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.

of complete calmness. Facially against him, so our body heat meets, but I’m too wound up to get any other reaction. His whole manner is that of

don’t trust it one

doing. This is my world.’ He leans in and kisses me on the forehead, unexpectedly tender and lingers for a second, while I breathe him in and close my eyes at the forbidden touch between us. He throws me completely

‘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 acting like an insane person. I won’t let him walk out that door. Every instinct is telling me

if you go … if you leave … I’ll never forgive you. Ever! I’ll pack my bags and run away, I’ll go somewhere you can 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 pry my hands from him without hurting me. Panicking while Alexi looks surprised at my venomous

smiles softly, a gentle look in his eyes as he traces a tear from my skin with his thumb and wipes it away carefully. Distracted by him, he manages

I’m stunned at the tenderness of his action. Then fear grips me as

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 to wrap myself around him and never let him out

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 on me. That sense of complete emotional breakdown because he’s not listening and I feel

All I can see is his one going down on

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

them in a

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

broken shards and shambles around my feet and I try to pull myself together, try to be rational

I didn’t love him … I wish I didn’t care, but my heart is shredding and when the dumb door finally opens I throw myself in without hesitation. Stabbing the G button with a force that almost cracks my nail, and I start pacing frantically as I wait

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

already gone out and I run, pushing past them manically, as I get startled looks, yanking it open and pull myself out into the darkness, assaulted by the cool night air. I can only see the backlights, glowing red 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

turn, mind set on hell-bent crazy and desperate to just stop him in any way I can, and run smack bang into Jackson. It’s like hitting a warm 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

hug, fully capturing my limp form as he holds me still, calming my flailing limbs and keeping me rooted to

tear-laden words as I swallow and choke trying to get them out, and Jackson’s face tightens. A calm coming over him as he seems to understand exactly what I mean and nods in a very soft and fatherly way at me, while patting my back gently. My body is straining and buzzing with energy to run

he wouldn’t go if he didn’t know what he was walking into.’ He squeezes me reassuringly. Still a tight grip, but I shake my head,

sometimes blinded by it. His luck has to run out one day. I need to stop him.’ I wail it at him but Jackson turns me, coercing me into his arm, pushing aside my

men who would take a bullet for him any day of the week. He has nothing