The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

“You think marrying me changes anything, Cam? It’s paper, nothing else. It won’t change anything about us. Everything I said still stands. You can still walk away if this doesn’t work out and get everything I promised, and more. I’m not going to turn into some domineering psycho that chains you to the kitchen sink. Marriage means something to me. I want to make you happy and I wouldn’t jeopardise what we have for anything.” His soft voice lulls me into quiet, and even though the tears still roll down my face, I finally calm. Soothed by his husky voice and the way it washes over me like a gentle summer breeze on a hot day. My lighthouse in the dark.

“I never got to choose. I have no memory of any of it. No proposal, no wedding, nothing. Just a hangover and a piece of paper signed by fucking Elvis. It’s devastating. I just woke up belonging to you legally and that’s it. Just your possession … like I was to him. Something to be passed around and caged, trapped … controlled.” The raw rasp as my words fall out of their own accord. Whole truths, no hiding, even though it’s painful to say it. I shiver with the thought of that monster again and blink him out of my mind’s eye.

This time Alexi sighs and pulls my chin up slightly so I’m looking up into those endless pale greys head on. So animal-like in many ways, yet also perfect and alluring and the grounding magic for me. I could stare into those eyes for ever and a day and never get bored of looking at them. They are most definitely his best feature, even though they can also make him the most terrifying at times. Right now, they hold me still, captive to him and he traces my cheekbone down to my jawline tenderly. Igniting that familiar stomach of tingles and butterflies, drawing me to that sense of safety.

“I didn’t even think of it that way. I’m sorry. You’re not a possession, you’re my soul and the most precious thing I have in my life. I’ll make that up to you, I swear. We just need to use it to our advantage in the meantime and take it one day at a time. When you see that all it changes are the things which benefit you, then maybe it won’t seem so huge, so scary. I don’t own you. I never will. Marriage isn’t about that for me, I’m not my cousins. You will always be the one who calls the shots, even if I like to pretend I’m in charge. You own me, London, heart and soul. I could never hurt you again, it would kill me.”

His words cause a lump to catch in my throat and my heart to constrict with deep emotion, all while soothing my frazzled nerves, bringing rational thought back, and I rest against him so helplessly. My temple finding the hollow against his collarbone and I tuck my head under his chin like a child. Curling up small to take what I need from him when I feel like I’ve been cast loose on a stormy sea.

“This is all so overwhelming for someone like me. I have hang-ups and issues, Lexi, all of them pointed at a life with no man calling the shots—ever. I have never seen a healthy marriage up close. All the men who used my services were married, sexist pricks and screwing around behind their wives’ backs while dominating them in life. They lost their identity, their voices, their sense of worth. Hardly a great example of what marriage is. Marriage is something I never wanted and just feared what it would be.”

“You think I planned a wedding? Until you, Cam, I didn’t even plan on a steady lover. I never fucked the same woman regularly beyond a couple of weeks. This is all new to me too. You broke all the rules for me in so many ways and we make this what we want it to be, together. We decide what marriage is to us. I promise you … I won’t be like those men.”

“Mr Carrero, we are at your destination.” The driver's voice comes over the in-car tannoy system, interrupting us, putting an abrupt end to our conversation and we both sit up a little. Alexi frowns at the faceless voice, irritation peeking because he obviously needs more time with me.

“Great.” He responds into the air and scoops me into a bear hug so tight it’s an inch away from breaking ribs. A final reassurance before showtime because we can’t sit in here indefinitely and he knows it as well as I do. Disappointment floods me as I realise this is what I needed. This side of him cutting through my panic and holding me still. I’m not ready to let go.

“One day at a time. One step at a time. Nothing changes except your name and that’s for your benefit. We can talk more after we get back to the hotel, but right now, baby, I need you to come in and look at this place with me. I need you to be the queen I know you can be. Put on a face and act like you want to be here. Can you do that for me? We won’t be long and then you can fall apart again right after. It’s my job to pick up your pieces and we can get through this.” There is an undertone of pleading as his embrace slackens, his words mending some of my shattered heart and I sniff back, swallowing my upset and plaster a small smile on my face. Weak from my outburst but he has dispelled so many demonic voices that were clawing my brain apart.

“I can do that for you.” I sound like a little girl promising a parent to be better after a scolding. Watery, sniffly and just very vulnerable. Alexi is treating me with kid gloves and brushes my tears away softly.

“I never doubted it.” He kisses me on the tip of my nose, pulling a smile from me unexpectedly. Such a goofy and weirdly sweet kiss and I give him one last cuddle, wiping my face as I do so on the back of my hand.

a sudden stop and Alexi deposits me back on my seat, clumsily wiping my face for me once more which I know must be awful. It’s a paternal tenderness and brings a brighter, genuine smile to my face. My whole demeanour finding something to hold on to and maintain some serenity

try to pull myself together, dabbing my eyes and face and wiping underneath them with practised fingers to try and remove the worst of my runny

hesitation in his touch anymore. Calmer because I no longer feel as threatened by him and logic has a better foundation on which

takes my hand in his as I slide the rest of the way over the seat and step outside to straighten up. instinctively smoothing my dress as I go. Before I get to move past him, he steps in and bends to kiss me on the mouth so gently it’s almost nothing, just a graze of lips, but it sends my heart hammering through

car behind us. He’s closing a metaphorical black hole for me. Brushing it

as always. Smile and look adoring, London. We have a casino to buy.” He kisses me on my forehead, this time with more pressure, a firm reassurance, before stepping aside, locking our fingers together firmly and leading the way. My body pulled against

I spent a lifetime perfecting, to the world. Lift that defiant chin with as much confidence

me to be right now. A role

I can do this.

a very huge and glamorous building that’s as intimidating as he can be. It’s dated but you have all the basics of luxury and opulence in the entranceway, including doormen and valet parking. I eye up the hustle and bustle of people milling around for such an early hour

contrast to the journey over here, and I swallow down the messy, tangled brain waves to

the nineties and I can see wear and tear on every surface as we venture inside. Chipping paint, scuffed brass fittings, and faded threadbare patches across the sea of gross,

while my designer and critical business eye move in, pushing everything else aside. That numb calm that is a welcoming

hue back to what it once was. Huge chandeliers but very tired and could use a polish and possible upgrade. The ambience is depressing with way too many low lights and a stale smoke and booze odour throughout the grand room. The windows are all covered in heavy curtains that should be opened with sheers and framed with something more

slot machines ringing from my left pull my eyes to a huge area filled with rows and rows of them. Décor matching the room we

attention back to the suited middle-aged man approaching us, accompanied by matching black-suited men that are not a patch on Alexi’s normal security. They lack the build and intimidating look of Carrero. You can tell they are probably a bunch of pussy cats

wearing cheap suits and overly serious expressions, pretending to be far meaner than they are. It’s all just posturing and hardly effective when you’ve been in the presence of real terrifying men. Alexi doesn’t let go of my hand, just steps forward and extends his other to shake the hand of short guy with the overly white teeth. He’s pushing his fifties but trying to stay young with cosmetic help and a bad haircut that tries to conceal his balding head. The teeth look as fake

This is Camilla, my wife.” Alexi sounds almost proud when he says it and it does weird things to my insides. That breathy intake of panic at that alien word; I inhale slowly to counteract it. I don’t outwardly react though, just smile and extend a hand when he moves to me with an offered handshake. Keeping myself in check and showing nothing of the

and riddled with nerves. I watch him a little more closely as he steps away, releasing my now moist

more than I expected. He isn’t a match to my cool, controlled, crazy to my left. Alexi looks amused by the obvious show of submission and I know his sadistic side will get a kick out of the unintentional intimidation. He is

at the foyer behind him and ushers us to where he ventured from. His full interest is on Alexi and his approval and I’m a secondary annoyance in his day. Another man that sees women as worthless objects to