The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

I like this place; it gives you that instant calm feeling of being somewhere safe and welcoming. A bit like being in his arms. I shake that thought from my head before my brain follows the being in his arms to something a little more X-rated and remind myself, I’m supposed to be dissecting this man and figuring him out.

“That depends on how much I’m allowed to know,” I ask with a slight brow raise and a half smile. My seductress side smoothly flowing now I feel more at ease. I too am drawing serene from our calm abode.

“Whatever you want. I meant it when I said I would earn your trust. If that means being an open book and telling you whatever you want to know, then here we are.” He gestures around him, watching me carefully.

“You could have done that at the club, why bring me here?”

Because Alexi is a devious shit who likes to set a scene and manipulate a response. I have seen him do it for his own ends a hundred times. It’s what he does, and he does it so well.

“This is my little corner away from reality. A sanctuary, I guess. I get to leave Alexi Carrero at the door and just be Lex. A teen kid who came to the city to figure his life out. I figured it would be the best place to start altering the person I have shown you up until now. I brought you to the one place where barely anyone else gets to come, for that reason; no prying ears either.”

No one else except whoever got this place visitor worthy today. I’m onto him.

“So even though you grew up and bought a swanky apartment, you still have this place … as a bolthole of sorts?”

I’ll play along, see where it takes us. I start to wonder if this is all staged, and this belongs to one of his minions and not him at all, but his obvious ease is contradicting that. I get the impression he knows this place intimately, has lived here, and even though it doesn’t initially reek of Alexi Carrero, there is something of him in the atmosphere. I can’t quite put my finger on it yet.

“Yeah. I bought it after I started working for my father and just couldn’t let it go. I have a lot of memories here, a lot of me that was left behind when I changed the path I took.”

It’s also in the same area he once took me to lunch, so the geography adds up. He told me that day he once lived near there. I didn’t forget that tiny titbit.

I exhale heavily, knowing the only way I will get the full story is to go back to the start. Like me, his story is not clear cut or as simple as I thought it was, and I guess to know the man, you need to know the journey. I want to know how he came to be King Carrero if his father opposed it. I want to know how someone who could lovingly create this home, became someone who could tie me up and rip my sanity to shreds. The two don’t match up.

“I don’t know what to ask about how you got here. I’m guessing your mother played a part and I know you shot someone at 13. I want to know your history. How you got to be what you are now if you started here and your father turned you away from being like him?”

Seems like a reasonable request, given he offered.

Alexi considers me for a long minute before getting up and walking over to his bookcase. There’s a stereo and a row of CDs and he turns it on putting one in before turning back to me, lifting the remote and turning it down low. Maroon five starts soothing me with familiar notes, playing around us unobtrusively and I smile on the inside. I’ve heard him play their songs at the club when he’s in the office. This is definitely Alexi’s pad. His music tastes are very rigid, and this is a song he plays a lot.

He bends down as I watch him from my sitting position as he slides out a black leather photo album from the shelf below before walking back; he hands it to me and returns to his seat confidently. That smooth swagger that reminds me of who he is.

I watch him closely, unsure what to do until he nods at it and gives me permission to open.

“My family album, one of them, courtesy of Gino. Figured you might want a visual of the people in my past.”

I let out a little ‘huh’ under my breath, smiling as I screw up my face. Surprised that he even owns these kinds of things and look down to do as I’m told. I want to see what ‘family’ for him is. I want to see the bitch that Gino blames for his cold heart and chosen life path.

presented with an array of similar looking men and children, family pictures, holiday shots. The usual for any family in an album. A lot of strangers and some familiar. I recognise Gino and Alexi in some, as small children. I spot who I think might

little dark and sinister even then, but adorable and even harder to separate from Gino without tattoos and badass tailoring. They are creepily identical. There is a lot of him and his twin and then just one with their father. He isn’t really in a lot of the images and I guess his line of work kept him absent a lot. Much like Alexi who never

the tall, powerful man I met at the club. So much like his son in looks but with more wrinkles, grey hair and different colour of eyes. He has that air of command but not

family shot and instantly recognise the twins, their father, three other children and a woman who is certainly not a Carrero. They did not take after her if she is who I think she is. She looks drawn and bitchy, to say the least. Attractive, long dark blonde hair, which is probably dyed, and brown eyes, but with her, there’s an impression of coldness to her I sometimes see in

manner. The way she’s poised, and even though one hand is on her child’s shoulder, a girl, there is an impersonal detachment in it. She is groomed and precise and seems like an addition to

right?” I tap her face and motion him to look where I’m pointing, and he leans in

her.” He doesn’t

little sterile. Even in

As usual, I did something to make her angry, and it was my fault she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there.” He sighs heavily and drinks a good portion of his wine, averting his eyes to his

with my siblings. I have four. I was always a problematic kid, and she didn’t know how to deal with me. It affected our whole relationship and I pretty much spent my childhood on the outside of my own family. The black sheep, making everything difficult.” He adds as he stares at his fire and bookcase, avoiding my eye, and that little tug

know I’m admitting to eavesdropping by asking this, but I’ve always wanted to know the full story of

snippet of info, but he doesn’t ask. I think he knows that I’ve listened in when I shouldn’t and carries on as though it no longer matters. Maybe back then he would have been

like talking about this stuff and the agitation is all over him already. That evasive behaviour of his. The first thing he always does is avoidance is to get out of range and give himself space. I know him too

you know,” I call after him, feeling like I’m crossing into an area that makes him uncomfortable and I really don’t want to. Not wanting the side of him I fear coming out to play on purpose, even if I planned on bringing it out. I want to

means to call Jackson to come save me before I attempt to bring out the devil in him. Better to have an exit

you already and should balance the scales a little.” He walks back, beer in hand, but doesn’t sit. Just wanders to

bitch staring back at me. I don’t like her, even without seeing more, there is something in her that reminds me

forthcoming and being a completely different person.” I lose my bravado, almost talking into my chest and swirl my wine in one hand. Remembering

catch his eye before he returns to his previous position,

atmosphere, and I can tell he’s not as comfortable with this as he is making out. He doesn’t share personal things so this must be taking a huge

brain in

knowing the questions to ask. My version of his life is

to be so. This bothers him. Offering this so he won’t have to be

things that might upset him. If he’s in control of the intel he gives, maybe we can get

to start and shifts in his seat, a little straighter and at an angle where he can look at me without turning his

and disciplining me did nothing. If anything, it made me worse and more likely to be a little shit. I

and that makes his smile break properly too. A genuine ‘cute boy with dimples’ smile that relaxes me, and some of the nervous tension I was holding balled up inside me, dissipates a little. The tense atmosphere around us eases slightly, and as I cradle my wine and take a sip, I can see him loosen up visually too. Those shoulders not so square and

brother was the polar opposite to me. I guess it was a case of good twin, bad twin, and as we were my mother’s first offspring, she didn’t know how to deal with me. So, she pushed me out, praised him and decided that ignoring the bad behaviour was how to punish me. Gino was the golden boy, and I was the kid she apologised for wherever we went. It wasn’t deliberate, I didn’t know how to be any different. I wasn’t actively trying to be bad; I just couldn’t stop it. I grew up knowing I was the one she didn’t really like, barely loved, and I guess it got to me a lot more than I admitted to myself.” Even though his words are level and show no hint of the turmoil they cause him, I can tell he’s hurting. His manner is way too controlled and cool, which I have learned is when he is

My poor baby.

imagine watching your siblings being loved while she was being cold to you, that’s horrible. It’s a form of cruelty that is just unfathomable to me.” I blurt out, my heart already aching for a little kid who was shunned for being the naughty one. I guess also having a mother who was cruel I can relate to him in that way. See

wasn’t until I was around nine they finally figured out I have ADHD, and back then I had something called ODD, or Conduct disorder … which pretty much means I

shrug and a shake of his head as he tries to pass it all off as meaningless. I sit in stunned silence and try