The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) novel Chapter 92

I had nothing my whole life. This place was everything—home, safety, security and warmth. It was all I ever wanted in my life. It doesn’t deserve to be neglected like this. These walls deserve care.

Alexi just stands there, infuriatingly quiet, watching me, and I am not sure he even heard me. He just stares as I cry softly and stare at the mirror as though I can will it back into one piece. I am in so much internal pain and distress.

‘Alexi!’ I yell at him, bringing myself back to tear my gaze away from the ruins. Frustrated and slamming the boudoir door behind me to close out the stench which is still wafting our way. I have no desire to check the others, and wipe a tear from my cheek that is rolling over my skin.

She has destroyed my home. I won’t leave it like this, in the hands of some inadequate hoe bag. I won’t walk away and let it crumble into disrepair. I can practically hear its walls crying out for me to come save it. He offered this to me … he offered a real piece of owning it. It’s not just ‘come back and be my servant’ … he offered me a real chance at ownership and being important in this place.

My brain is in chaos, torn between my heart and my head, and I know it’s stupid to be impulsive when I am feeling this way. I should leave and really consider his offer and what that means for my future.

‘Twenty-five percent.’ It’s all he says, eyes on me, completely serious and I blink at him, sniffing back the upset and my flu, eyes from him to the bar and back again as my brain tries to push away the emotional irrational fog that is clouding logic.

I know I’m tired, sick, upset and I should walk away. It’s like I am glued to the spot and some weird dormant maternal instinct for my baby is refusing to back down.

He has seen the weakness and is playing hard ball while he has an opening. I know this and I should shoot him down. Forever the clever negotiator going in for a kill with something he knows will work. I’ve exposed a weakness and he intends to utilise it. I may as well use the upper hand if he really wants me back.

‘Eighty percent? It’s more mine than it has ever been yours. I want IT … not a connection to you.’ My brain is a whirring mass of clicks and spins as I try to pull it together and think about what I am agreeing to here. Voice raspy with feeling, he is seeing the Achilles Heel and diving right in. Master manipulator won’t miss out on my moment of low.

I’m too emotionally connected to this place, too close and it’s clouding my judgement. I should walk out and get some space and perspective to think about this, but my mouth and brain are not working as one. My heart is pounding like crazy.

‘Fifty … Equal shares. A partnership on paper but I will stay out of the running. I will make sure this club is worth your efforts and abide by your boundaries.’ He isn’t moving, isn’t breaking a sweat the way I am and I can’t just put it on being unwell. I know I am digging my own grave by even thinking about this but what do I have out there … Nothing; a shitty dead-end hole to walk home to, no job and no money—A constant threat of danger and hiding endlessly from old enemies. My life is pitiful and has been since I left here. I couldn’t sink any lower if I tried.

I was always safe here with him—even when he was making me lose my mind—he protected me, took care of me, even while torturing me.

Maybe with boundaries …?

‘And the apartment above as part of the deal.’ It’s out, even as my own head is trying to shake sense into me, reminding me that this club comes with a connection to him, always! I am too enraged at seeing it for myself. What she has done to my baby. Doubts and excuses and real hesitation as I try to argue with myself internally, but it’s falling by the wayside behind my impulsive stubborn brain.

‘It’s a part of the club, so fifty-fifty. It will be yours to use and I won’t stay there unless you allow it.’ He digs his heels in, that sombre tone giving way to business Alexi and that flash of something in his eye fuels my fire. He is calmly negotiating and moving closer so subtly that I don’t even react … too fuelled by chaotic mind mess.

‘I want full use without you staying there—EVER! Mine and mine alone. No walking in and out whenever you feel like it,’ I retort not backing down, and this time Alexi uncrosses his arms and scratches his jaw, eyes never leaving mine.

‘I can’t promise that; some nights I need to be here. I will always ask your permission first. It won’t be like before. You set rules and I will obey them.’ His eyes lock on mine intensely, something slightly warm in that nothing expression and the air seems to sizzle between us. He’s isn’t being the Carrero I know and that should put me on high alert, but insanely, I believe him.

I need a good slap for this level of naivety.

He knows he has a tiny hook in me and he’s clinging on in any way he can. I should walk away, but I can’t seem to.

He’s dangling a diamond encrusted carrot to a starving person with a bling fetish.

He’s being weirdly accommodating and it should be signalling all my warning bells but I have my eye on bigger goals and I can always tell him ‘no’ when he asks, right?

Hold him off … Keep him at arm’s length … Not like how it was before!

God, I am so fucking weak. Who am I kidding? This is stupid! RUN Camilla RUN, as fast and far away as you can. Alexi is not going to ever treat you well.

‘That wench can fuck off and stop interfering in how I run things. ‘Hoe-anne’ needs to go. I don’t ever want to lay eyes on her again. Not after this!’ I put my hands on my hips and nod my head at the room, stand my ground and face him, locked in a stand-off. I am angrily determined to put right what that idiot has done in here; even if that means living within arm’s reach of this tosser again. I can handle it this time.

My heart isn’t his anymore. I know what I am walking into this time. I know how to deal with him.

So I am telling myself over and over, wondering if I say it enough will I actually start to believe it.

I also never want to have to deal with that smug bitch ever again and forget what she was in my demise. It bites that he kept his slut around after he discarded me. I wonder if that’s a part of my reasoning not to back down. If I come back, I have the pleasure of kicking her out on her arse and I for one cannot let that opportunity slide by. It’s what she deserves!

‘She stays as your relief when you need time off. You can train someone else in the meantime and replace her when you have.’ Alexi isn’t budging either, even if he is trying to pretend he is a sane and stable person. I suppose he always was when it came to making money and business. His level head on and focus on his club. It’s when it came to me and sex that he turned into a raving lunatic.

That can work in my favour— just keep sex out of the equation this time and we should be fine … right?

‘I get full control of all the decisions and you just pay for it. No asking permission or arguing the point. I decide … you do!’ I raise my chin, widening my eyes at him to show I won’t back down on that one at all, in any way, and he just nods at me without any change of expression. My heart is hammering, body vibrating with adrenaline and I cannot believe I am actually negotiating this with him. Or that he is agreeing to my terms.

I cannot forget who this man is—even if he’s playing the role of sane and reasonable.

It feels like I am in an alternate universe or maybe I am high and not really here. Maybe I died on my apartment floor and this is the first stages of hell when they lure you into a false future before ripping the floor away and letting you drop into the fiery pit below. Alexi would definitely be a part of this— seeing as he is the devil incarnate.

‘Anything else?’ He brings me back to focus, head brimming so full I think it may pop. There’s nothing in his casual pose to suggest anything devious in his intention. God knows my eyes are scrutinising him for any hint of his known tells and I am getting nothing at all.

‘I get to move back upstairs, today … I am not ashamed to admit that I don’t want to go back to that apartment and have no energy or cash to do it anyway. I need to lie down and I don’t want to waste any time in checking this place over and start sorting out a list of things that need seeing to immediately. I want all the bookings cancelled until this place is deep cleaned and sanitised while I order all new stock.’ It’s a bolshie order, but if I am stupid enough to do this then I may as well commit and do it right. The thought of never having to go back to that dank room and crappy building isn’t exactly breaking me up inside. In fact, I am suddenly filled with renewed vigour and a tiny inkling of what could be mistaken for hope. To be in a warm safe bed tonight is my idea of heaven. No one could offer me anything more alluring than that.

‘Joanne can call all my clients herself and do that. Make use of her while she is still here—she’s your problem now.’ He moves to the bar and slides onto the nearest high stool, inspecting the surface with a look of irritation and avoids laying his hands on it. He turns to me, propping one leg up casually on the support of the seat under him. Leaning against the counter he lays an elbow on top instead of naked skin, obviously aware it’s not the cleanest. Believe it or not, Alexi is a bit of a germaphobe. Not majorly, he just likes things neat and precise and sanitary. I learned that from living with him.

‘This is going to cost you … that marble alone was fifty grand Alexi, and she’s turned it into a scratched-up piece of trash. It’s ruined.’ I point out, testing him to see if money chat will get a different reaction.

‘Whatever needs to be done do it. I don’t care what it costs. Just write me a list and send me the bills.’ Weirdly calm for him. Making agreements like it is second nature but I am not going to knock his out-of-character behaviour. He isn’t overly frigid when it comes to spending money on this place, not that I remember anyway, but that’s when it was being modelled from scratch. This place has already become a money pit after he spent a million dollars the first time around, and I am asking him to sink more cash into it. Not his usual approach to business, but I guess he’s partly trying to keep me sweet as we negotiate my coming back.

It’s obvious now why this place is going down the shitter, and I am not going to stand back and watch it sink.

‘Repainted, restyled, restocked. I want the cleaning crew in here tonight, this place is vile. I want it done my way—no matter what it is.’ That chin is lifting by itself, standing taller, finding my old self and my emotions are calming as I come to terms with this stupid decision I have made here. I am back in his grasp, voluntarily and yet, I feel nothing but numbness about that … maybe a tiny little ember of relief. I’m not sure yet what it is.

‘Fine.’ A small satisfied smile as he continues to watch me, standing here like a spare limb and losing all my fight and fury, fast.

‘Mico will collect my stuff from my apartment for me?’ I raise a brow at him, becoming overly aware of how crappy I must look as his eyes roll over me lazily. Now my distress is piping down and the shock of seeing this place is fading, I am suddenly overly sensitive to my haggard appearance and dirty hair. I want to at least get clean and put some makeup on, and maybe brush my birds nest. He makes you feel inadequate when he looks like he does.

‘Whenever you want, I’m not planning on staying here tonight, so it’s all yours. I have a meeting uptown which will run late, so you can have this whole place to yourself to pick apart and critique to your heart’s content. We can talk more tomorrow when I get back … get things rolling.’ Alexi is still pulling me apart with his gaze, so I turn and walk around as though to convey my indecision rather than move because he’s making me nervous now.

‘You said you would up my wage. I guess if I am part owner then that changes a few things?’ I ask timidly, now thinking about the fact I just cured my money issues in one fell sweep and the light-headed wooziness comes back. I went from minimum paid ex-waitress to club owner in less than an hour. My head can’t even dissect that yet. All the things I was close to tears over on that bench—fixed in one little Alexi Carrero sentence … Home, job, safety.

I can regret it later.

‘We can talk money tomorrow, so I can have my lawyer draft a contract for half the club and whatever tiny details you want included. I’ll make sure this is worth your while, Cam. I have to stay uptown until noon so there’s no rush to do anything except rest and reacclimatise to home.’ His tone pulls my eyes to him and the way he said that last word. Eerily soft and almost tender, even calling it that, and for a moment we lock eyes and I get a weird fluttering feeling in my gut I really do not like. He just sets a small smile on his annoyingly nice mouth and I break contact and look away, nerves hitching and try for a verbal distraction.

‘So, this is happening, you’re really going to just let me take half your club … the apartment … make changes … really?’ It’s like an afterthought as I calm down and my brain catches up, realising what I am doing to myself as bravado dies and reality starts to seep in. My doubts from the start of the conversation are finally getting stage space and I already know it’s too late to back down. My heart’s invested no matter how much my sense is telling me to leave. I made a knee-jerk decision because I was faced with a ruined club, and now I’m starting to let it sink in I’m having doubts that I can walk back in here and be around him again.

‘I told you I needed you back here. We’re negotiating it, aren’t we? I’m deadly serious.’ He sounds it too. I honestly no longer know how I feel. It’s all raw and mixed up and confusing. I feel like I am walking the edge of a large hole that’s trying to suck me in. I need thinking space.

‘You know this time won’t be like the last … there are boundaries that come with this, Alexi.’ I need to make it clear that I am not part of his empire, even if I do this. I am not part of what he owns anymore. I need to protect myself from a repeat of what came before. He needs to know that I am out of his grasp this time. I couldn’t live through any of that again, no matter how much I want my club back.

‘Such as?’ He is infuriatingly still as I fidget and pace, breathing laboured as I try to calm a rapid heart rate. The poise of the old me in tatters. No mask anymore, no more games. I’m scared, shitting myself at what I have agreed to do.

‘Me! You don’t get to tell me how to dress, who to date or how to behave. No punishments. No taking liberties or throwing your weight around. I’m not one of your toys anymore.’ It’s the first real genuine and heartfelt statement and comes out in the softest voice. I curse at myself for sounding vulnerable but I cannot take it back now. My hands tremble because this is where it really matters. This is where I can easily walk back out the door if he doesn’t agree.