The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

‘So, what now? He just lets me get away with threatening him? I get handed to you and forgotten?’ My voice is harsh yet low and I whisper hoarsely at him, aware that the door is open and you never know what night staff are still close by.

Even I don’t believe that will be the outcome. Alexi is one to exact revenge and punishment for far less crimes. He won’t forget that I pulled his own gun on him and held it to his heart. He would never allow me to go without some sort of reckoning for such gross behaviour. I mean the guy flipped over me throwing salad at him; I have no doubt pointing his gun at his heart is a far worse crime. That comes with a far worse punishment.

‘He knows you weren’t trying to kill him. You were scared, upset … drunk.’ Mico turns his attention back to me and just looks helpless. Smoothing the edge of my bedclothes in an awkward manner and tapping his thumb on the over bed table at the foot. That infuriating Alexi trait and I glance away, pain slicing my soul in two. I hate that he still gets to me when he is not even here.

‘So, what does that mean? I’m forgiven? … life goes on. A pitiful little show from a desperate plaything.’

I told him I loved him … and he destroyed me for it.

‘No.’ Mico inhales heavily, and yet I hold my breath and just eye him in question, tensing on the answer to what I am waking up to.

Where do I go from here? What does Alexi do with me now?

‘Alexi has told me to release you, all debt wiped. You go your way, we go ours. It’s over Camilla. You’re free.’ Mico sighs heavily as though somehow that’s a relief for him rather than me, and I frown trying to take it in.

I don’t know how to react. Everything in me just falls eerily silent and I blink at him in disbelief. Numb inside so suddenly as my mind tries to understand the words that have just come out of his mouth.

‘Just like that? Fifty grand struck off.’ I sound as disbelieving as I feel. Alternate universe flying in to smack me in the head.

I can’t believe that something Alexi held over me to keep me in his clutches is now dismissed as nothing, now that he has broken me. I’m dropped like an unwanted and used toy. I have lost the fun value, I guess. Alexi no longer wants a toy that’s cracked … he has new playthings to ruin. Where is the fun in that?

‘It’s pocket change to him. Take this opportunity to start a new life somewhere far away from the name Carrero. Forget him, forget us and get off this path.’ Mico watches me carefully, that warmth on his face showing through, and his voice reflects a hint of affection for me.

He is my first real friend in life. Pity he comes connected to that bastard cousin of his. Looks enough like him, sounds like him, and when he’s in shadow and his eyes are not as green as they normally are, he can pull expressions just like him.

The tears bite my eyes and that stubborn aching throb inside of me raises its ugly head. Traumatised for so many reasons.

Everything I felt last night washing over me as I become more lucid and in tune with my surroundings. Every memory of what happened almost crystal clear as the minutes roll by and I cringe at my own behaviour.

I am appalled that I genuinely tried to kill myself.

I am so god damn stupid. I swore I would never let a man push me over the edge, and yet here I am. One fucking man undid all of me and sent me spiralling out of control. I am no better than my mother with her pathetic addiction to prick men with control issues and abuse fetishes.

I refuse to keep being a victim in my own tragedy.

have no intention of ever coming back. Alexi is a dirty word to me and I scorn the day I ever laid eyes on him. He doesn’t have to worry about me showing up anymore. I’m done. Maybe I just needed a knock to the head to help me think straight and realise I should stay a

and find that cold part of my

lets no man fuck with

and I

up and moves away from the bed. Silent and stone-faced, unreadable, much like his bastard cousin and just ponders me for a moment. Nothing on that expression to give his

to hide the grimace that almost cringes

pocket and gently throws it to land in my lap, a heavy thud of a weighty packet and I flinch with

new start.’ He jests without any real humour behind the empty smile and I glance from him to the package in question. Nervous but

given me reason to be so when it comes to

pile of one-hundred-dollar notes jam-packed into such a small vessel. It’s crammed full. There has to be thousands here. Fifty at least, and I blink up at

you giving me this?’ My voice

feels responsible; it’s your foot up

stomach, that one word that leaves a sour taste in my mouth pushes everything else aside

even letting me touch it. Feeling

tell him … I survived on my own my whole life; I don’t need his handouts to start over. I can do it on

pitch and scowling looks. My anger isn’t

tries for a defensive low tone, but I start shaking my head impulsively, even though it makes my headache worse

anger peaks, sitting up higher in bed as that fire

he did, that he still had to bail me out and throw me a life saver. He can fuck off. I don’t need anything from him ever again.

finish about two levels louder and higher, as rage consumes me, and he just continues to stand there like the silent black statue I know he can be. Unfazed by bat shit crazy Camilla! It

and let it feed and fuel my willpower. He may have

this is …’

at him, closing down, pushing away. He may be my friend, my first real one, but I am doing the only thing I know how to do in life to protect myself. I am running away. Emotionally, mentally and when I am well—physically. I don’t need other humans touching my life anymore.

trying to soften my resolve, but I raise a palm. Remorse at being rude to him pushed down by my inner steel. I know

or waiting for me to change my mind. It’s over—all of it. It’s a concussion and I’m not suicidal. I was drunk and stupid and caught in his spell … it’s not

eyes focused and I try not to imprint the memory of his face in my mind as the one human being who was really decent towards me. I know I am putting myself first and this is the right thing. It only hurts for a little while and then it will all go away. I won’t care about him soon and I will forget what he ever was. That’s how this works

I don’t have friends.

to

eternity as he analyses the stubborn set of my jaw and finally relents. He has the sense to know this is a battle he will not win. I won’t back down and all of this is just delaying the inevitable. He sighs heavily,

again. Defeat crosses his face as he

determined half smile and locks his eyes back on mine with a newly

be on the end of that cell phone should you ever need help, in any way, at any time … I’m not my cousin Camilla. I’m your friend and I will still care about you even when you’re gone.’