The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

I shake my head, stomach turning over as I put it back in my bag and hesitate, even though my heart is saying to leave it well alone. Something inside of me is fighting it and I’m not letting it go as I tilt my head back to let out an exaggerated sigh into the eerie surroundings. My inner stubborn is grabbing at my soul and begging me to end my own agony and reach out to someone I know will help me.

‘Just do it! … It can’t be worse than this.’ I say it out loud to myself, telling myself off, shaking some sense into me.

I know before I pull that card out that I have already made my mind up. I’m weakening, my health, my heart, my fight. It’s all been shaky since the day I left that hospital and I have barely been holding on for months. I am so tired of struggling to fight every day, and the thought of someone else taking control for just five little minutes is like a life savour in the stormy sea. Just five minutes of not struggling to survive is all I need. My weary soul demands it.

My phone is staring me in the face, reminding me that after four percent I will have no more phone until I go home. It’s enough to make a call. It’s almost like fate is telling me that it is now or never and I dial the number from the back of the card marked ‘Cell’ with no more hesitation, even though my heart is pounding through my chest. I wipe my free hand on my leg to remove the clamminess and I’m surprised to find my sweats are already severely damp. I won’t last out here for hours if I get sodden this fast.

As it rings, I begin to shake, mouth drying and knots inside my gut flip over and turn inside out. My chest gets very tight and I try to focus on the trees swaying in the gentle wind.

It’s not that I’m afraid of Mico being cruel and telling me to leave him alone; I don’t think he will.

I’m scared of having any connection to that fucking man, and Mico is well embroiled in the Carrero kingdom. Where there is one there is always the other, and they are too hard to separate.

God, this is so dumb.

I lose my resolve, fluttering heart giving up and I fumble, about to pull the phone away and kill the call as sense gets the better of me but a sound hits hard.

‘Hello? Who is this?’ The voice startles me; so husky, familiar, heart-warming, and he answers so quickly. It’s as though someone up there knew I was going to lose my courage and hang up.

I realise he won’t know who this is unless I actually answer him. I ditched my phone from Alexi when I left the hospital, this is a throw away cheap phone, and he won’t have a clue who is calling him. I am just so overjoyed to hear his voice, it has my throat all clogged up with emotion, and the feeling of severe loneliness for the first time in months abates a little.

I swallow down the bout of nerves dredging up inside of me and clear my throat to find my voice.

‘Mico, hey.’ I sound pathetic, voice small and shaky and lose my courage completely. He sounds exactly the same; unemotional, strong voiced with that little Carrero depth in the tone. It makes my heart hurt to hear it. Both because it’s Mico and because it reminds me of another voice I never want to hear again.

Every part of me is trembling as I close out the world and focus on that beacon of familiarity.

changes and then the phone seems to get muffled for a second as

with tears that are hot on my cheeks at hearing a genuine friendly voice on the other end, and with the effort of talking as my sickness takes over. I’m losing my voice, cracking and painful to talk and my nose is practically a

this bloody New

Mico sounds like Mico, genuinely concerned, mildly panicked and so decent it almost breaks me in two. I forgot what it felt like to have someone give a shit about me and I burst into tears, stupidly emotional.

is painful, in a good way. I’m so tired of being by myself

My voice is barely audible as it

just need you to help me get my door shut and locked, that’s all. I’m sorry to ask this of you but I didn’t know who else to call.’ Tears are blinding me as I struggle to get the last lacklustre words out

to call me. Now give me your address, I’m coming right now. Camilla, are you sick? You don’t sound so good, in fact, you sound awful.’ Mico, gorgeous, caring, safe Mico. He sounds like a haven of hope, and I am suddenly so relieved I called him.

I just need to be able to lie down at home. I’ll text you the address before my phone dies on me.’

and it sobers me right up. That connection is never far away and I nod silently, searching for some

speak this time and I hold my throat as I squeak down the phone. I need some water,

in my car. Hang up and get back to where I can meet you. I’ll be there ASAP.’ He’s in a commanding tone. The voice he uses to

from it now so I will head back,’ I whisper and hang up without hesitation to save battery, not sure whether to feel relieved or just in

tonight, but I’m just so tired. I have been this way for so long that I forget what anything else even feels like anymore. Foggy head and morose mood is my

up and pull my bags with me, dog walker is still lingering in the grass area, and he eyes me warily from his distance, obviously having heard my conversation. Something in that wandering gaze gives me shivers and

my apartment fifty-five minutes after calling him, weary from lugging my bags and just plain unwell. I tried to walk fast but my legs could not handle the effort and as my battery died on my phone, I couldn’t even alert him to the fact I was moving slowly. I have a low fever which I know will spike to knock me on my back soon enough and just need to get

held together by duct tape. It’s too modern and spanking new to be from this neighbourhood, so I guess Mico is already here and upstairs, which gives me a boost of calm. I guess he will be more than likely freaking out that

wannabe house breakers when he got here, as no doubt he would have kicked them both out with broken faces. Mico is much like Alexi in that you do not fuck with him and as he’s built the same as his cousin, he has no issue enforcing his dominance.

doing this, and isn’t just going to help me fix it ourselves. I guess I should have known a Carrero would bring in a professional pronto, and it just makes me feel a little lighter immediately. I guess that’s one trait he shares with Dick Head Devil that I never hated. They take control and sort things out with minimal

me up in the head, but then I could never tell how much real, and how much was

I get past you?’ I look him up and down, casually dressed but the bag of professional tools tells me he is either a carpenter or a locksmith. He smiles and moves out of

drawer and clearing up. The room already looks less chaotic and I swear my heart melts for a moment at both the sight of my friend who fills me with an insane bursting bubble of warmth and the fact he is

of him, that I push away stupidly and give myself a shake. It’s not

so

‘Mico?’