The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

It’s bigger than me and I struggle to breathe through the tears I never knew I could cry. He broke me somehow, throughout the day; maybe this whole week has been building to this moment. These past weeks, months, most likely. My heart peeling off its layers of armour slowly and opening deep, dark secret rooms one by one to air them out and set things free.

Something had to give. All the pressure I have been bottling up, everything building. The mistrust, the fear, the heartache. It’s all unnecessary.

I belong to someone who will take me as I am, scars and all, and never judge me for it. Worthless and messed up to everyone else, but he doesn’t care about any of that. It doesn’t lessen the worth he thinks I have. And he sees a queen. He always did.

Finally, I truly believe him. Even when I thought I did … I didn’t.

Doubt—it dies a death and I make a conscious decision to stop questioning and twisting what I see when it comes from him. I trust him; he proves it over and over. For the first time in my life, I have complete, one hundred percent faith and belief in another person. I must hold on tight and never let him go.

He will always protect me and put me first. I just had to stop denying it and running from it. Find my voice and take down that last wall from between us, physically hack it down at the root. He had already done it for me, in every way. Marriage was the last tiny brick for him. You can’t get any more of a declaration of undying love and adoration than jumping to wed a girl who makes you walk through fire for even a smile. No hesitation either … no regrets.

He knew what he wanted, and he took it whatever way he could. He is willing to dissolve it to keep me happy, even after all of that and it says more than he ever could with words. Alexi has always been a man of action over words.

It’s like I’ve waited so long to unburden all of this properly. I guess I needed to really believe in this and standing here in the house where he once tore me down to nothing, I’m somehow finding a way to let it all go. Forgiveness is cleansing, and I forgive him for everything he has ever done. I’m freeing us both.

Fuelled by today, this morning, all this … I don’t know. Either way, my head and my heart are so done carrying it all with me and letting it stand in the way of what I could have. Blocking me from trusting him, having faith in him.

Every scar, every bruise, cut, wound, defilement of my body. Every punch, slap, kick and hand around my throat. Every man who took me against my will and every invisible mark it left on me. Every piece of my shattered heart at the hands of my parents. Every medical procedure needed to put me back together after another violent sexual or physical assault. All retreating into a deep, numb cavern that is no longer connected to me.

It’s as though those scars are now tears and I’m throwing them away one by one, giving them to him because he seems to know how to pull them out and throw them far away. Just holding me, keeping me close and letting me set my heart free.

There’re so many of them, it’s a tidal wave threatening to become a monsoon; maybe when I’m done, there won’t be very much of me left, but there’ll be the parts that are worthwhile to Alexi. The little parts of me he wants to keep and help nurture into something more.

He saw me. In the dark, despite being an invisible shadow. He somehow saw me through all the layers and masks and lies and found that little girl who never really had a chance. Someone to care about. He saw her, held out his hand, and told her it was okay to go with him. A broken little boy who felt as invisible as me, needing to be cared about in the right way. Somehow, we found each other and saw through everything we had put in the way to throw people off our scent. Two wounded little kids aching for home and love. So alike in so many ways.

The man I never believed could feel anything more than disdain for me, standing here to be my rock, holding me up as I expel years of damage and heartbreak into a huge wet patch on his shirt. Healing me just by holding me and waiting patiently until I’m done.

I finally found home.

I finally found worth.

Someone who wants me, for eternity.

Marriage can mean whatever I want it to mean. The proof is in the way he has given me control of everything between us since they came for me—he isn’t Rick and never will be. They are thousands of miles apart as people, and he made sure that monster will never grace my life again.

He is Alexi, my Lexi … and I never want to lose him.

Marriage isn’t his hold on me … it’s my hold on him. My certificate of ownership. Alexi surrendered his soul to me, not the other way around. I see that now. I was always the one with the power.

thought changes

his throat without a second thought or a single fear about it. No matter

real pleasure came in

blurry vision. Things becoming clearer by the second, with an avalanche effect, gathering

for me and me alone. He could walk out of this room right now and that badass Mafia boss could take care of business with a cold heart and lack of empathy, kill someone and walk right back in here and it wouldn’t matter.

but the last hours of disconnection made me realise that fear is nothing compared to losing what we have. I can overcome fear. The silence and desolation of him severing me are so much worse than being his possession. However, I think realising we own each other takes the heavy weight that’s been suffocating me all

day at a time. I can see how it goes. I can always ask him later

need. I have to trust in that, in him. I don’t want to go back to being a nameless face in the shadows of his world, hiding my love

what we had at the casino. I need the title of wife, I

be his queen. We were made to stand side

across my face to move it back and cradles

mind and let it settle down.” It’s a mischievous, cocky smile, no shame in his obvious arrogance at all, and for some reason it makes me laugh, rather than mad. Tears breaking into giggles and I

know what made me so special in a world where he could have had his pick of women. Why did he choose the street rat,

on the forehead softly before wiping away some of my tears. Sill

would overlook my conduct? I think it makes you even more addictive. I like a lot of naughty with my nice. And your particular brand of sexy and devil red

my warm cheeks, I smile widely, my heart filling with so much love for him. Pain

It’s too valuable.

should have run away from. I love you

my weight he was holding up, and I grab his shoulder to steady myself. A little taken aback by his sudden release. He steps back, eyes fixed on me and before I can really figure out what he is doing, he swoops to get down on one knee in a really dramatic fashion for him. Serious expression suddenly and very

fingers warmly and securely. I’m blinking at him, confused with what he’s doing and just stare. Silent tears, sodden face and acting like a pleb with no clue as to

you okay?” I ask stupidly, convinced he’s maybe dizzy or something. I really don’t connect the dots at all. A little dense in the aftermath of

the memory, London. Your wish is my command. Will you marry me … again? Date and venue of your choosing because I love you enough to

a bunch of short raspy breaths as I self-calm. A little slow on the uptake and shell-shocked to boot. I mean, I really didn’t think

so surreal. Composing myself as best as I can although I should really give up and accept, I’m a complete mess. A short moment of calm in my internal storm and I wait for the

just smiles, in that devastating dimples and Hollywood way that turn my knees to jelly and my insides to mush. Trepidation is in there, peeking

rise from the depths. Simmering inside and refusing to back down but I know I have control of this. They are just thoughts and fears that will warp my mind if I

keeping me grounded.

I’m no longer what you want or need … end it. Don’t be like those men who maintain an empty marriage and visit women like me. Don’t betray me. Just be honest, always be honest. If this doesn’t work, don’t let it drag on. Don’t turn me into an object.” My hands shake as I realise exactly what I’m doing. I’m agreeing to this and laying down the boundaries as we do. It’s our thing. Setting the guidelines, the rules and

into the deep end with this man while all my doubts and questions are screaming at me to stop and be more cautious. I swallow it down and

with something as silly as sense and logic.

not an option. Life as his mistress will never be

never deceive you, and if things go sour, I’ll fix it, or I’ll

getting the better of me and tears threatening to overflow once more. It’s that last little moment of panic that

with me. I’m not scared anymore. It’s more terrifying to think of a future without you in it than anything else we do together.” Alexi seems so calm and in control, patiently kneeling there on the floor, probably bruising his knee on the Italian marble, and

I can do this.

and niggles quieten to a low hum rather than a deafening choir inside my head. I can live with the little noise they make when it’s all put into that kind of perspective and I remind myself over and over of the facts. Marriage may not be what I wanted but I’m willing