The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

He’s back in minutes with a freshly styled do that adds to that groomed perfection of his as he pulls his jacket on one sleeve.
Body emphasised by what he’s wearing and I am instantly drawn like a magnet to look at him. My eyes scan impulsively,
immediately to the one thing that stands severely out of place, and causes an instant nervousness deep down in my gut; A tight
chokehold on my stomach.
‘Why are you carrying tonight?’ I nod towards the holster under his armpit, face dropping as seriousness hits me to dampen my
libido. His gun on show and he just ignores me and continues putting on his jacket smoothly to cover it up. Something in my
stomach swirls with unease, nerves rising as suspicion hits me and I move closer to him.
‘Alexi? You never carry when you’re going to dinner. Why are you taking a gun?’ Sixth sense has all my alarms firing and my
palms get instantly sweaty as nerves eat away at me. Something deep down alerting me to this one detail and I can’t shake it
away; A deep achy unease of something being wrong.
I have watched him come and go from this club, been with him at dinners, parties and such ... he NEVER carries when he goes
to these things. That’s why he has security with him instead.
‘Sometimes I do.’ He avoids my eyes, voice strained and husky as he tries to dismiss me and I know it’s a lie. I can tell. I don’t
know how but I do. In all the months of knowing him, never being able to second guess when he’s honest, yet right now, I just
know. It kicks me low down with a fresh pang of pain.
‘Is Mico going with you?’ my voice is higher, hints of anxiety peeking up as I get more internally hysterical, and he is doing his
best to avoid me, dodging me as I follow him around like a persistent child. He walks away from me to use the mirror for his final
check on appearance as he rights his jacket and buttons it up carefully.
‘Of course,’ he answers flatly and that just tips me over. The complete obvious in what he just said.
Mico is going with him!
Mico is ALWAYS armed for this reason. Meaning he has no need of this unless his gut is telling him otherwise. Something in him
telling him he needs extra protection tonight.
I swear everything inside of me turns to instant stone and grips me coldly. My lip trembles as I am hit full force with a wave of
gut-wrenching concern for his safety, so strong I can almost taste it.
‘What kind of dinner? With who? Where?’ I question like the Gestapo, getting more and more worked up, my voice straining with
emotion as he tries to get around me and sighs as I block his path. Getting in his way and hindering his progress.

‘You’re making me late.’ He says calmly, a little hint of a sigh but not annoyance. Alexi isn’t getting pissed with my behaviour,
which means I have hit on something truthful and it only serves to make me worse. He moves me with gentle hands on my
shoulder, but I grip onto one of them as he goes to leave, and cling on tightly.
‘Alexi stop it ... You’re scaring me ... You don’t carry a gun, EVER, when you go out to these things. If you feel something that
tells you that you need it, then don’t go ... stay with me. Stay here.’ I beg him, tears hitting me from nowhere, terror clutching at
my insides cruelly; twisting my guts all up into knots with danger bells ringing in my head deafeningly. I can barely catch my
breath.
Alexi just stops and turns his eyes to mine, slowly inhaling and pulls me close to him with a sense of complete calmness. Facially
against him, so our body heat meets, but I’m too wound up to get any other reaction. His whole manner is that of the guy who
cuddled me after finding Feral—softly, softly.
I don’t trust it one bit.
‘I know what I’m doing. This is my world.’ He leans in and kisses me on the forehead, unexpectedly tender and lingers for a
second, while I breathe him in and close my eyes at the forbidden touch between us. He throws me completely off guard and I
can’t stand it anymore, eyes flashing open as my brain connects the dots with a more intense agony.
It’s too weird ... it’s too much like a ‘goodbye’ for my liking and I don’t let him go; both hands on his wrist as he tries to walk out
and I hold with all my might. I dig my heels in and don’t care if I am acting like an insane person. I won’t let him walk out that
door. Every instinct is telling me he shouldn’t leave.
‘You’re not going. I won’t let you ... in fact ... if you go ... if you leave ... I’ll never forgive you. Ever! I’ll pack my bags and run
away, I’ll go somewhere you can never find me and screw your stupid club.’ I start crying. Words tumbling out in a rambling mess
of shaking voice and trembling limbs, gripping on with everything I have in me as he tries to pry my hands from him without
hurting me. Panicking while Alexi looks surprised at my venomous threats and stops in his endeavours to get me off him. He
swallows noticeably as he returns that pale, calm gaze to my face and stops me fighting with a gentle stroke across my face,
moving hair from my damp cheek.
‘Careful baby, I might think you care.’ He smiles softly, a gentle look in his eyes as he traces a tear from my skin with his thumb
and wipes it away carefully. Distracted by him, he manages to slide his arm out of my hold and I just shake my head desperately.
It calms my internal chaos for just a fraction of a moment; enough that he manages to get space between us while I’m stunned at
the tenderness of his action. Then fear grips me as he turns and walks away quickly, knowing he needs to go before I grab him

again. He moves fast and doesn’t look back.
‘Alexi, don’t ...’ I croak, voice cracking as I impulsively run after him into the hall, he walks right into the open lift before turning
and stopping me from following him with a raised palm. He looks tense, not angry or agitated, just pleading, with an expression
that makes me want to wrap myself around him and never let him out of my sight.
‘Trust me. I’m coming back.’ It’s all he utters, and I stand sobbing and clinging to myself, hugged by my own arms which aren’t
comforting. The door slides shut between us and I start to hyperventilate as it all comes crashing in on me. That sense of
complete emotional breakdown because he’s not listening and I feel like everything is spiralling out of my control.
I run to the button and press it hard, over and over in a bid to get it open once more, or one of the two lifts to open up. All I can
see is his one going down on the counter under the button. With every second my internal angst intensifies. I can’t breathe
properly, gasping and panting as I shiver and shake.
‘Don’t you fucking dare, Alexi!!!’ I scream at the chrome doors, blinded by my tears, willing him to listen, even if he’s already
gone.
‘Don’t leave me!’ I sob as I claw at them in a bid to open them manually, but they still take an age.
My heart hammers inside of me as something tells me he knows he’s walking into a trap. He knows something, which means,
tonight, he may not have a choice but to be armed. He has a sixth sense and truly knows this world, so if he believes something
is amiss and is taking extra precautions for his own safety, it means something really bad is going on. In his world—bad means
something along the lines of most normal people’s nightmares. Bad means Alexi is in really deep shit ... Which means there’s a
chance he may not ever come home.
I can’t think straight. My mind falling into pieces of broken shards and shambles around my feet and I try to pull myself together,
try to be rational about this.
I wish I didn’t love him ... I wish I didn’t care, but my heart is shredding and when the dumb door finally opens I throw myself in
without hesitation. Stabbing the G button with a force that almost cracks my nail, and I start pacing frantically as I wait for it to
move. Clawing at my hair as it finally slides shut and feels like it takes hours to descend to the lower floors.
I dash out in frantically, no shoes on, looking a fright with makeup dripping off my chin amid a torrent of tears, and can only see
the normal floor security milling around as the back-door swings shut painfully slow because of its safety hinges.

He must have already gone out and I run, pushing past them manically, as I get startled looks, yanking it open and pull myself
out into the darkness, assaulted by the cool night air. I can only see the backlights, glowing red in the darkness, of Mico’s car
leaving—too far to be stopped and already out of the gate. My mind scrambling into high alert mode, and I wonder if I can get to
the front door to stop them in the street before they get any further.
I turn, mind set on hell-bent crazy and desperate to just stop him in any way I can, and run smack bang into Jackson. It’s like
hitting a warm padded wall at force and I gasp in stunned shock as a minor ache hits my whole body with the collision. I am still
sobbing and acting like a crazy lady as he catches hold of me.
‘Miss Camilla, what’s wrong?’ He gives me a weird hug, fully capturing my limp form as he holds me still, calming my flailing
limbs and keeping me rooted to the spot.
‘We have to stop him ... Something’s wrong ... I can feel it. Alexi needs to come back.’ It’s out in a whoosh of broken, breathy,
tear-laden words as I swallow and choke trying to get them out, and Jackson’s face tightens. A calm coming over him as he
seems to understand exactly what I mean and nods in a very soft and fatherly way at me, while patting my back gently. My body
is straining and buzzing with energy to run after Alexi, but he’s not letting me.
‘He knows what he is doing, don’t ever question that. Alexi has more instinct for things than any of us, so he wouldn’t go if he
didn’t know what he was walking into.’ He squeezes me reassuringly. Still a tight grip, but I shake my head, brushing away his
sense and sniffing back a gulp of even more tears.
‘He’s stubborn and pig-headed and sometimes blinded by it. His luck has to run out one day. I need to stop him.’ I wail it at him
but Jackson turns me, coercing me into his arm, pushing aside my fight as he slides it around me and walks me back to the lift
forcefully.
‘He’s surrounded by men who would take a bullet for him any day of the week. He has nothing to worry about,’ he soothes kindly.
‘Then why does he need a gun with him?’ I baulk desperately.
‘Sometimes he likes to have an extra layer of security. You know him, Miss Camilla; he is always two steps ahead and sees
everything coming. He’s going to be just fine!’
Jackson is calming the worst of my hysteria as logic starts to move in and unfog my brain, knowing he is right ... In this anyway.
Alexi is what he is because of his crazy skill at reading situations and people, and always being ahead of his game. He’s
ruthless, but he’s clever. He wouldn’t walk into a trap without all his avenues being covered and Jackson is right. He is known for

overplaying the safety factor. It’s why he is still breathing. It’s why he suffocates me with security and over protectiveness.
‘He told me to make sure you stayed put ... To take care of you. Let’s get you upstairs and a drink to calm you down. Alexi will be
back by ten or eleven, and you will see for yourself, everything’s fine.’ He is trying so hard to bring back my sanity with soft talk
and gentle pats on my shoulder and I stop fighting him, somewhere in my head, I start to listen. Needing this reassurance so
badly as nausea circles and swishes my stomach to death. I sniff and brush away the tears, blinking at him in utter vulnerable
defeat, clinging to his words.
‘He told you to make me stay? To take care of me?’ I blubber, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. Jackson nods and I
know that Alexi must have known I would follow him down in the state I was in. Stopping me—which only adds fuel to my
unease, but I am trying to self-calm before I turn myself inside out with my own over thinking.
‘Mico and Daniels are with him, and he has taken extra men tonight. Two cars ... eight men. He’s playing safe and he’s got
everyone armed just in case. He knows how to handle this business. He’s had a lifetime doing it.’ Jackson’s words are starting to
filter through, making sense of my manic panic and I take long deep breaths, tilting my face up to him very childlike—my voice
fragile.
‘Really? You really think so?’ I ask him meekly when the doors slide on us and we are held in the small lift as it starts to move.
‘He plays safe ... if he thought he was in real danger, he would never go. He has an ego but he’s not stupid. This business is
bigger than him and he knows it. He knows there are people who rely on him being here, so he wouldn’t deliberately throw
himself in harm’s way. It’s not how we Carreros operate.’
Jackson is doing a good job of bringing me down, but I am still so completely overwhelmed with the tightening knots of anxiety
that are pushing my heart rate to painful rates.
‘Maybe I should call him ... to be sure.’ I nod at him erratically, seeking permission, not really inside my own mind and grasping
stupidly. I may not have been able to stop him leaving but I can talk to him, hear his voice, and convince him to come back.
‘Maybe, just to put your mind at ease; Get yourself to calm down if he tells you himself, he’s fine—He will be fine. He always is.’
Jackson gives me a small squeeze, I guess to add weight to his words and I swallow down the last of my over emotional
outburst.
‘Right ... You’re right. I’m being stupid. I don’t need you to come in.’ I nod again letting him go as we open on the apartment floor
and give myself a shake. Calmer head on calling Alexi and just trying to stop acting like some irrational psycho having a weird
meltdown.

He’s right. This is Alexi’s world ... he’s king player for a reason, and I’m sure his gut instincts are a lot better than mine. In fact, I
know it. He’s a cold killer with a quick mind and sadistic streak. I know that more than anyone. He’s a name of foreboding for a
reason, and he’s made it to thirty-two years old without once coming close to death, as far as I know.