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

The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) Chapter 108

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‘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.

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