The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Sliding a possessive arm around my waist, a little tightly and almost frog marches me to the dance floor. He does an up and down look of my dress with obvious disdain and tenses that square jaw of his. ‘‘I hate this fucking dress you look like a hooker.’’ He is all charm tonight isn’t he?

‘’Thank you, that’s the look I was going for.’’ I answer smugly as he hauls me into position on the floor and starts dancing me slowly to a very boring piece of classical music, pulling me into his command and almost lifting me off my feet with how tightly I’m held. It’s hardly loving or comfortable and is just an aggressive show of how pissed he is at me.

‘’You think I am not tallying all this shit up in my head … for later?’’ He almost growls it with furrowed brows and tone husky as hell as my blood turns to ice in my veins. Heartbeat escalating as weakness waves through me. I think they call that a wave of fear, yet I lift my chin and smile. ‘’Shock … Alexi is thinking up ways to put me back in my place, should I be scared?’’ I shouldn’t poke the bear, but he just infuriates me at every turn and even if I am palpating with nerves, I am no longer going to show him that he affects me. Even if I feel sick with the fact he does.

‘’The club isn’t the only place I have shackles installed.’’ He rasps and that does shut me up, face dropping and all bravado too. He’s a prick that knows how to make me shit myself, and I wouldn’t put it past him to tie me up and do heinous things to me in the name of punishment. I think he gets off on it.

‘’You’re starting to lose your cool Carrero. Outright threats and angry tones, I think you might be coming down with something serious.’’ I jest at him, all fake attitude, while my heart pounds like a war drum. Alexi just smiles salaciously.

‘‘You forget how much of you I can feel right now. Smart mouth, yet your body is in panic mode, you’re running scared, London. So I can’t be losing that much of my edge.’’ He is a complete arsehole and I look away across the room to avoid the amusement and arrogance all over his smug arse face. I hate how clever the Tosser can be.

‘’Why did you bring me here? If all you are going to do is be a prick all night.’’ I can feel the welt of tears brimming and it’s so stupid, crying over him. Crying because of him and how much of an arsehole he can be. This is not who I am or the girl I have ever been. I rise above men and their games and laugh in their face with no effect whatsoever. I don’t get why he is any different and I hate that I cannot control it. The sooner he leaves me here the better. I need him out of my life while I get a handle on the power he has over me.

‘‘I wanted some arm candy and it looks out of place if I don’t bring a date. You were easier than finding a new one for tonight on short notice.’’

Wanker!

how to make

looking at him at all. Wounded that he just gets to me and hating the fact that I am just now one of his many ‘‘women’’ and I have lost my use in his club that separated me from the rest. I know he’s not a man you get easy access to any day of the week and my use meant I got a free pass to see him anytime I wanted. Now I am being refiled under the ‘‘pick her up when I feel the itch

one hand holding mine, my other on his

Oldie gives me the once over with his eyes and that smarmy grin as he whispers something in Alexi’s ear—it’s obvious to what he’s saying.

* * *

back from other huge houses in the street. It’s a poster child for suburban living and wealthy lifestyles and is picturesque in a glamorous way. It’s already lit up with the men who stayed behind and looks almost welcoming despite

future security hanging around inside greet us with the once over, checking all who enter, and he dismisses them when we get inside. Nodding at Mico and sending silent messages with nothing but

being ushered right upstairs upon our return, I’m not really a cosy lounge

to his phone amid throes of gripping texts it seems. He never looked my way once and it just heightened my anxiety for getting back here; I know that he’s pissed and have no clue what is going on in that head of his, nor am I eager to find out. He’s someone who holds onto his little grudges, and he does like the added suspense of making you sweat it out a little. He’s deliberately giving me the silent treatment to heighten my nerves and

arrangements, in the fact he’s pushing me straight to the bedroom, and I am willing myself to be firm, hold my ground and make him sleep anywhere other than with me. He is holding fast, walking in silence along the carpeted and dimly lit hall but I can tell with the way he is cajoling where I

sex with me because he has deemed it as the plan and what he wants, I must break this part of the deal and not let it happen again; show him he does not own me like he does his other bimbos and sluts. He is gaining way too much control, and sex is a weapon he is effective with. I know that he is way too persuasive when he sets his mind on seduction, and I am way too weak for him, so I need to make