The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

I push through the door of the diner exactly three and a half minutes late due to the fact my train was delayed, and I then had to run to get here in half the time. I’m out of breath, lungs on fire and sweating like crazy, not just from exertion, but that damn flu has overtaken with a vengeance. My emotional state is fragile to say the least and I am running on empty.

I can’t stop sneezing, my nose is pouring and I have a throat like razor blades, walking around with that awful cotton wool head. On top of that I have a killer headache from my face and I just feel like death warmed up.

I got maybe an hour and forty minutes of sleep before my alarm went off and I had to drag my sorry arse back up. Judging by the still hot, half-drunk takeaway coffee sat on my counter, Mico and Alexi must have left not long before I woke.

It was a surreal feeling to get up to an organised room and new shiny locks and bolts on every possible avenue into the apartment. I must have passed out pretty quickly too. I woke up to my bedroom door sitting open with its own shiny lock inside and the room around me a little less chaotic. Someone had even fixed my bedclothes and pulled an extra blanket from my chair to place over the ones I had over me in the frosty room. I am guessing Mico. Although something in my gut reminded me of the times Alexi did that exact thing in the club apartment and I brush it aside.

I hate him and he hates me.

That’s the end of that story!

I had to leave my spare uniform to soak in the sink this morning as I forgot to do it last night, and then got pissed when I opened my front door to find an undeniable Carrero security guard sat on a chair outside; black-suited and booted and reading a newspaper as though this was a normal daily occurrence.

I almost had an epic rage-fuelled meltdown that he left me a bloody bouncer to watch over me. Typical god damn Alexi! Although, he did have fresh coffee and hot croissants for me, and offered me a lift to work, which I refused. I sent him packing back to his kingpin and told him that if he bothers me with his henchmen again, I will just move and change my name.

I hope he gets the message. I don’t need this today.

Pressuring me and reminding me of what it’s like to be back in the fold of Carrero. I’m not an idiot. I know what he’s doing.

‘You’re late!!’ Joe is on my arse as soon as he gets a whiff of my appearance through the door and then gawps in horror when he catches sight of me.

Way to boost my confidence!

‘What the fuck? You can’t work looking like that! You look horrendous!’ He rages at me, eyes bulging out of his veiny forehead. As though getting roughed up is somehow my fault and I curb the urge to promptly stick my fingers up at him.

‘Doesn’t stop Lorraine coming in every day,’ I answer tartly and get a snarl from her in the corner as she wipes down a table. I throw her a catty wink and give zero shits that she’s offended. I know the bitch hates on me at every opportunity and there is no love lost between us. I pick up her slack constantly.

‘Funny! Get your ass over here. You can work in the kitchen with me instead and Lacey can serve. I am not having you on the floor looking that shit.’

her arse in the office, so I don’t see that happening. The kitchen is about the size of a postage stamp so if he

No thank you!

it is.’ I sigh and throw my hands on my hips in a bid to stand my ground. I may not feel the part today but I won’t let him push

here. I won’t have my

issue that I’m not fuckable today? Or do your customers keep their women tied to the kitchen sink when they have gotten out of line and required a smack? Afraid of the backlash? Looking bad to your men folk?’ I sass at him, tongue operating without thought and for once, I don’t care. She has kept silent long enough in this hellhole. My temper is very frail and easy

urge to tell him to go fuck himself I obediently do as I am told. I am more than aware of my financial situation and I should keep that at the forefront of my mind today, even if the urge is to stab him in the face. I just need to keep my mouth shut and get this shift over with, so

vibrates in my bag as I walk to the kitchen to dump it and my jacket on the staff hangers and glance at it quickly as

rile

boss already and Alexi is having himself a little temper tantrum. I can’t help but feel a little smug, a grin spreading over my face with major satisfaction at the thought of it, and I giggle to myself.

Joe doesn’t catch

how to be a controlling arsehole. I’m not the one who needs to change. X’

makes me feel a little chipper in my mood. Annoying Alexi is almost as good as finding a bonus in my pay cheque. It never gets old. He is too easy to trigger

most days as it’s hotter than hell, greasy and smoky and has the added insult of banging

knows I need the money now, more

is the crappiness of my

to go and I get

I won’t forget, and I am dead on my feet. My head is swimming from lack of sleep … completely saturated with illness. I am sicker than a dying dog, trying not to cough and sneeze every two minutes, and that letch has rubbed up against me for the umpteenth time while apparently walking to the refrigerator. I cringe as his sweaty clunky body presses me against the sink again, painfully banging my pelvic bone against the steel ridge that sticks out, and I know it’s going to leave a bruise. It more than riles my temper which has been hanging by a thread for hours; completely snaps it when this time a hand slides across my arse as he does so, copping a grope and leaning against me as he cages me in. I freeze, breathing out slowly to control the rage

on ultimate high alert at having a man wedged behind me. Anxiety biting and clamping my chest down heavily as my

door. All day being barked at and yelled at because I wasn’t fast enough, in his way, or generally there to be abused, and

it takes. One little tiny insult to the mass of injuries

hand inching up my naked legs and between my thighs as he moves closer to my stiffened posture, breathing down my neck like some escaped psychopath and I

me, and I definitely cannot stand men thinking I’m a free grope whenever they have the horn.

sick of this

turn on him violently, bringing the pot out of the suds filled lukewarm water I have my hands in, and smack him in the face with it as I turn aggressively, catching him on

his nose as he drops to his knees and starts cradling his face through muffled grunts. Blood pouring beautifully down his chin as though he just got a facial

shit, this is the last thing on Earth I have the ability to deal with anymore. The boy riled me up tight and put me down

broke my nose!’ He squeals like a pig as he crawls around the floor in sheer shock of what I just did, grabbing for something to stem the flow. I wish I could say I felt