The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 31

He could at least acknowledge that we work together. There’s chemistry. ‘’Coming here? Don’t you normally take your serious day to day work to your office in the city?’’ I know he has one; he has a whole building apparently and spends the time he’s not here wherever that is. I will let this go and act like I don’t give a shit either. Maybe pretend the sex was mediocre. He clearly must have thought so.

‘’This one is a more casual arrangement; People I don’t want to be seen with publicly, make yourself scarce. Don’t come back till after three.’’ Alexi slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, sliding out his black plastic and pushing it across the granite surface toward me. I just blink at the credit card and then at him with a questioning expression. He still carries on with his papers and doesn’t look my way.

‘’Go pick a new wardrobe. I want you dressing a little sexier in the evenings, and get a few formal dresses for events I have coming up that I’d like you to attend with me. I need a date that knows how to mingle socially and hold up intelligent conversations.’’ Commanding and emotionless, telling me what to do even if it is with his money.

‘’Another Demagio type arrangement?’’ I snap, even though I am trying not to let him get to me but his arrogant attitude and whole non-reaction to me coming down has me feeling like I want to kick him in the shins with pointed shoes. Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

‘’No. I told you, that won’t ever happen again. The only man who gets to touch you is me.’’ He drops his papers and pulls his food towards him, sliding his mug aside as I watch him silently. Simmering inside with weird hateful vibes that I cannot quite pinpoint. He just makes me so angry.

‘’So, we’re still on that? Sex didn’t cure you of that then.’’ I roll my eyes and glare at him, bringing it up myself because, to be honest, it’s pissing me off that he’s acting like we didn’t have sex, and damn good sex half the fucking night. It WAS good sex and that’s rare.

‘’I didn’t think it would, I just wanted to fuck you and show you who was boss. All last night did was secure the fact that I own you; you are disappointingly easy to manipulate for someone I had high hopes for. Your reputation is more than your skill London, and I was expecting fireworks and bedroom acrobatics, not tears and having to play nice.’’ And there’s that sadistic smug smirk as he focuses on his food. Every reason in his words that remind me why I despise this prick so much. I know that is not a joke. He’s not being arrogant or funny, he’s being dickhead Carrero.

‘’This is getting old. You need therapy. I don’t find anything attractive in this childish ownership bullshit you have going on and maybe you should find a new hobby or a fucking shrink.’’ I get up angrily, bubbling inside with hot lava and rage, not caring if I have food coming. He just crushed me by implying sex was dull and treating me like shit. I am not staying for this bull crap, tears burning in the back of my eyes, but he catches my wrist and yanks me back to him, so I plonk back down on the stool. He’s harsh and aggressive and sometimes makes me want to gauge his eyes out.

‘’You’re my new hobby. Get used to the attention, last night wasn’t a one-off and next time you will learn your place. You present a challenge, a little wildcat I want to tame and discipline and show how to behave in a way which befits something belonging to me.’’ This time it’s a sardonic smile, a confident tone that wreaks seriousness and I glare hatefully because I know he means every stupid word coming out of that idiotic mouth of his. This just went to a whole new level of war.

‘’Fuck off! Honest to God I cannot stand you and last night will never happen again. You were a mistake and a lame one at that, I have had better sex with my little finger.’’ I spit it at him, and he just grins at me like it’s the funniest thing he’s heard all day and rattles my temper some more. ‘’Getting under your skin, London? You’re losing your cool way more than you used to. You’re not that great an actress and I know for a fact if I dragged you upstairs right now, you would be as willing as you were last night. I can almost see your panties dropping at the thought.’’ Sarcasm is thick, and he drops my wrists and goes back to his plate, casually picking up his sandwich and taking a bite nonchalantly. He just looks cocky and self-assured that he’s ‘da man’ and the urge to knock his latte over his nice trousers is

overwhelming. I toss his credit card back at him with rage in my veins and I aim it for his face but it misses and whizzes past his shoulder instead. Not that he seems to care or even acknowledge it, he’s too busy acting like I am an annoying mosquito that he is great at ignoring.

‘’I don’t need you adding more debt to my tab and drawing out this agony for longer. I’ll pay for my own clothes and you should know … I’m going apartment hunting, so I’ll be back when I am back.’’ I toss my hair over my shoulder bitchily and slide off my chair defiantly, walking off towards the inner door, so I can go retrieve my bag from upstairs, moving swiftly so I am out of reach quickly, but he stays put.

‘’We’ll see. Looking for an apartment is one thing. Being allowed to move out is another.’’ He calls after me with that shitty tone of arrogant prick that thinks he can rule everything about me, and I don’t know how one man can make a couple of deadpan sentences sound like the most rage inducing thing in the world—but he is supreme at it.

He slides his half-eaten food further along the bar towards me, out of his way, done with it and goes back to looking at his goddamn paperwork.

‘’I swear to fucking God!!!’’ I spin on him angrily, losing all remnants of cool and yelling it at him. ‘’You realise you are an arsehole, like seriously? You need to get a bloody grip. NEWSFLASH ALEXI! You cannot control someone who doesn’t want to be owned! How are you going to stop me? Tie me up and lock me in this club? Take away my privileges of getting to go outside and chain me to the fucking floor? Lock me in a cupboard and keep me there indefinitely? I would like to see you fucking try, you complete prick!’’ I am practically stamping my foot at him, and he’s just infuriatingly cool, watching me with that empty expression and those lifeless, colourless eyes. Unfazed, uncaring and completely fucking devoid of humanity.

‘’Push me and see.’’ It's not even raised in volume or tone. Infuriatingly unaffected while I’m bubbling like molten metal over here.

‘’You have got to stop with the threats and the constant trying to put the fear of God into me. I don’t care!!! Do your worst—fuck me or beat me, defile me and crush me down like a worthless piece of shit that you found on your shoe. You wouldn’t be doing anything I haven’t already lived through, so if you thought you had an upper hand, then forget it. I can survive worse than you can throw at me so bring it on. I am so done with your bullshit Carrero, you are not the worst shit I have endured and if you are trying to break me then good luck … I died a long time ago and this is the fucking result.’’ I exhale after my mini rant and try to compose myself. So fuelled with anger and breathing hard as my lungs strain against my outburst, my face flushed with effort and body burning with exertion.

I really despise that he just draws this out of me effortlessly and I feel like he’s trying to make me insane, slowly but surely. A man who can suffocate you without laying a finger on you, another accomplishment he would be proud of no doubt.

‘‘PMS? Or just woke up in the wrong bed and a massive case of ‘why didn’t he want to cuddle with me after I let him fuck me’?’’ He smirks at me, mocking me with a convincing British accent and I just flip with that one little arrogant smug as fuck face and dickhead laugh.

I pick up his plate of food which is nearer me than him and throw it over him, rather well aimed and surprisingly direct to the target, before tossing the porcelain over his head like a Frisbee for effect and smashing it across the floor.

‘‘If I’m going to be punished then maybe I’ll start making it worthwhile!’’ I snap at him and turn to walk away, heart pounding as he sits completely still and silent as salad rolls down his expensive clothes. I have no actual fucks to give, he’s infuriating on every level and I want him to snap and strangle me to death, put me out of my misery once and for all.

The bar girl comes back with the food I ordered and halts in open-mouthed shock as she catches sight of Carrero wearing his breakfast and does a double take from him to me and then back again

sheepishly, all colour draining from her face. She has the sense to feel instant fear on my behalf. ‘’Better give it to him; I think he might still be hungry.’’ I snap at her too as I pass and try not to break into a run before he comes after me. I know it’s inevitable, but I am not waiting around for that. If I get my arse out of this club and into the street he’s less likely to physically hurt me.

I hear the scrape of bar stool on wooden floor and my heart literally jumps into my mouth, instant regret hitting hard, and I know I better run like the wind. Carrero obviously took a moment to digest what I just did and now he’s raging.

Reaction overtakes thought and impulsively I freak the fuck out. I don’t look back, just break into a sprint in high shoes, aiming for the corridor to the back entrance and take off at speed. Apt at high heel running when I must. I have never been so petrified in my life, and even in four-inch heels I get to the door in record time and slide past his two goons who are napping on the job.

I keep my access card in my bra and with a swipe I’m out in the morning sun, in New York’s grey air, hightailing it down the side alley and up towards the front of the building to try and find a way out or a cab. I don’t care if I have no bag or coat. I can charge most shit to my account or go find a bank in the city to withdraw cash and keep out of the way all day until he simmers.

I need to get the hell away from him while he cools down, and I am not coming back until he does, it’s a bit like lighting a fuse and realising you better move away from the blast zone until it settles. Mr Dynamite is burning away and getting ready to go ‘Kaboom’.