The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) novel Chapter 86

I know fine well she’s called Joanne, but I’ll be damned if he thinks I give a shit about his woman in any way, shape or form. He chose that rancid slut as his bedfellow and hostess, so he can choke on it. He chose her over me. I hope she gave him STDs.

‘She hasn’t been the best choice and now the club is losing money.’ Again, he looks at the floor, and if it wasn’t Alexi the tosser Carrero he would seem defeated and a little submissive. I know better. He’s trying to manipulate me into doing what he wants.

‘Boo hoo. Should have thought about that before you kicked me to the curb then, shouldn’t you?’ I turn away from him and walk to the kitchen with a satisfied smirk, not falling for his BS, to retrieve a drink of water to soothe my parched and raspy throat. Also needing a little head space as his ever-looming presence fills my room like a black cloud. I hate that no matter what; he just pulls all the air out of my orbit effortlessly. It’s like he has his own gravity and I am eternally sucked in by it.

Opening the fridge for the bottles I keep there; I realise it isn’t even on. I close and open it again before feeling inside—it’s completely warm; the sour smell of food going off tells me another shitty appliance in here has packed in and I sigh. Slamming it shut angrily because it’s something else I don’t need right now … I have enough stress. Another little notch on the crap list of crappier things that are trying to send me over the edge this week. My cooker doesn’t work. Now the god damn fridge doesn’t work. The shower already packed in and baths are temperamental. I don’t have a microwave after it exploded and now, I don’t have the money to think about buying anything anymore.

Will anything else go wrong in this godforsaken place this week?

‘I’ll make it worth your while.’ Alexi is behind me almost instantly, scaring the bejesus out of me, and I jump in obvious reaction because I was distracted and didn’t hear him sneak up on me. Cursing him out mentally for scaring me this way, it’s still a sensitive scar—people close behind me in any way. He was probably peering at the darn refrigerator too and I shove him back with my arse aggressively in a bid to make him move, hating that he crept up behind me into my space and made me uncomfortable. Hating that he saw my shitty, empty, rotting broken fridge and knows I am up shit creek with nothing that works. I stalk across the room noisily, sulkily, making it clear I need space from him, carrying my lukewarm bottle even though I have no desire to drink it now.

‘Doubt it.’ I shrug and plonk it on the wobbly table beside my mirror, catching sight of how awful I look, and it’s a shock to the system even though it’s hardly a new reflection … a little punch to the stomach.

My face is black and blue, now that time has allowed it all to come out. My nose is swollen and my top lip has a split that I didn’t see until it got this bad from expansion. I look like I have been run over, specifically my head, and it’s no wonder Alexi is staring at me so weirdly. I would stare too. I look like Quasimodo’s little sister by all accounts.

Brown lifeless hair in a messy bun on my head from sleeping in it, hair falling down everywhere in haphazard untidiness, and I look pale and skinny with crazily huge eyes. A mere shell of the girl he knew and it’s a wonder he thinks I’m capable of being his hostess once more when I look like utter crap. Meghan baby, you really are a plain Jane with shit taste and no skill in making yourself presentable.

Alexi looks at the floor between his feet, and I can’t tell if he is trying to keep that infernal temper of his under control or whether he is at a loss on how to proceed. He seems different but maybe that’s because I’m different.

That hopeless love-sick weak-willed idiot who threw herself at his mercy is now a cold-hearted shadow who wants nothing to do with him. I wouldn’t care if he got up and walked straight back out of my door. In fact, it would give me great joy to see him leave. I wouldn’t cry one single tear if he disappeared back out into the beyond to never return again—I cried over him enough in the first days of leaving, and I won’t ever do it again. I guess he can sense he has lost his edge and is coming up with some devious plan to put me back in line. That’s what he does.

Not a chance, New York!

‘You can have ten percent of the club, use of the apartment above … without me staying there, and a wage rise from managing hostess to club manager; Full control of the club and all aspects of running it.’ He looks up as he says it, disarmingly honest faced and soft, and everything in me flushes down to my toes in surprise as my heart somersaults at the unexpectedness of it. The offer or the look, I have no clue.

He makes me feel uneasy and I look away again, forgetting for a moment how much I hate him when he’s hitting me with an offer that actually makes me second guess my decision to tell him to go fuck himself. I hesitate, swallowing down the sudden lurch of stomach to mouth and fluttering wings in my chest. Instantly light-headed as though anxiety has perked up and my knees go all weak and weird. It’s not like he’s asking me to fuck him, but somehow it has the same internal response.

‘Why would you offer me all that after you tried so hard to get rid of me? You dodged answering that … but I need to know!’ I am the one to lock eyes on him this time, keeping my distance because I don’t trust him to come near me and yet, I can’t help believing him.

I know Alexi when he is in manipulation mode and right now, it’s all deadpan business and lack of devious. He looks relaxed and normal; human like. I saw this version of him when he put his money and club before everything, and we had rare genuine moments between us where our only concern was keeping it ticking over. It is one version of him maybe I can believe in; the businessman who cares about one of his endeavours.

‘I told you … the club is losing money and clients, and it’s running itself into the ground. You built it, you made it tick and I need you to do that again. Only this time with security over your position, so you can’t be made to walk away.’

He’s clever, I’ll give him that. Dangling a part of my club in front of me to own and hold as mine. Even if he wants me gone, I’ll still get a cut of the profits as long as he legally gives me the ten percent. He’s offering a binding agreement in case he has a little temper tantrum and tries to push me out again—he thinks it will sway me.

It’s tempting; so is the apartment, knowing he would never be in it, but I just can’t.

The swirling knot of sickening tension in my stomach is acting as a healthy sign of foreboding. Never get into bed with this man … he will fuck you, fuck you over and fuck you clean out the window without a second look. He did it to me spectacularly.

‘So, you found a use for me and decided it was time to pick me back up out of the gutter, right?’ I can’t hide the hurt in my voice or the disdain, even trying, and Alexi sighs heavily at my tone. He is still seated, rubbing his palms together slowly, and moves to lounge casually back on the couch to watch me further; taking over his space. Obviously annoyed that this isn’t going how he planned, but then he isn’t actually trying hard.

Where is all that charm and easy schmoozing?

He just seems half-arsed and more interested in staring at me than using his actual skill in convincing me. This isn’t the negotiator and lord of mind games I know and despise—this is some weak offer with no real conviction.

Must not want me at his club that bad after all!

I just shake my head at him in utter disappointment that even when throwing me a deal, it seems begrudged … or something. I actually don’t know what it is. He’s infuriatingly unreadable, even if his heavy exhales and frowns hint that he’s frustrated.

‘You want me to say I’m sorry?’ Alexi jumps to his feet suddenly, startling me out of my own head and walks towards me. He stops when I back away into the corner, panic hitting my face as everything inside of me tumbles into my toes feebly. Knocked by his sudden movements and losing every ounce of courage. His face changes subtly from determined and serious to another unreadable expression, less determined and serious. I don’t even try to fathom what it is, because he looks as tired as I feel, yet I know it’s probably an act. He is the one single male on the planet I have never been able to read in any way, even knowing some of his tiny tells. I know for sure; he never shows you what’s really going on under his mask … it’s always illusion.

‘Maybe,’ I shrug with one shoulder sarcastically, in a bid to dismiss my responses, cover my stumble. Glaring at him now he’s closer as a warning to back off—nervy of his proximity and back to fighting my bodily reactions to this man.

‘I’m sorry. Is that what you need to hear? I’m sorry for how it panned out, how it ended. I’m sorry for all that I did and said … I was wrong … I was an asshole. I. Am. Sorry! I NEED you in my club, Cam. My club needs you back at the helm once more. ‘

Alexi and his amazing attempt at genuine sorrow, worthy of an Oscar with that almost believable performance. Almost! I can’t help the bitter taste that consumes me and the internal anger that comes out of me so easily. I shake my head and do to him what he did to me when I put myself out there and tried to tell him how I felt, fuelled with complete abhorrence at his pitiful attempts. I applaud his efforts; clapping my hands softly and send a fake smile his way.

‘Well done. Almost believed you for a moment and then I remembered, you’re incapable of remorse or guilt, and I don’t actually care about your club. It’s nothing to do with me anymore and it can sink for all I care.’ I drop my hands and just stand my ground, obvious toxicity in my tone, watching that unemotional face as he scans mine, and we stand locked in a silent war of stubborn minds—Neither willing to back down, and neither capable of doing so.

‘Well, that’s a lie.’ He smarts at my response, irritation rising for sure and I just raise a smug brow and smile at him as if to say ‘Really?’ Alexi’s calm demeanour sizzles away fast.

‘You want to stay here, in this shithole and go back to what? Waiting tables in that little pink dress on your floor over there, Meghan? Really looks like you’re doing so well for yourself.’ He pans the room with his hand and frowns my way, knowing he has the upper hand in what he is offering, but I really do not give a crap. I hate that he obviously picked up my dress and read my name badge … nosy bastard!

‘I would rather rot here, wasting myself in a diner than ever get stuck in the same place as you again. Been there, done it and own the fucking t-shirt!’ This time there is real venom in my voice, bruised heart showing through because he has me backed against a wall, and he knows it. My life is shit and I’m in a desolate place with a bleak future that anyone can see with one look at this place. He is offering me a real way out, a way back to something I want, and yet, I would rather suffer in hell than let him play with my head again … than let him act as the hero, when really all I would become is his little pawn to pull to pieces and throw in the gutter when he was done; All over again.

I am no fool that cannot see past him this time. Alexi is a cold bastard who only cares about what’s good for business and what keeps him amused. He plays games, he uses people, and he discarded me when I lost what little leverage, I had in his world. It would just repeat all over again.

‘This is business, it wouldn’t be the same,’ he implores in a gentler tone, trying to simmer that burning fire I can see so clearly in the tight jaw and straight brow, but I can’t simmer my own volcano now he’s stirred it up.

‘It was meant to be business last time, until you fucked me. Do you remember that Alexi? YOU fucked ME! You are the one who took it from that to the train wreck it became. Why the hell would I give you a second chance at it? What’s the matter? You disappointed that the gun jammed, huh? Want a do-over?’ I spit my words at him, tears biting at me from nowhere as I stupidly let him get to me. Being tired and poorly really plays havoc with my ability to cope emotionally, and he’s an arsehole who pulls this shit out of me. I try and hold it together, really pull it back inside, until I can barely see through the blurry haze of misty eyes, aching throat from trying so hard not to cry and hating that he still gets to me like this.

‘I never wanted that. Why do you think I tried to stop you?’ Alexi walks at me again, eyes flashing with anger at my accusation and I back away from him at speed, this time banging my back on the wall and slide down as fear makes my legs crumble. He caught me off guard, upset and struggling to pull myself together. It’s no wonder I overreact. He still has that effect on me even now and I curse myself for letting him see it; Hating my own pathetic inability to stand up to him when I am emotionally low.

Alexi stops suddenly, surprised by my response especially since half an hour ago I was trying to take his head off, and he moves back. His eyes on me as I cower down here, and he turns away to stare across the room, the side of his profile on show and I watch silently as he tenses his jaw off and on as though he’s trying to regain his calmer demeanour. He takes a moment and looks back at me and I swear for a tiny flicker of a moment I see guilt, apprehension and something else—real regret—maybe. I just don’t know.

I flush with shame at behaving this way and struggle to bring back some of my sass. Camilla is fading into fatigue and I need her to keep me strong in his presence.

‘I’m not going to hurt you, in any way, I swear.’ He breathes it out softly, almost endearingly but I’m not dumb enough to fall for that shit. His hand twitches by his side as though he’s contemplating a hand to help me up, but knows I will refuse again. I just blink away the evidence of my pain and try to stop it all pouring out more effectively.

‘I don’t believe you. You’re not capable of making that promise.’ My voice shakes, honest emotion breaking through finally, and I inwardly slap myself for letting him see me break. Months of building up resistance to his effects and it comes down in minutes of his appearance. I haven’t moved on at all.

Alexi looks at the floor, frowning. A look of shame washing over his face in a flicker and then it’s gone.

‘I need you in the club, at work. That’s all I am asking for. I will keep my distance, give you space and control and you can negotiate the terms you want. You won’t be mine anymore … You will be a partner in business and can leave whenever you please. I will stay the fuck away if that’s what you need me to do. I won’t cross the line where you are concerned.’