The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

“I can’t do this, Lexi.” My heart is hammering through my chest and I have checked my appearance three dozen times in the full-length mirror of the bedroom we stayed in for the rest of the night. Obsessed with my appearance as anxiety strangles the life out of me. Trying to focus on something I can control and getting a little preoccupied with its importance.

We were busy most of last night, making up for our strained day with lots of gentle lovemaking, kissing and caresses, and I’m aglow with his attention today. Cheeks flushed, skin dewy, and a twinkling happiness in my eyes I’ve never seen before. I felt completely chilled when I got up this morning, well almost completely. That was until he dumped this little announcement on me that we’re having a cosy family brunch at Mummy’s house.

Ugh.

Last night was a repeat of the night he first made love to me, after the failed kidnapping at the club. Only without him holding back on the feels, and he completely blew my mind on so many levels. He can be so sweet, attentive, affectionate and warm when you peel away those dark sadistic layers. He turns into a youthful, smiley, touchy-feely boy when his guard completely dissolves, and last night was the first time I truly felt like we both did. No more hiding or secrets between us.

It was the epitome of perfection and this morning I couldn’t be any stronger on my decision to stick with this and see where marriage can go.

His touch was gentle and intimate. He couldn’t get enough of me and we lay wrapped up together in between slow, lazy sex sessions with pillow talk about everything and nothing. It just felt right, and natural. As though somehow, we finally found each other and let everything go to start afresh. Two people with no previous, no scars, no memories of hurting each other at all. The past fell away to reveal something new and precious and so very special. Alexi becoming the man I never knew he could be for me. Like an old soul I’ve known for an eternity, and we just eased into being together so effortlessly that I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I didn’t think I could love him more than I did but this morning it’s reached all new depths and I cannot bear to think of ever being parted from him.

Neither of us slept much but weirdly, I feel rejuvenated and fresh. As though we are in some dreamlike world where nothing can ever touch me again. He looks the same. A new spring in his step, warm happiness in the undertones to that serious face and a look in his eye that matches mine. We’re happy. We work. He’s my perfection and I’m his.

I groan inwardly as reality catches up with my reflection before me and reminds me of the one little hurdle we still need to overcome today. I would rather just hibernate here with him all day and have more of last night. Cocooned in ‘Camlexi’ world where nothing will ever be scary again and my heart feels worthy.

I’ve dressed a tad formally today, trying to make an impression. My gut turning and wrenching nerves hit me hard once more. Popping my little love bubble. I exhale heavily as I find nothing wrong with my attire except a severe lack of confidence in meeting a part of his family that matter.

I once again start pacing, clammy with anxiety and checking my angles and makeup obsessively as I turn and wander around aimlessly. I need to be perfect. Flawless and manicured with nothing out of place so I feel less erratic and uptight. This introduction is important. If they hate me, I’m scared it will affect what I am to him on some level, even though he says it won’t. Alexi loves his family. He puts them above everything, so I need their approval.

“Yes, you can.” Alexi’s being his usual calm self, unaffected outwardly even though this surely must be making him antsy too. I mean it’s his blood, his mother for God’s sake. He is just over there, confidently sorting his shirt and watch by the en-suite door of the bedroom while looking impeccably groomed as always in a nice fitted black shirt that gives him mega ‘phwoar’ factor. Nothing in his appearance to show how he is feeling now we are minutes away from leaving.

Alexi is one of those men who can pull off suits, formal clothes, sexy fitted tailoring and casual attire equally well, and I really don’t know which version I like more. Right now, he’s in all black, dressed down marginally by only wearing shirt and trousers, but he looks model worthy, that tan more obvious against the black and those eyes standing out a mile as the one pale feature in the entire man.

I still to this day can’t stop staring at those almost colourless eyes with that dark-rimmed, sexily sadistic and haunting look. They truly make his whole face.

“You should just go, and I’ll stay here. You said it yourself, she won’t like this one bit anyway, so what’s the point in me coming along to add drama? She’s going to hate my presence.” My hands are trembling, and he stops strap straightening to raise a brow at me. A complete unamused look crossing that almost deadpan expression. My insides sink with that one little look of his I read so well. It’s his ‘over my dead body’ automatic response that will end in me being carried if I refuse.

“This isn’t for her. My father is coming back and will show up for lunch, she knows you’re coming, and I want to tell him that you are now his daughter-in-law. Relax. It’s me she dislikes, so nothing you do can disappoint her more than I do.” He says it so matter of fact, it actually breaks my heart in two for him, pushing aside my jitters. That horrible hard twist in my chest that his mother doesn’t deserve him at all. She has no idea how amazing he really is under all those complicated layers. What she is missing out on.

“Why do you put yourself through this if this is how you feel about her? You don’t need to see her or live up to her expectations. She doesn’t deserve you. We could have met your father in the city.” I have been fiercely overthinking this meeting with his mother for the last two hours after we finally got out of bed, and I have worked myself into insanity over the brunch he arranged when he got up this morning.

She was surprised to find her twins had flown in through the night and, of course, extended a lunch invitation to the four of us at Alexi’s childhood home nearby. I didn’t overhear much, just the cool clipped tones of Alexi being polite, and it’s clear he puts on a certain mask when dealing with her. It was painful to listen to. Detached, business-like and incredibly respectful towards her. It almost made me cry to hear my warm man being his cold Mafia side with someone who should love him unconditionally. She is the reason he found it hard to believe I could love him for so long, so I already hate her without having met her yet.

was on me.” He avoids my eye and carries on smoothing his shirt and trousers out, checking them for lint before checking himself in the mirror. Not that I can tell if he’s happy with his reflection as he shows nothing. Closing down and turning cool in readiness but I’m not upset by it.

defends the bitch even after everything he

He smirks, finishes adjusting himself and slides on his leather jacket, looking suave

as he passes me and a peck on the cheek. A hand trailing my arse and that

arse slap as he saunters out the bedroom door and I just eye roll after him and shake my head. Straightening

fireman’s lift me over if I refuse

time. That’s better than beautiful. You give me a

so seriously I just gaze at him without an ounce of reaction, sliding on my shoes as I lean against

me, that and your stunning metaphors that really make me feel precious.” I eye roll sarcastically. Alexi gives me that cute boy smile with those panty melting dimples, and despite myself, I smile back at him, amused by how he can be sometimes. I wouldn’t really change that tactless unromantic side to him. He does it in his own way and it means so

a stiff drink to get through this, but at least Gino and Alessandra will be there to help diffuse any awkwardness when Alexi announces I’m not just his date, but his bride. That will go down like a lead balloon with his mother. I’m not exactly a mother's dream idea of a daughter-in-law, and I’m still having a little turmoil over the whole M word

last night before sex and sleep, talking about things in general. Marriage, his family, life. I guess I feel more positive about it all today now I’ve had time for him to set my mind at ease. Time to hear him tell me that nothing will change between us except for the better. Basking in his affections, that adoring gaze that removed any doubt that he’d always take care of me. I feel stronger today, knowing I’m not just something he owns, but I’m the woman by his side who gives him as much as he gives me. Two halves of one soul. He lets me

for whatever reason we just lay there in the dark and seemed to talk about the Universe. Easy, non-forced conversation and jokes that had me laughing. Opening up about stuff I never thought I would talk about with anyone, and he was an open book, willing to answer anything I asked. We

My boy!

not religious, Italian, well connected in an honourable family or even come with the right accent. I’m a lower-class working hussy who comes across as overly sexual and purring is my preferred mode of communication. I have pert and ample breasts, a slim body and endless legs, and even I know she will judge me on that alone. I was built to seduce, and I know she will see through me

guess jezebel red will stand out to a good Catholic woman who spends her time making cakes for church bake sales. Just confirm her worst fears, that her son has been pulled in by some cheap gold-digging whore with

will look to most

her blessing on our union, or even know he was dating anyone seriously. A big no-no apparently in the world of dating a Carrero from his particular strain. She didn’t get a wedding invite or get to announce an engagement, and in fact, the whole showing up to drop on her that we’re already wed might make her head explode. He

Just great!

that might be close to what he is expecting will happen, to be honest. So, it’s no wonder I’m a

and mother-in-law approved, so as not to make this worse, he walked over to my case and hauled out probably my

not on his important job list today. It was a ten-minute tiff over what I was wearing before he walked out to go cool down. I got it though, no showing a false me and I chose a favourite dress he

instead of my usual stilettos. A little bit of a ‘don’t fucking change for her!’ yelled at me and that resulted in a straight vodka shot before he almost burned a hole in the carpet from pacing like a caged tiger. Trying not to lose his cool with my choices while ranting at me

line with his requests. It seemed to simmer him back to amicable when I rocked out looking very much like Camilla working the club—my norm. I saw him visibly relax, and I wondered if he needs the familiarity of me beside him when we go to see her. Some complex

guess I don’t like seeing him being someone else either,

and sleek now that I see what

those chaotic energies of his. Sex is therapy for him and what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t help ease his moods in such enjoyable ways. It was not full-on sex, more of a lot of hands down pants

behind him when we’re ready, and down the stairs looking around for Gino and Alessandra, but the house is silent. All I can hear is the jangle of Alexi picking up keys in the kitchen after we split, and he veered left.

the opulent grand hall warily and meet him as he comes out the door again. Surrounding me with that sexy

time with my mother alone. She is orchestrating their engagement announcement and no doubt taking over their wedding plans. I get my control freak nature from my mother, by the way.” He sighs, obviously disinterested in his brother’s