The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

It’s nice to finally be appreciated, even if it’s only because he was losing money. It’s something anyway. From worthless and not wanting me around, to actually being needed on my own merits and skills and nothing pertaining to sex. It gives me a little feeling of something warm, maybe pride and for the first time in my life, I feel a little worthwhile for a talent that has nothing to do with my body or my looks. Something to give that’s more than my flesh and something I can actually care about.

‘I will max your card, just pre-warning you.’ I add in afterthought, another little prod at him. I may as well make the most of it while I can and Alexi brings those almost colourless eyes back to mine with another annoyed glance.

‘Whatever; just be back before seven. I need to see you before I go. We didn’t finish talking.’

I blanch at him.

Whatever?

He gave me a ten grand limit card, and he doesn’t care if I max it?

I think he might be sick or maybe misheard what I just said. Or he might just be too distracted by whatever he has going on in his brain and I should take full advantage of it. He said whatever, after all.

‘Why?’ I try to distract myself from the card thing and focus on the demand that we have to have another little chat. I was hoping to avoid cosy one-on-ones with him so soon. I want to just find my feet today and get back to being the girl I thought was dead.

‘I told you, we need to talk about money and I will have something for you by then that you need. I have a dinner after seven, so you need to be here before I go,’ he commands, eyes on his phone as it vibrates and that furrowed brow is back on, hints of annoyance in place … definitely not relating to me then. I only have half his attention today and I guess he has other matters and his focus lays elsewhere.

‘What if I am not?’ I can’t help it, he’s too easy when there are no punishments dangling over me, and I’m irritated that he’s more interested in his phone right now. I’m in a naughty mood, high on the better turn of luck in my life, and feeling decidedly mischievous where Carrero is concerned. I want to play him at his own game for a little while. Being the one calling the shots. I also demand his full attention when we are chatting.

‘You really want to test me today?’ That low tone and narrowed gaze move in fast, eyes flickering to me quickly, and I finally lose my bottle with that uber cool and calm pitch of his that means he’s idling near his full-on sadistic psycho switch—His text obviously getting to him.

demonic prick still lingers under that sexy persona, and bear in mind he does snap from time to time.

schedule and altering my sleep pattern. Better to work late and get used to my five-a.m. knock-off time.’ I relent, letting go of the sass for now and killing him with sweetness and smiles. Alexi looks wary for a moment as though he doesn’t trust the change

Sorted. Don’t be late; I don’t like to be kept

to oozing charm, yet that tone is still on the offensive, smiling as though he is joking but there’s

a good little puppy dog. Satisfied in the look that Alexi gives me on my departure. A complete deadpan, unamused frown that equates to nothing much, but the

the first time I wonder what went on in the four months that I haven’t been around. He’s off his game in a lot of subtle ways, and I am picking up

to get to.’ I click my fingers in the air, full on bossy queen mode and rush out the door with renewed happiness and

stop to

cloths, as they wipe down every surface in sight. They have apparently been at it all day and this place stinks of bleach and cleaning products, so much so it’s stinging my eyes, but it’s a whole lot

cosier, less stale and musty, and the man who came to inspect for mould has treated a couple of areas ready for the repaint. The air is breathable once more and I had them burn all the bedding from

surroundings, and the new low lights

thorough exam as he found no evidence of moisture in the wiring from the previous flood, but a few of my switches should be replaced because they are faulty. Something else I need to get on top of. I don’t like this idea that something is not right and it’s something Joanne should have resolved before months had passed. Faulty switches

clingy, over high black stilettos and a simple gold belt at my waist. I feel good. I look a million times better and my long sleek hair has been pampered into gorgeous submission by the talented Claire

the mess on my face with a facial and a new bag of makeup from my favourite boutique and Sephora. Spent a fortune on the top-up, although I was annoyed to find my trademark red lipstick has changed shade

at her gleefully, happier than I ever thought I would be to see her again. It’s divine in a way, like a

Finger’s crossed anyway.

to sit beside me on the stool casually, giving me a thorough look over and breaking into a wide smile. A genuine looking

in the depths; I re-cross