Novel Name : The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) Chapter 85

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Mico sighs heavily.

‘He’s not going to do anything to you, I swear. Trust me. I wouldn’t have brought him if I thought he was

going to hurt you in any way, and he knows that if he scares you, I will break his face.’ There is

something in Mico’s tone that says he isn’t lying to me and I silence my insta-response of no and sit for

a moment trying to calm myself down.

‘Why can’t he just leave me alone?’ I sulk weakly, sounding fragile and quiet. Sighing and hating how

tired all of this is making me. The hours ticking away and I still have to try and sleep before I need to

get up for work. At this rate that’s not going to happen and I cannot even face the thought of a ten-hour

shift on little sleep and a raging fever.

‘Because he spent four months trying to find you and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by.’

That shuts me up and I blink up at the door, disbelieving what I heard, and not sure if it’s a ploy to make

me more open to talking. He didn’t act like someone who was pleased to have found me. He acted very

much like the same sadistic arse he has always been. Annoyed one of his toys lashed back.I doubt it’s

true … unless he has another reason or changed his mind about my debt.He can’t. He wiped it clean,

he cannot backtrack now.

We have nothing to talk about.

‘I’m going.’ Mico taps the door as a way of signalling goodbye and I panic, jumping up to chase him

impulsively and not stay here alone with Alexi. Yanking the door open and high tailing it after him,

breathless once more with tight insides as sheer fear overtakes me. Except I come smack bang into

Alexi’s chest and do an ever-graceful toppling act backwards onto my arse; arms frantically waving as I

land with a thud. He wasn’t expecting me to come dashing out either, and he stumbles back from the

collision before righting himself and walking to where I’m splayed on the floor like an immobile infant.

Heart bouncing through my chest and bum bruising instantly from impact … I’m winded and sprawled

out like an invalid.

He reaches out a hand to me in a gesture to help me up, but I lift my foot and shove it away before

rolling to get up on my own. Mico throws me an exasperated look as he disappears out the door, and I

am left alone with Alexi and the guy still screwing and doing God knows what to the door frame. He is

taking a very long time and trying hard to ignore this weird dynamic we have going on.

‘I’m sorry.’ Alexi moves back to give me space and I just lift my chin higher and walk past him, acting

like I couldn’t give a toss that he is still here and trying not to rub my arse as I do so. I won’t give him

the satisfaction of knowing that actually hurt me.

Old Camilla showing an inkling of herself when caught in his presence. I am ruffled, breathless and

inwardly aching in every way from being poorly and exerting too much energy already, but he doesn’t

need to know it.

‘What do you want?’ I have no space for niceties and no energy to spend on playing polite with the

arsehole in my apartment. It’s already been proven we rub each other the wrong way and this will only

end badly.

Despite that, I really want to ask him if it’s true that he has been looking for me, but my pride won’t let

me. I shouldn’t care … I don’t care … it means nothing. Just changed his mind about my debt and

letting a possession loose before realising he didn’t want to. That’s all it will be. He hates to lose. I have

no illusions about who and what he is anymore. I was never more than a plaything that he got bored of,

and he is only here because he has some demented idea I can do something for him again. Not likely.

‘To talk … to offer you something that will help both of us.’ He seems oddly submissive now, and even

though his first snappy greeting alerting me of his presence was hostility thereafter, he now seems to

be following me around like a puppy as I do my best to ignore his presence. His initial anger and

aggressive aura have faded into nothing, and instead, there’s a weird calm to him that’s trying to have

an effect on me. I’m not stupid though and I know he likes to play with your mind in any way he can.He

seems different somehow and I guess maybe it’s because he has lost all his shine and intimidation

over me. I am not his anymore, and he cannot do a damn thing to me without my permission. He lost

his power and now I see him for what he is.

Even if I can’t deny that he still has an effect on me.

Every hair on my body is standing on end, skin goose bumped and insides in knots from him just being

near me again. I hate him all the more for it. That all it takes is getting close and I lose all control of

bodily reactions around him. Clearly still feel something for him, despite myself.

Idiot!

‘What could you possibly have that I would want?’ I turn on him, determined not to look weak when he’s

in my face again. It’s the last time I lose all ounces of self-respect in the presence of this man and I’ll be

damned if I do it again. I will never let myself sink so low for anyone, and he won’t see me vulnerable

again for as long as I live. I need to just stop biting when he pushes me.

‘Your job back.’

‘What?’ I blurt out in complete disbelief, half blinking as my brain catches up and half shocked into

numbness. He has his eyes locked on me, standing a foot away, suffocating me with his sheer size but

I stand my ground and do the only thing I can do.

I burst out laughing because he surely isn’t being serious, and this has to be the single most ridiculous

thing I have ever heard in my life. Into comical hysterics so intense I instantly bend double as tears fill

my eyes and struggle to breathe through snorts. It’s not the most ladylike way to laugh at your enemy,

but it’s genuine and it feels good to do it right in his face. My ribs are aching with the sudden exertion

and he just stands stock still, staring at me as though he doesn’t understand the joke which only makes

it all the funnier.

I hear him sigh heavily as I carry on, but he still says nothing at all and I have to compose myself to be

able to talk, standing upright while holding my side. I take shallow breaths to calm myself and wipe my

eyes with the back of my hand, flinching at the pain from my busted face.

‘Now I know this is a joke. Nice try though. You almost had me there. What do you really want?’ I try

and calm myself, more escapee tears from giggling so hard, but he is persistent in that starchy serious

mood, eyes following me in a very deadpan face, standing completely still and unreadable. He doesn’t

crack one tiny smile.

It’s weird just how calm and quiet he is being, for him. Especially after our little drama of minutes ago

where he was chasing me around the room with a will to throttle me, and now he’s just appraising my

reaction with a sombre looking cute boy frown and a weird softness around his eyes. I’m not sure I like

the way he is looking at me or the drastic change of tactic which rouses suspicion. It completely sobers

me as I get an inkling of something being off with him and finally right myself back to sanity. Even Alexi

from the first days of knowing him was never this unaffected by me throwing laughing fits at something

he said.

He was confident and commanding and had no qualms about bossing me around and telling me how

things were going to go or being very verbally pissed. This version in front of me suddenly seems

apprehensive, trying not to appear too intimidating, and I know somewhere in that head of his there’s a

motive for how he’s being, there always is.

It’s Alexi after all!

‘You back IN my club, back AT the club. I need you to fix it.’ He swallows subtly, but I get the feeling

that he is actually being serious in this and it’s not a joke at all. There’s no hint of malice or smugness

from the tone or face. His demeanour … the way he’s not stopped staring at me since I turned around

and is annoyingly following my every movement as though his eyes are glued to me, it all screams lack

of sarcasm and every ounce truth. Alexi cannot seem to tear his focus from mine, scanning me

searchingly for a real answer. Waiting for it to sink in that he is not lying and it hits me strangely.

He knows once it sinks in that his proposal is something I may want; I might actually want to sit and talk

about this. I hate that he also knows it’s the one thing that can still spike my attention, even after what

happened between us. That club was my baby, my heart and soul, and the thought that they have

fucked it up somehow jars me—a tiny sliver of care that it’s running badly and suffering without me.

I know it’s dumb. It’s not a person or a living thing, but it was mine. I built and nurtured it and honed it to

perfect running. It was something I had pride in and cared about, and he’s here because they have hurt

it in some way and now it’s broken without me.

‘What’s wrong with it? What have you done?’ It’s the only thing I care about, and I’m trying so hard to

ignore the sweaty, clammy feeling in my hands or the way my heart is trying to escape through my

chest the longer I am exposed to his intense staring. It’s like he is trying to pick me apart. Aware with

every passing second that it’s just him and me alone finally. Mico is gone and the carpenter has

disappeared back out into the hallway.

I hate that I look like a homeless wench from the back woods, and he looks, well, like him. Tailored,

groomed, clean-shaven and sexy as hell, dare I admit it. Talk about feeling inferior and unprepared for

a little cosy business talk. It gives him the upper hand.

I fucking hate him.

‘It’s failing … it’s not the same. Clientele is dropping off and it’s causing me nothing but headaches in

the running. It’s losing money like crazy.’

Alexi finally releases that captive hold he has on me and walks away to sit down on the now cleared

couch of the room behind us. Upside to lobbing it all at him, I guess. He walks to it and sits, leaning

forward to put his elbows on his knees and watches me in a very casual pose more befitting Gino than

him. I think he expects me to follow as though we are really going to talk this out.

I, however, am not relaxing around this demon just yet; I cross my arms across my chest and stay

exactly where I am … not trusting him, ever again. I would rather stick pokers in my eyes than believe

anything he says to me.

‘Firstly, you spent a great amount of effort evicting me from that same club. You did everything to get rid

of me and now you’re here expecting me to just forgive and forget and crawl back?’ I point out moodily,

tone snippy and chin up. I may not look like the old brassy redhead, but she still lives inside me. Alexi

brings her out in crazy fashion!

‘Things are different,’ he answers calmly, giving nothing away, and I just furrow my brow.

‘Hmm … Secondly, why would I come back to such job insecurity a second time? Dependent on your

moods I could be out on my arse again just as quickly, as soon as I sort it out.’ I spit it a little

aggressively this time, neither of us moving from our stand-off positions.

‘I would make sure you had job security … a contract prohibiting me from doing it again.’ His eyes drop

to the floor for a second and I just narrow my gaze as I watch him. Looking for his tells and mannerisms

to get a clue as to what’s going on in that wicked brain; I see nothing.

‘There’s no one else in New York with my skill set, probably better, who can come be your skivvy?’ I

question seriously; pretty sure that I am not the only capable one.

‘I don’t want anyone else. You built it, you made it work, and it has you all over it. Why would I choose

someone else to fix what you can fix? It’s limping … I need you to patch it back up.’ Alexi comes back

to settle those pale greys on me studiously and I stare right back undeterred, pushing all those

overwhelming feelings down deep. Unable to decipher if they are for him or the topic, but I am not

backing down from trying to eat into his head with my own penetrative gaze the way he is doing to me.

‘You left that second-grade classless hoe to run things, didn’t you? What was her name? Joyce?’

Sarcasm is back to being my friend and his little sigh tells me he is still not immune to my sass.

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