The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

He’s back in minutes with a freshly styled do that adds to that groomed perfection of his as he pulls his jacket on one sleeve. Body emphasised by what he’s wearing and I am instantly drawn like a magnet to look at him. My eyes scan impulsively, immediately to the one thing that stands severely out of place, and causes an instant nervousness deep down in my gut; A tight chokehold on my stomach.

‘Why are you carrying tonight?’ I nod towards the holster under his armpit, face dropping as seriousness hits me to dampen my libido. His gun on show and he just ignores me and continues putting on his jacket smoothly to cover it up. Something in my stomach swirls with unease, nerves rising as suspicion hits me and I move closer to him.

‘Alexi? You never carry when you’re going to dinner. Why are you taking a gun?’ Sixth sense has all my alarms firing and my palms get instantly sweaty as nerves eat away at me. Something deep down alerting me to this one detail and I can’t shake it away; A deep achy unease of something being wrong.

I have watched him come and go from this club, been with him at dinners, parties and such … he NEVER carries when he goes to these things. That’s why he has security with him instead.

‘Sometimes I do.’ He avoids my eyes, voice strained and husky as he tries to dismiss me and I know it’s a lie. I can tell. I don’t know how but I do. In all the months of knowing him, never being able to second guess when he’s honest, yet right now, I just know. It kicks me low down with a fresh pang of pain.

‘Is Mico going with you?’ my voice is higher, hints of anxiety peeking up as I get more internally hysterical, and he is doing his best to avoid me, dodging me as I follow him around like a persistent child. He walks away from me to use the mirror for his final check on appearance as he rights his jacket and buttons it up carefully.

‘Of course,’ he answers flatly and that just tips me over. The complete obvious in what he just said.

Mico is going with him!

Mico is ALWAYS armed for this reason. Meaning he has no need of this unless his gut is telling him otherwise. Something in him telling him he needs extra protection tonight.

I swear everything inside of me turns to instant stone and grips me coldly. My lip trembles as I am hit full force with a wave of gut-wrenching concern for his safety, so strong I can almost taste it.

‘What kind of dinner? With who? Where?’ I question like the Gestapo, getting more and more worked up, my voice straining with emotion as he tries to get around me and sighs as I block his path. Getting in his way and hindering his progress.

‘You’re making me late.’ He says calmly, a little hint of a sigh but not annoyance. Alexi isn’t getting pissed with my behaviour, which means I have hit on something truthful and it only serves to make me worse. He moves me with gentle hands on my shoulder, but I grip onto one of them as he goes to leave, and cling on tightly.

‘Alexi stop it … You’re scaring me … You don’t carry a gun, EVER, when you go out to these things. If you feel something that tells you that you need it, then don’t go … stay with me. Stay here.’ I beg him, tears hitting me from nowhere, terror clutching at my insides cruelly; twisting my guts all up into knots with danger bells ringing in my head deafeningly. I can barely catch my breath.

and turns his eyes to mine, slowly inhaling and pulls me close to him with a sense of complete calmness. Facially against him, so our body heat meets, but I’m too wound up to get any

don’t trust

second, while I breathe him in and close my eyes at the forbidden touch between us. He throws me completely off guard and I can’t stand it anymore, eyes flashing open as my brain connects the dots with a more

much like a ‘goodbye’ for my liking and I don’t let him go; both hands on his wrist as he tries to walk out and I hold with all my might. I dig my heels in and don’t care if I am

never find me and screw your stupid club.’ I start crying. Words tumbling out in a rambling mess of shaking voice and trembling limbs, gripping on with everything I have in me as he tries to

thumb and wipes it away carefully. Distracted

between us while I’m stunned at the tenderness of his action. Then fear grips me as he turns and walks away quickly, knowing he needs to go before I grab him again. He

I croak, voice cracking as I impulsively run after him into the hall, he walks right into the open lift before turning and stopping me from following him with a raised palm. He looks tense, not angry or agitated, just pleading, with an expression that makes me want

and I stand sobbing and clinging to myself, hugged by my own arms which aren’t comforting. The door slides shut between us and I start to hyperventilate as it all comes crashing in

hard, over and over in a bid to get it open once more, or one of the two lifts to open up. All I can see is his one going down on the counter under the button. With every

doors, blinded by my tears, willing him to listen, even if he’s already gone.

I claw at them in a bid to

but to be armed. He has a sixth sense and truly knows this world, so if he believes something is amiss and is taking extra precautions for his own safety, it means something really bad is going on. In his world—bad means something along the lines of most normal people’s nightmares.

falling into pieces of broken shards and shambles around my feet and I try to pull myself

the dumb door finally opens I throw myself in without hesitation. Stabbing the G button with a force that almost cracks my nail, and

on, looking a fright with makeup dripping off my chin amid a torrent of tears, and can only see the normal floor security milling around as the

in the darkness, of Mico’s car leaving—too far to be stopped and already out of the gate. My mind scrambling into high alert mode, and I wonder if I can get to the front

padded wall at force and I gasp in stunned shock as a minor ache hits my whole body with the collision. I am still sobbing and acting like a crazy lady as he catches hold

fully capturing my limp form as he holds me still, calming my flailing limbs

out, and Jackson’s face tightens. A calm coming over him as he

he was walking into.’ He squeezes me reassuringly. Still a tight grip, but I shake my head, brushing away his sense and sniffing back

wail it at him but Jackson turns me, coercing me into his arm, pushing aside my fight as he slides it around me and walks me back to

surrounded by men who would take a bullet for him any day of the