The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) novel Chapter 150

“Do you want the textbook version?” He throws me a wary look and I nod gently, impatient to know more about him, even if I am feeling a little wary. Mentally storing the name to search on google when I’m alone. Even if he explains well, it won’t be enough and now I want to know everything there is to know about what it is. This is a major thing.

“It’s characterised by impulsive, irresponsible and criminal behaviour. Manipulation, deceit, lack of empathy, sometimes controlling behaviour. Aggression, violence, pushing people into things I want and not giving a shit what it does to them. Sex is often a weapon and something I know I use. Doesn’t exactly paint a good picture of me does it?” Alexi looks sombre, as though regretting telling me this, and realising he is doing the opposite of giving me a reason to trust him; for me, it’s not like that. He’s being honest about the worst of him and not hiding this from me. He is shining a light on the things that could earn my forgiveness, just by being truthful with me. Laying it out bare right in front of my eyes.

It’s not too dissimilar to him reading those damn journals.

“It sounds about right for you,” I utter softly, trying to lighten the atmosphere. In the back of my mind, I wonder if that means he’s incapable of promising to never hurt me again and something inside of me sinks like a lead weight, dashing hopes I never knew I had inside me. If he’s only partially in control of the things he does, then how could he stop himself from doing those things to me again.

I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to cry, a bitter disappointment flooding me I never saw coming, and that lump in my throat consumes me painfully. Biting at me sharply right in that void where my heart lives.

“I have a shrink and I don’t take meds. They don’t work. And before you came along and screwed my head up, I was doing okay. It’s hard to treat something like this when your job makes most of those traits a requirement, so my shrink is at a loss other than trying to keep me level. The only thing which helps when my head’s racing is alcohol. I self-medicate occasionally.” Alexi is so blunt and matter of fact about it, but his tapping thumb as he hits his thigh softly tells me otherwise. All that excessive energy I sometimes see brimming out is clear now. He’s putting a brave face on a difficult topic and I blink at him, losing all reservation as I lean towards him. I feel empty and just need to claw back some hope now I’m armed with this.

It also explains his alcohol consumption. He’s not spiralling down towards an addiction; he’s trying to keep himself centred.

“So, you can control it then? I mean, it’s not like having an alternate personality that takes over. Snapping and beating men up in nightclubs for daring to touch me.” I push gently, a hint of humour with my last jibe that goes with my cheeky hint of a smile. My heart hammering and breath paused because I truly want to know if whatever this is between us has a future. If this is something he can overcome for me. I don’t care how he treats the rest of the world, but I want to know if he can stay true to his promise that he will never hurt me again … never use sex as a weapon or crush my soul. If he can curb the violent outbursts I saw in Miami or if I’m doomed with a man who is unpredictable and hostile, and I would be smarter to run away.

“Mostly. I never had an emotional conflict that fucked me up the way you did before. You brought out the worst in me, but it’s not like that anymore. I told you I would never hurt you again and I never will. I promised and I won’t go back on that. I’m in control of me, most of the time. Miami was … booze, jealousy and a need to protect you. It was a one-off. I normally keep my shit together a hell of a lot better.”

This time he gives me a loaded look, something in me wants so badly to believe him and I can almost feel him willing me to believe. I look away, processing and trying to keep things lighter than they feel right now.

Miami was a lot of things, I guess. He saw a man all over me, and whether jealous or afraid I was being hurt, he snapped, epically. He could have killed him, and I can’t forget how he was that night. He pushed me away and sent me flying and then after, typical angry Alexi all up in my face. Although, he didn’t do anything to me, even though he was fuelled on rage and looking devilish to boot. Maybe the answer is in that memory already. He didn’t hurt me.

“I don’t know what to say. I honestly never imagined you had an actual reason for being how you are, or that I would ever see you with a psychiatrist. That’s a major thing.” I get up impulsively, hating that the more he opens up the more withdrawn and closed off his tone and expression is getting, and I know this must be unbearable for him. He’s trying not to recoil into the cold, silent sadist I know and hate and it’s obvious how much he is trying to give me this. He keeps switching from a casual pose, to upright stiffness, and I can’t sit over here aching for his warmth and watching it. It’s painful.

“Yeah. Not exactly something a Mafia boss wants to admit to having, but without him, I don’t think I would have any sanity left. Him and Mico, they are the sense when I lack it. Between them, they stop me going off the deep end and being worse than I am.”

Makes sense. I always said Mico was like Alexi’s walking conscience and I guess that is truer than I could ever have imagined. Alexi lacks the right emotional response to some things and Mico is there to point it out to him when he listens. It explains why he could be so cold to me and didn’t seem affected by things that would break other men.

I don’t know if I’m relieved to find this out about him or worried about how deep this goes. It unnerves me that this man might honestly never feel remorse for the things he does, even though he claims to know what remorse is. I watch him, my heart throbbing and my stomach turning over with a feeling that is very close to heartbreak. I feel wounded with the possibility that Alexi may never truly feel as deeply as he says he does, and I don’t like it at all.

His version of love might never live up to mine.

Instinctively, limbs moving without thought, I walk over and climb onto his lap, surprising him and curling up like a needy little kitten. Needing his touch as much as wanting to give it. I feel like he just tipped me all out of whack again and sent me on another spiralling freefall and I need reassurance. I need that sense of security his touch gives me.

He says nothing, just moves to accommodate me and I slide my arms around his neck, nestling into him, needing to feel him and needing to believe he can love me the way he says he does. I need that more than anything.

I want him to know what he’s saying isn’t scaring me away and I’m willing to give him a chance. It’s the first time since I met him, I can honestly say without a doubt he is being open and honest. I feel for him, truly. The pain he endured for something that was never his fault and he has tried all these years to fix himself. He wants to be a better man and that is the hope I’m clinging onto right now.

I never imagined in a million years he would tell me that.

I never imagined, even an hour ago, I would be the one making the first move to close the gap between us physically.

This Alexi, with all his flaws and putting himself out there—I like this guy. I could love this man if he can love me back. Maybe I can learn to trust him.

Alexi slides an arm around my waist to pull me closer and rests his forehead against mine gently. No hesitation with being tender and it pulls me in more. My arms sliding around those shoulders and I curl my legs into a neat little ball on top of him. His body locking me close as though he might never release me; that safety I always yearn for envelops me with his touch and everything in me calms to a less traumatic hum.

Warm and comfortable on a strong lap, pressed in the muscular arms of a firm body. He was built to be a protector. The perfect specimen of a man.

“I expected you to run for the hills already.” He utters softly, a new tone for him and possibly the most alluring in his whole arsenal, and I shrug. Feeling so much suddenly, tingling inside and out and I could stay like this forever. He somehow makes me feel right when everything around me is falling apart. Our conversation has quelled some of my ‘ready to run’ impulse because I think I want to console him more than I want to flee. The last minutes of chatter has blown my vision of him to pieces, and right this second, he’s just a wounded boy who needs my hug.

“I’m not very bright and as you always point out, I like getting myself into trouble. I don’t think I could find bigger trouble than you. I’m drawn to danger.” I giggle softly and it works to crack a handsome smile on his face. He exhales heavily, blowing out some of his own tension but keeping me close.

It’s probably the most honest moment of intimacy we have ever had. No games, no motives, just nose to nose, so close it’s like we are one and there’s stillness and peace between us. If my stupid head doesn’t kick in to make me jump ship and head for the hills, then I could get used to this.

“I know right from wrong if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not a psychopath and I do feel something when I … take care of business. Some of the things I do leave their mark. I feel remorse, for some things anyway, and I do love people that matter to me. I love you, that wasn’t a lie. I may not always have the right reactions to certain things but the basics of what I feel works, Cam. I’m capable of loving you and treating you right. Don’t be afraid of me.” Alexi’s voice is soft and husky, so close I can feel the air on my lips, and I gaze into those endless grey eyes.

It’s like he read my mind, dug into my thoughts and found the fear dwelling there. Alexi is still too good at second-guessing people, and in this instance, I’m glad to have his reassurances.

I look at him for a long time, my insides turning to mush but always with that little niggle of fear in the background.

“So … you found out you were problematic, and your mother still shunned you. Then what?” I try to get it back on track and away from this lovey-dovey talk, not ready to go down that route, and Alexi’s brow furrows a little. He knows I’m backing off from romance and love talk for now, that’s not what this hug was for, and he narrows a fixed gaze on my eyes. Taking the hint and realising this isn’t cuddling up for smoochiness.

“Gino and I were slowly growing apart. He didn’t understand or see what I could see. I resented him because of it. We looked identical, we are alike in so many ways, yet she adored him and hated me, and I couldn’t understand why. I blamed my brother rather than her, as screwed up as that sounds. It was easier to lay blame on anyone that wasn’t her. So, my behaviour got worse and I continued to be the outcast of the family. Always a loner and kept away from the get-togethers, even though she was the only one who pushed me out. The rest of them tried to bring me back into the fold and I guess it’s why I now have close bonds with so many of my cousins. They didn’t give up on me and welcomed me back with open arms.”

I see that respect and loyalty every day when his men are around him. Mico and Jackson, they adore him, and I can’t believe any of them would’ve pushed him aside before he was their commander. There are genuine bonds with his closest family, I see that. Another hint that he can, and does, form lasting relationships and controls his sadistic side. His mother though, what in the hell is she all about?

Fucking bitch.

“At thirteen, you shot someone to save her. That changed nothing?” I push gently, trying to understand the mechanics of their relationship. He obviously has some weird need to never blame her, and I just can’t fathom why.

Alexi is keeping me close to him in what feels like a natural and soothing position on his lap. Nothing sexual in his hold on me. He seems as happy as I am to be connected this way. It’s innocent and serves no purpose other than to give each other a little human contact while talking about something difficult. I don’t think we have had many moments where touch wasn’t loaded in sexual intent or some sort of manipulation. Maybe after Feral, now I think of it. He only intention was soothing me and that’s what I’m doing for him now.

“You would think, but no. It was our birthday; she was taking us for ice cream because it’s what Gino wanted. It happened so fast and it was him or us. I don’t remember thinking about it, or hesitating; I just knew I had to save us after our driver was taken down first. He dropped his gun and I did what I had to do. It was over in seconds.”

Just like that. A teenage boy with no previous experiences of doing anything like it and he stepped up to the plate like a hero.

“That’s why you don’t like birthdays either!”

He nods his head at me, and I screw up my face a little for him, curling up in his arms and lay my head against his chest without thinking about what I’m doing. It seems natural, and as I want him to keep talking, I know that not staring at his face might make him more comfortable to do so. Alexi slides his other arm around me and holds me close, as though this is what we always do. It seems necessary. I wish I had let this happen last night when I saw those journals. Maybe I wouldn’t have reacted half as bad.

“She was grateful at first, but then when it sank in, and she realised my response to what I did wasn’t normal, she changed. I had no remorse, no regret. In my head I had logically done the right thing, therefore I had no reason to feel any sort of guilt. I saved my family—it was him or us, and I truly couldn’t see the wrong in that. My father understood, but she was abhorred by my lack of emotion over it, and it was the nail in my coffin. She wanted me out of the house and away from my siblings, so sure I was going to turn out to be a serial killer and slaughter them all in their sleep. She and my father fought all night, we could hear them yelling in their room about how unhinged I was.”

The little tremor and hint of raw emotion as he trails off, says it hurt him deeply. To hear how his own mother thought of him as a monster, when all he did was protect her.

“Lexi, that’s horrible. She rewarded your heroism with repulsive behaviour. Your mother is a goddamn bitch who should have stood by her son and helped him when she knew he had something to explain his lack of feeling.” I retort angrily, pushing upright again and glaring at him as though she is sitting there instead. This impulsive anger shooting out from deep inside me with a fire that could melt glass.

“I killed someone, Cam. That’s not normal, and then I felt nothing but justification for what I did. That’s not normal either. Even I know that. A thirteen-year-old kid killing for the first time, I should have had some reaction to it! A trauma, maybe nightmares or some sort of after-effects. I had nothing.”

He tries to explain but there is no dowsing my hot-headed temper when it erupts.

“With what you have, then actually I think it’s perfectly fucking normal. You logically removed the guilt because you knew you did something good. Is she deluded? Did she miss the fact you were seeing a shrink for exactly that? Did she miss the fact you saved her fucking life and is still breathing because of you? Yes, you killed a man in self-defence and then you didn’t cry about it and fall to pieces. That’s pretty impressive in my book. I didn’t cry over watching my mother die at my feet, does that mean I’m crazy and unfit to be loved? I wanted to put the needle in her fucking arm myself and it was only a matter of time before I did. Self-preservation is a good fucking reason to feel nothing for taking a life or watching someone die without feeling. I think the only unhinged twat in your family has breasts and calls herself a fucking mother!” I rage at him, completely overwhelmed with volcanic hatred at the stupid cow who shunned her child after saving her life. On a rant of epic proportions because this has hit me so deeply and I can’t believe anyone can be so cruel and ungrateful.

Is she dense? He saved her goddamn life. He did what any man would do in that position, but he was a child, which makes it even more remarkable.

Alexi frowns at me like I’ve gone mad.

“Not exactly the response I was expecting.” He smiles at me, brushing hair back from my face and it only angers me more.

“Well, I’m not an anally retentive fucking arsehole who cares more about her reputation than her son who needed her. She can go fuck herself, Alexi. Your mother is a complete knob and half the reason you have issues!”

“A what?” Alexi bursts out laughing at my explosive outburst, a cheery break that sounds almost melodic in this heavy topic, and I glare at him. Not simmering in any way but I’m itching to march my arse to The Hamptons and give that woman a piece of my mind—and a slap.

“A dick!” I retort dryly and he laughs more. Amused with my British insults and maybe just my general reaction. I’m seething and he’s not really dampening it.

“You and Gino have the same view on that. It seems me being evicted from the family home opened his eyes to what I’d been saying for years. Gino has never forgiven her for it, and he cannot forgive her part in where my life headed. He thinks this is all on her.”

“I’m glad, it seems your brother has a sense of loyalty and gratitude that’s missing in your mother’s DNA. What a fucktard!” I jump up, itching with this overwhelming hostility that needs an outlet. I grab my wine and take a huge gulp, so engulfed in outrage my body is tingling all over. A violent outburst seems necessary and I suddenly understand his rage in Miami and need to just pulverise someone.

She threw her child out of his home at thirteen for protecting his family. What an idiot! She doesn’t deserve someone like Alexi. Someone who will stop at nothing to keep the people he cares about safe. A man who would kill or die to protect you.

Can she not see how huge that is? The sort of soul who sacrifices himself for those he loves.

A man who has killed for me and stood in the way of any harm coming at me from the moment I met him. Alexi is my hero, maybe not the fairy-tale version on a white horse and gallant armour. He is more of the dark variety and scarier than the devil, but he would never let anyone hurt a hair on my head and now I realise I’ve always known it. It’s why I fell in love with him, even when I had no reason to.

He has gone above and beyond to show me he will do anything to keep the monsters at bay. Tracking them down to London and delivering a cold punishment befitting the crimes. He set up a shooting to orchestrate a protection plan for me.

What more do I need? It’s shining like a neon sign, staring me in the face.

He has never shown affection in conventional ways so he would obviously never show love in normal ways either. He has shown me in Alexi ways, repeatedly. Protecting me, swooping in and saving me, doing what he can to keep me safe. Buying me a bracelet on a birthday I didn’t want to celebrate while still leaving me alone. Taking me to Miami with his family and trying to show me how to use a gun. It’s always been about keeping me safe, close and showing he cares.

He loves me. Why? I don’t know, and will probably never work that part out, but I’ve never been as sure of anything in my life as I am of that.

He would put his life in front of mine to make sure nothing happened to me, even if he died. That’s love. That’s what his mother should have cherished.

It’s Alexi’s form of love.

Alexi tugs me by the wrist back to him and yanks me onto his lap again, a little harshly. What’s left of my wine sloshing around as he pulls me back to how I was before, curled up against him intimately. Seems he preferred me on top of him and I don’t fight him as I’m enveloped back into a position that calms me down instantly. My fire dwindling in his embrace.

“You’re nothing like her.” He brushes my hair back from my face, fingers grazing my skin delicately and adjusts me, so I’m sat comfortably once more. He takes my glass from me and lays it on the side table out of the way. Those pale greys boring into my soul as he gazes at me. A serious expression, yet somehow soft, completely captivating. Simmering me down to a low hum.

“Good, she’s a prick of epic proportions and you don’t need that kind of negativity in your life.” I snap and then smile in embarrassment as my cheeks flush at just how much this has got to me. It’s even a surprise to me that I would react so venomously, but I can’t help it.