wants to. If this is going to work then maybe I have to give a little. Get
used to working and being around him in some sort of amicable way.
My gut is telling me that this is his way of showing he is trying too, that maybe it is different from before.
‘I can take you to the shooting range as many times as you need to get comfy with it ... whenever you want. Bring it over here. I
don’t want you carrying it until you’re confident with it. It’s not loaded but still, it can stay in the safe until we can spend more time
with it and I at least want you to learn how to hold it properly before I leave.’ That soft haziness is lifting from his tone and
manner, and bossy pants is starting to move back in. Alexi in control is his comfort zone and he likes it when I don’t combat his
orders.
‘Who knew you would be Mr Gun safety?’ I jest a little to break the tension but do as he commands and walk back to him to hand
it over. He avoids touching me this time and takes it carefully.
Clicking and pushing something he pulls out an inner long sleeve from the handle and turns it around to show me an empty little
chamber, holder thing. Completely hollow and has nothing inside.
‘Not loaded. I wouldn’t put something dangerous in your hand until I knew you could handle it.’ He pushes it back into the space
it came from until it clicks and turns it to face me again, handle out for me to take expectantly. There is something a little sexy
about his easy handling of a weapon, even if it’s small for his hands, and I have to shake myself to stop gazing at him holding it.
He is far too comfortable with a firearm for my liking and it just reminds me that he carries one often.
‘Now hold it up and point it like a good girl to get used to how it feels. Move it around, get to know it. It needs to become an
extension to you so that you will never fear picking it up. You have to learn to trust that it can save your ass.’
I take it slowly and point it first at the wall then swing to him with a mischievous smile, trying for cocky, pointing at him for a
second and then lose my nerve as memory takes over and drop it to face down completely. A sudden flash of panic and

stomach-churning ache as I remember what that night felt like and have to choke back the well of emotion that threatens to make
me cry.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be comfy with this, it’s pointless,’ I say dejectedly.
Alexi doesn’t even flinch, even when it was facing him. Although he knew it was empty, it would still make me nervous if he
pointed an empty gun at me. He doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he drops back into that tender way of talking as though he realises
my barrier is more mental scarring than anything else.
‘It’s new to you; you’re not used to how it feels. You have a fear that will fade. Understandably. People assume handling a gun is
easy—it’s not. It comes with so many feelings and thoughts, and a huge responsibility. I promise you, there is nothing to be afraid
of with this gun, in this room, with me. I would never let anything happen to you. Pick it up and point over there.’
What he says triggers a memory and as I try to pick out what it was in his sentence that stirred a weird spike in my chest, he
starts pushing me towards the wall again and tries to position me beside him. Head being pulled back from conversation to
actions.
He’s persistent anyway and I obey, tensing when he guides me by the waist to right against his side, but this time he doesn’t lean
against me as before and keeps the gap enough to let me breathe. Moving in to direct, this time without further touch, and I
forget all the previous row.
‘Drop it in height slightly; you want it level with your shoulder. Pull it in so you have control and both hands on it to keep it steady
until you get used to the weight.’ Alexi is in tutor mode and completely focused on how I am standing, eyes running over me as I
get acclimatise to it in my hand.
It feels weird and my nerves are still all over the place, body trembling, yet somehow with him right here making sure I can do
this, I feel better about it.
Knowing it’s empty, knowing he is very well versed in gun handling is somehow reassuring; I don’t miss the irony that Alexi can
have me here holding a gun, just months after that night, and make me feel utterly safe and in control.
He really is a head fuck and a half.
‘Okay, press here, that click and little catch. That’s your safety. When that’s on like it is, the gun won’t fire. I want you to flick it on
and off right now until you can do it without thinking ... an automatic response to picking up your gun. Otherwise, it’s pointless
even doing so.’ He directs me to a little lever that I can reach with my thumb and I do as he says. Flicking it on and off until my

thumb gets tired from the effort and my whole hand aches from fatigue. I glance up at him; his eyes focused on my hand and
take a moment to really study his profile when he is so still and transfixed.
He’s the exact same as he was months ago. Clean-shaven, a little too gorgeous for mere mortals, with soulless grey eyes, yet
there’s a hint of something new I never noticed before.
He feels my eyes on him and glances at me for a second, locking onto my blues and I see it more intensely. A weird softness in
place of what used to be utter cold. It’s around his eyes, his mouth, that icy, harsh and sadistic that I always saw there seems to
have calmed a little, and when he looks at me, instead of hatred, I can’t decipher what is there instead. Something that turns my
insides to mush. I lose my nerve and look back at the gun, heart fluttering strangely and once again a little breathless ... I lose
my courage.
‘It’s heavy and my arms are getting sore. Can we pick this up tomorrow Lexi? I need to start making calls on my to-do list.’ I
appeal to that kinder side I feel coming from him in a bid to escape.
‘Lexi?’ That cute boy smile hits me from far right and is completely unexpected.
‘I meant ... Alexi,’ I stutter and instantly flush. I didn’t mean to shorten his name to sound affectionate, it was a slip of the tongue
and his disarming response signals end of gun lesson. I hand it over with a quick tight smile and avoid looking at him directly.
Panic over taking as things get weird. Even Alexi seems to visibly shake himself and turns as awkwardly as me.
‘I like it. I have dinner plans so yeah; I need to get going.’ He avoids looking at me.
‘Yeah, whatever. So, till tomorrow. I have things to do now.’ I slide away and keep my eyes on the ground as I walk, high tailing it
away from him and I know I am running—mentally and emotionally. Like Speedy Gonzales at a hundred miles an hour.
‘Tomorrow,’ He repeats after me, his eyes flicking to my departing body as I throw him back a flash of smile and a wave, getting
to the door and realise I should take some papers with me to look over upstairs. I am completely aware of the atmosphere and
tension getting too heavy to breathe between us, and watch absent-mindedly as though I have no idea how to act. He takes
everything from his desk and I assume it’s all going back into his safe.
I don’t even want to dissect those last seconds and just focus on what I have to get done tonight.
I figure I should grab my phone and clipboard and work through the calls and arrangements I need to make. I also have to track
down a marble restorer to fix the bloody bar if that is even possible. Replacing it is costly and time-consuming and we had to wait
eight weeks the last time before they came and fitted it.

That got a little too weird for me and the best thing to do when it gets like that is to remove myself from anywhere near him. Take
myself out of the equation and give him space until it passes.
‘I need to stay upstairs tonight.’ He adds it; just as I swipe the stuff I want from the spare desk and head to the door. My hand
halts on the handle, stomach dropping like a lead weight, and I fumble. This is the last thing I need, and I can hardly tell him he
can’t stay in his own apartment after he literally just showed me he bought me a gun out of the need to protect me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Bastard is softening my resolve and I don’t like it.
‘Sure, whatever. I’ll keep out of your way.’ I try to sound disinterested and yank the door open instead. Making sure he knows it
will be what it will be—Him in his room and me in mine. No confusion about that. Act like I do not give a rat’s arse and him
staying there has absolutely no effect on me whatsoever! In case he’s testing me. I just hope I have the strength to deal with him
bringing a playmate.
‘I can deal with that.’ The soft tone is almost sexy, and I drown out that husky devil voice and march out of the office instead.
Determined to get myself back on top and focus on the club.
I shut my brain off as efficiently as possible and refuse to pull apart my thoughts and feelings as my insides spiral out of control.
I wave at Mico as I pass and get a charming smile and wave back before I hit the lift, walking in when it opens and turn to rest
against the back wall.
As I do so my eyes automatically pan in the open door of the office facing me, and I see Alexi standing looking right back. Hands
in his pockets and casually watching me as if he has nothing better to be doing. It makes me uncomfortable, and then he smiles
softly at me as the door closes and I swear my heart flips over.
Fuck.