The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Alexi’s apartment is huge. Walking in the door, ushered by four big burly men I know from the club and all in complete silence. I don’t even take the time to acknowledge them individually or even look up past black heavy coats and wide chests to recognise each one. Just a group of intimidating security in matching outfits and earpieces who escorted me from car door to apartment door.

I have no words anyway. Dishevelled, filthy and broken inside as I’m led into a massive open plan penthouse apartment that I would never think of putting Alexi in. A building in Upper Manhattan’s most luxurious area.

It’s warmer and homelier than the décor of the club, with slight ties to his bolthole in the styling. Huge soft corner couches, side tables and furniture for lounging and laying cups by your side. In front of vast windows spanning entire walls and showing New York at its finest in sweeping views. I feel like we are on top of the world as we are so high up in a vast modern yet comfy home that is less stark and male than the club. My eyes scan the roaring glass fire in the natural brick pillar standing imposingly in the middle of the room, giving no real heat so it’s obviously a digital screen. It serves as a divider to the metal railed stairway behind it at the far end. I’m close to a white glossy kitchen that spans an entire wall and uses unstained real wood topped island counters to create a more sectioned off space. The whole place is in earthy tones, neutrals with fur rugs and cosy furnishings placed strategically around with the odd sculpture and a lot of large potted greenery freestanding around us. It’s vast but there is a sense of intimacy in all the little arranged seating nooks.

A large, grey wolf-like dog comes trotting out from behind that huge chimney breast structure startling me with his sudden appearance. Instantly my heart hammers faster, and hands go clammy as it drops its nose and sniffs the air lower to the ground while reaching it out towards us. Smelling us.

An intimidating wild looking beast that stands abnormally tall for a mere dog. It’s easily at my waist height and although slender all over, it has a mass that hints at speed and power. It’s unnerving, much like waking in a hospital room with a stealthy Alexi in the shadows and that same feeling of intense anxiety and awareness overcomes me. Skin prickling with nervousness and my blood cools my overheated body almost instantly.

The dog, if I can even call it that stands off and watches us suspiciously in his poised stance, pulling my attention to its head as it raises it fully; studying us, eyes boring into us. They all seem oblivious and obviously used to its a presence, but I’m rooted to the spot, locked in a battle of stares from an animal that looks like it belongs in a Red Riding Hood movie. I’m the girl in red and I might be about to become lunch.

I shiver, trying to hide my fear but I can tell it already senses it as it watches, statue-like and just does not react at all.

The men scatter and go off to do a sweep of the building even though there is two security sitting at an office right at the main door in the only real sectioned off room in this place. They nodded at us as we walked in. No one’s bothering to even tell me what to do now I’m here, or if I should curl on the floor in the foetal position until this scary arse wolf goes away.

I just stand awkwardly, trying not to fidget, and move a tiny inch towards the sitting room while never letting my eyes trail away from those two beacons of intensity he has going on.

He reminds me of someone equally terrifying.

The soulless pale grey eyes of Alexi, on an animal. It’s weird and yet somehow comforting and I can see what drew him to this animal if it is even his. That eerie pair of devil eyes, lacking warmth and colour.

“Lync. Here.” One of the men reappears quickly, having checked a nearby room behind a heavy wooden door I’m only drawn to when I hear him close it. He calls to it as he walks back to me and it bursts into a run, tail lifting to wag as it heads for Reynold. One of Alexi’s most used henchmen in his security team. He bends down, although he doesn’t need to move far as the dog is about the size of a small bear, and aggressively rubs its head and body while crooning at it.

All of its scary ‘I may eat you’ manner, disperses into puppy whimpering and crawling around the man's feet as it tries to roll on its back for further affection. Melting the hostility and suspicion away as he folds back his ears and his jawline seems to curl back into a weird dog smile with half-closed eyes at the petting. He’s soft as hell it would appear. It’s as big a transformation as dickhead Alexi to sweet Lexi.

“Is he Alexi’s?” I ask stupidly, watching at my safe distance, trying to not feel weirded out that he even has a pet, let alone a scary reincarnation of him if he was an animal. It just doesn’t fit the idea I had of him and he has never mentioned this at all. He acted like Feral was a strange thing to have and now I find he has an actual wolf. Lync definitely looks wolf rather than husky now I’m examining him up close and not wondering if I can outrun him. He has huge paws and teeth, despite a skinnier lanky frame and very rough fur.

“He is yeah. Lex likes to keep him out of the way. He’s a wolf mix with an Inuit in there somewhere. Rare and not quite your usual domestic pet. Lex rescued him from a kill shelter who had worried his mix would make him a vicious animal and unsuitable for re-homing.”

I blanch at that and blink at this animal again. His eyes are fixed on me once more in the most distrusting way, watching my every move while having his belly rubbed and it strikes me just how like Alexi the dog really is.

Ferocious, untrusting, almost snarling feral dog, that I have no doubt is a biter when he wants to be. Yet, the ability to trust and a love of being petted with the right people. A much softer inner side of his personality.

I wonder if I rubbed Alexi’s tummy, he would not strangle me to death for today.

Might be best not to try though.

I guess he saw a kindred spirit in this poor beast and now I’m feeling a little less intimidated by something that belongs on the cover of a wild Alaska animal book. Even if I’m not entirely convinced it isn’t sizing me up for dinner.

“He takes a while to warm to people so don’t be offended if he keeps his distance and watches you like he might maul you. Lync was wild when Lex took him in, and he doesn’t trust just anyone. He’s well trained though and doesn’t like the taste of human flesh.” That wicked smile, a chuckle that puts my fears to rest even though I won’t admit it was what I was thinking, and I eye roll at his attempt at humour. Much like his cousin with his dry jokes. I think it must be a Carrero trait to be dry, blunt and sarcastic in humour.

coincidence in the wolf though. Sounds like Alexi in so many ways and I can almost feel myself

it, still aware of its eyes homed in on me and wonder if it’s the kind of animal to rip your

Lync.” He rubs him one last time and then straightens up to make a move. The dog rolls back to a sitting position and immediately turns his eyes back to me. Intimidation at its finest. The thing doesn’t even blink and I squirm uncomfortably and look away.

the initial shock of seeing this beast for the first time wears off, the more you appreciate just how handsome an animal he is. He has definite wolf-like traits in his colouring and markings. That long face and piercing eyes, the lankier frame of a wolf over something like a husky. But then those eyes are something

skin and jet-black hair in an angular face. It’s what makes them stand out in the

It’s beautiful.

he makes sure it’s cared for when he isn’t here. I’m guessing there is constant security, and the bubbling pot on the stove in the cooker suggests there is a housekeeper kicking around that makes sure his dog is walked and fed and adored in his absence.

just steer clear until it decides not to eat me” I smile warily and take a giant curve around them to go look for a seat. My legs are sore, my feet are painful from running in these damn shoes and all the debris I got in them. I’m scratched up and covered in filth. My battered body and face are burning, dress messed up. I’m aching and I must look an absolute fright after full

bad

me, coming from far left behind me and I jump then turn to see a very small woman in her late fifties coming down from behind the stairwell

setting, with a floral dress under a cosy pink cardigan and apron over chunky boots. She has a wrinkly tanned but warm and friendly face, with matching

kindly old lady in a magical story, then it would be her and I’m

show you to his room if you follow me.” She smiles warmly, watery blue eyes shining at me with no hint of malice, and I

bored, not a motherly, frail little woman who is more likely to hug away your tears. I wonder if she too is some sort of Carrero relative although I’m not sure he would put them in a position of servitude.

most of his men are, so

reply brightly, liking this idea of getting away from men and dog and being alone to soothe myself. It doesn’t go unnoticed that despite being cold and pissed Alexi still called ahead to make sure I would be taken care of. A bath and food, knowing I’m a mess and would probably need an energy boost after the shock of what happened. I’m light-headed, fragile and woozy. A

at me he’s still trying to care for me, that must

the stair and I follow obediently. Desperate to sit down and take these shoes off but not willing to show any more vulnerability than I have. My hands are caked in dry blood and grime and stinging from a thousand minor scratches and scrapes, all over my exposed legs. I’m

with my attempted kidnapper, and I shudder as the image of his dead body slumped at Alexi’s feet zooms in to give me another stomach lurch. I push

my head again. Nerves having themselves a rollercoaster

carpeted stair has glass bannisters between the wrought-iron railing and just adds to the airy feel of space and luxury as we disappear to a second floor into more of the same neutrals and plush cream carpeting. No polished floors in sight up

as we climb upstairs, I realise the apartment must extend much further and it leads to more rooms. Behind

several others. He’s single and clearly only lives with a dog. It seems like maybe one day he has plans to expand and I push it down and ignore it as

Many rooms are on either side behind natural wooden doors and I like the fact this place has the space to spend a lot of time and never feel hemmed in. Maybe that’s why he bought it. He can be

door facing us and opened into a large master suite whose windows match those of downstairs. A

bigger than

one wall is a cleverly concealed row of white doors which I assume are wardrobes and meant to look like one glossy wall. There are some huge dark wood dressers along the wall to my right, between this door and another set of closed doors which are the only other things in here, besides a massive glass panel fireplace on the chimney, a good ten feet over

will get you something from my wardrobe to wear that might fit until Mico has your clothes sent over.” She smiles pleasantly pointing at that door

clothes here, then I will have them laundered.” She smiles again, wide and friendly and doesn’t even flick her eyes over my messy dishevelled appearance with

I like her.

is tying itself in knots and could do with a little intel. If I know when he’s about to show up, I can at

know what will happen when he shows up. That’s a special kind of

warmth in that wrinkled little face and I wonder if she was an attempt at giving himself a stand-in mother. She has that maternal

he was lacking, and I can see why he never let me come here before.

not liking reheated food. It’s not something that ever came up, seeing as I don’t cook for him, or have ever had to

I can stop planning beyond tonight if he’s coming back today. I