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!

to make a girl

leave.’’ I say huffily and just avoid 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

dancing with his arm around my waist, one hand holding mine, my other on his broad shoulder and this intimacy is

go and takes my hand a little too firmly to ever be confused as tender and walks me to the nearest old man while he tells them we are leaving. 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. Carrero just pats him on the back firmly and smiles. ’’She’s

* * *

back to Alexi’s grand house, nestled on its own little piece of land standing 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

once over, checking all who enter, and he dismisses them when we get inside. Nodding at Mico and sending silent messages with nothing but slight looks, he guides me upstairs without much conversation about it and I just do as

our return, I’m not really a cosy lounge

as the atmosphere thickened, and he stayed with eyes glued 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

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

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 a stand now. Before we get to his bedroom door and I can hightail it into mine as we pass. I’ll say goodnight and go to my own room. Be strong, be fierce, hate him and tell