The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 129

‘The sob stories, tears … games … vulnerability … fear. I saw the person I thought you were, your reputation—Nothing else. I saw someone trying to manipulate me, Cam … You wouldn’t be the first woman to use abuse as a way to make a man soften towards her.’ He looks away, almost as though he’s ashamed to utter the words to me, and it kicks me in the gut like a mule. His words slice at me like a dull knife straight through my soul, and I flinch in rage as I get exactly what he means.

He thought I was playing him, and all those times he broke me to pieces, was all an act to get under his skin.

‘Believe that I was abused, or that I was traumatised by what you did to me? Fuck you! … You have no idea what I have lived through. What men have done to me. How dare you!! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!! And you’re a liar! If you ever really cared about me, then why did you keep pushing me until you broke me, and then stood there and let me break my heart at your feet? Why did you leave me in that hospital to rot when you thought I almost died, and try to pay me to go away, to get out of your life?’ I yell at him, enraged, overwrought and emotionally unstable all at the same time. I unclip my belt as soon as I realise we are pulling into the car park of the club already, no longer able to stand to breathe the same air as him. It must have only been minutes from here to the restaurant.

I don’t wait for him to stop either, just push open the door to jump out, not waiting for answers to my ranting when I cannot conceal the sizzling energy coursing through me. He slams on the breaks so I don’t roll out of a moving vehicle with the rapid exit I make, and we screech to a halt as my feet hit the tarmac.

‘Cam!’ Alexi yells after me, but I am already out of his car, walking off at speed, bubbling like a volcano and hating him with every single part of my soul; Tears running down my face and wounded to my core. Nothing he could have said would take away the depth of heartache I feel at his hands.

‘Cam?’ Alexi calls after me and then is drowned out by the roar of his car as he parks it at speed in the nearest space and I spin in alarm. Fear gripping me instinctively with the violent sound his engine makes and know he just sped across the park in anger.

‘WATCH OUT FOR FERAL!’ I screech, eyes scanning the lot hysterically, thoughts of him running him over and killing my little scruffy beast hit me hard, and then almost crumble as I sigh thankfully when I catch sight of a little ball of ginger fur curled up beside his food bowls from earlier; where I left him. It’s like a wash of cold water as the sheer relief sweeps through my blood.

Automatically I move to him, to protect him from the insane psycho and his overly expensive machine and pause in sixth sense terror as something grips me coldly with how he looks.

Feral is where we left him, curled up peacefully like a small ginger ball of fluff, right beside his food … except … he’s napping.

Out in the open, in daylight, exposed—something he never does.

My heart skips a beat and I completely pause. Mind numbing over as my breathing hitches in terror.

me, still agitated and has that same angry tone as he catches up to me, but I hold up a hand in desperation to silence him as I edge forward and move closer to Feral. Something deep inside me telling me that this is wrong … something isn’t right. I can barely find the

aggressively

senses

runs and hides before you get within five-feet, but he’s not doing anything except laying there as still as a statue. Nothing at all is moving, not even the little

cold icy panic grips me inside and I move even closer, crouching slowly, slightly afraid to touch

stops me with a hand on my upper arm that pulls me back gently, steps in front of me a little and leans in swiftly past me

that only comes with death; that same quiet

but my heart knows as it breaks in two, and I burst into instant heartfelt

his affection this morning was his way of saying goodbye—For giving him a better end to his days where he was fed and cared for

body sags weakly as I completely

and pulls me against him, wraps his arms around my fragile frame and tugs my face in against his throat as he consoles me and becomes my stability. Hands keeping me locked tight to that massive body, and even though we are fighting, and I hate him, he gives me what I need but didn’t know I did. He cradles me, cuddles me in, wrapping me up tight, sheltering me

enveloping me in his solid embrace, and I can do nothing but cling to him hopelessly—burying my face against his chest as I cry my heart out—completely broken over such a stupid thing. My arms lacing around his wide torso and I screw my eyes shut to stop the tears flowing free. I can’t do anything except sob like a broken child while my body is

his smell, his aftershave, as it gives me a sense of calm. The feel of his clothes

so screwed

cremated. You can have his ashes if you want them.’ Alexi sounds like he always does, unemotional and just cold, but his suggestion isn’t so. He’s offering me some sort of console in a way he knows how. Maybe he doesn’t feel anything about Feral dying, or even know how

who took care of me when I was in shock that night Santagato’s man tried to take me—the man who took care of sick Camilla when she spiked a fever. It’s the man

at him and try to dry my tears as I swallow down the mess going

doesn’t matter.’ I have to force the words out, through garbled sniffs as I try to push him away, ashamed at my heart-wrenching reaction to losing something that wasn’t even mine. He just catches my hands and pulls me into his arm once more as he slides it about my shoulders, turns us, and

right now as my heart bleeds out of my body, and I cannot bear to look back and see Feral lying there

like that!!’ I jerk my face up in alarm, voice crushed with the depth of pain I am in, panic slicing through me at that thought, and he turns

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