The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 106

‘Adorable! Carrero men, we are so weak for them. Ciao Bella.’ She steps back to wiggle down the aisle back to her man and Alexi moves to let her slide in, getting another peck on the cheek as she passes. She pats him lovingly on the shoulder too.

I can’t really say I have a right to feel jealous about the obvious affection, I mean she’s not the first ‘family’ member to say that they adore Alexi, and I guess they see something in him to feel that way.

It’s just, I do.

Insanely crazily, heart pounding in my chest feeling of hurt, watching how he interacts with other women who are not part of his world or games.

It’s not that she’s touching him—it’s how he is behaving that slices me irreversibly.

Women in his family whom he marked as out of bounds; He treats them with a kindness and respect that he has never shown me or any of the women I see in the club with him. Touches, cuddles, gentlemanly behaviour, and God forbid … affection. They are never shown his cold and sadistic side, yet, I have seen all sides now, mostly the worst.

I look away when he walks back towards me, trying to push it down and not feel affected by it, but it has cut me, deep inside. Eyes misting and throat aching.

Crushingly so.

Knowing that even if he is treating me differently to how he did before, it’s still not how he treats women he obviously cares about. I have to swallow down the fresh wave of tears as they hit me hard in the back of my throat and my chest gets achingly tight.

Stupid to ever have let myself believe this was more. I realise somewhere deep down I must have still been harbouring it somewhere. No matter how much I have been denying it to myself.

‘What are you reading?’ Alexi moves back in causally and slides beside me, oblivious to my fragile mood. He lifts the edge of my book which has fallen flat in my lap even though I am staring down at it blankly and I get flustered with his sudden attention.

‘Umm, I don’t know, I just grabbed it because it was pretty.’ It’s not a lie, I saw it on the shelf of the shop I was in yesterday and grabbed it because I liked the cover. My head is a blank on what I have read, too caught up in swirling emotions and trying to hide my upset from him. He just throws me an odd look before buckling up his belt and nods at mine. I just made myself sound like a complete airhead while trying to cover the fact I’m in pain, all because Alexi doesn’t care about me.

How stupid am I?

Did I learn nothing the first-time around? Didn’t I warn myself to ever, NEVER, ever go back down this path where he was concerned?

‘Everyone’s here, get ready for take-off.’ He nudges me lightly with his shoulder to pull my attention and I drop my book and obediently buckle up. I put my bag and book on the table, eyes downcast on task and unable to look at him until I pull my shit together again. Hands trembling like an amateur and fighting my emotions to just stop crashing into one another like a freak.

‘Once we are in the air, we all tend to gather in the centre and have a few champagnes. You can get to know my cousins and their women and feel more at ease.’ Alexi leans in so his eyes are on me, forcing me to look up while I take long slow breaths to calm my pounding aching heart, and I just smile as though he is completely off the mark—Locking it all away in the cavern of my empty soul.

‘Who said I am not at ease? I’m the queen of social, aren’t I? Hostess with the mostest?’ I smile, full of fake bravado and oozing confidence just like I always have, whether it’s true or not, and Alexi just slides a hand over mine snugly. Cupping my small hand under his larger one in a perfect fit, his skin insanely hot on my cooler body temperature that just ignites butterflies inside every part of me. A small

act that makes me freeze, unable to react visually because I don’t want him to see it, and I don’t want to draw attention to us by saying anything either.

‘We get to be other people for once … no acts, no masks, just relax and forget who we are for one night, Cam. That’s the whole point of this.’ He utters is so gently, tone oozing warmth, and I fumble as he lets my hand go. A loaded look that I cannot decipher and there’s a pitch to his voice I don’t understand. There’s a few seconds of tension between us and I can feel his eyes eating into me even though I am not looking directly at him … Heart catapulting into my throat. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

I gave up second guessing his meanings a long time ago and just nod mutely. Alexi runs his eyes over my face slowly, no flicker of emotion, not that I can see from the corner of my eye, before he settles back for take-off and I relax a little; breathing easier when he’s no longer touching me.

He moves away, looking down the aisle as Mico draws his attention by yelling something back to him, and I turn to the window to blur him out for a moment.

Thrown by that moment of whatever it was and his weirdly affectionate touch, breaking the No touching rule yet again. I am trying not to read anything into what he said but my head is already swimming and it’s making my lightheaded. I look for a distraction for both my brain and my rollercoaster stomach that’s acting like it’s on a spin cycle.

‘Gino really did pull a stunner, didn’t he?’ I change the subject and nod down to where they are sitting. Aiming for a neutral topic, although I know my stupid jealous side wants his honest take on Alessandra.

I want to know if she’s his type.

Everyone seems to have gathered in the middle or front of the plane away from back here and yet Alexi chose to come sit with me out of the way regardless. There’s space beside his twin, he could easily have sat with them. Next to the gorgeous touchy-feely he had draped over him moments ago.

Bitter, Camilla? Really?

I always was someone who chose to disappear into the background when I could.

‘Alessandra is pretty, I guess.’ He shrugs, lacking real interest as he says it and I blink at him in surprise.

‘Really? Just pretty? You guess? … She’s gorgeous and effortlessly sensual in a really classy way. It’s crazily alluring,’ I reply honestly, complete girl crush on show despite my stupid feelings over her and him, then blush at the fact I am telling him of all people. I am a bit weirded out that a hot-blooded male like him isn’t salivating over her, to be honest. I don’t think I believe him. She’s the ultimate wet dream for most men.

‘She reminds me of you.’ Alexi answers without looking my way and I snap my head to look at him in disbelief. Shocked with that revelation, and yet he still seems so laid back and calmly serious.

‘No, she doesn’t. I can only wish to have been born with that much sex appeal,’ I blurt out through a tiny disbelieving laugh, not convinced at all that she and I are comparable in even the smallest way.

Alexi gives me an odd look as if to say, ‘what are you talking about?’ and I pipe down, completely, knocked with his reaction. A double take and second guess that he thinks I have anything she does.

Does that mean he thinks I’m just pretty? Or does that mean everything I just said about her, he sees in me?

That little flip over of my stomach answers that for me.

I don’t see myself from in here, so it’s hard to judge how I come across to people. I don’t notice my mannerisms or my persona when I am buried inside my own head and just doing what I do.

Of course, I spent my life trying to learn to be what Alessandra is naturally, but I’m always aware that it’s just a fake mask I wear, and I work hard to portray it. Some parts are maybe as easy as breathing now, but they were self-taught and not naturally acquired. Alexi is implying she and I are alike, and I take it as a massive compliment if that’s how he sees me. I guess more than a compliment as a hot swirling sense of pride fills me up in the weirdest places.

Alexi thinks I’m classy, sensual and alluring? Sexy?

Then again this is Alexi, and words and gestures from him are just tools to mess with your head. I shouldn’t ever forget that, no matter how he seems or how he’s been treating me lately. I should never drop my guard where he is concerned. I have seen the other side.

He is trying to break down my walls and I won’t let him.

My heart is maybe weakening foolishly, but my head is screwed on and trying to guide me in the right direction. I need to learn to put it back in control.

The flight goes from quiet and dull, to party in the air after take-off. Unclipping belts and gathering in the centre to drink together, just like he told me we would, and the hours pass in a blink. It’s easy to slowly relax and put everything out of my head when plied with champagne and listening to insane chatter around me. They are a very animated and entertaining family, and between them, have many stories and jokes that pull you in and keep you amused.

Alexi changes gradually as we leave New York. Relaxed, let’s go a little and downs a few drinks with his brother. Side by side in the centre aisle with me perched on his left on the armrest as I sip my third champagne flute. A definite warm head and surreal feel as booze takes hold. I am trying not to get plastered though, aware that my emotions are a bit cagey and I should steer clear of intoxication. I know how that goes when I get drunk.

I watch him unfurl like some weird beautiful orchid and am fascinated with just how much he changes when surrounded by family and no pull towards responsibility or keeping face with people who matter. The further we get from New York; the more Alexi seems to lose that cold hard side to him and just warms up a lot. Getting more youthful with every mile, almost like watching stress and tension he must always carry, ebbing out of him.

He smiles, he makes jokes, and like it or not, he seems to have really good relationships with the men and women in his family. Passing jibes and jests between all here and behaving very gentlemanly towards them when dishing out drinks and chatter. I don’t think I have ever seen him really drunk, despite how frequently I see him drink and this is weirdly eye-opening.

I have been quiet for most of the trip so far, taking it all in silently, drinking the atmosphere in with these people, who genuinely seem to get along and like one another’s company.

Loud, boisterous Italian people who can drink their own weight in booze without getting obviously plastered and who all poke fun at one another mercilessly.

It’s a weird feeling being included, yet not.

I never had a family, never knew this kind of comradery in groups of people held together by blood. There’s no malice, no sly or underlying manipulation in this space. No one here to get something out of it beyond enjoyment.

I don’t know how to relax and interact the way they do with one another, and even though the affection seems real, I just feel like I’m an outsider who can’t relate in any way.

I don’t know how to be this way with people and getting drunk and watching them all, just makes me feel really alone.

I’m not here to play a role or impress men and seduce a situation. I’m here to be me and just join in, and I am completely out of my depth with that minor detail. I have never just had to be somewhere for the person I am and invited company, for no reason other than they wanted me here. Not wanted for my body, my looks, or anything pertaining to sex. I’m not an object in this setting.

I have no clue how to be, who to be or how to act. I have no clue what’s expected of me. Truth be told, I’m not a nice person and I have nothing to offer people when I have no game to play or act to hide behind; nothing interesting, nothing to be proud of. If they scratch too deep, they will realise I’m worthless trash that just looks good in a designer dress and has no substance or depth—Fake as my nails.

I have no funny stories or tales about friends and family. I have nothing to offer them and it’s not like I can tell them about my job either. It’s an unwritten rule that the club is a no-go area among people he’s related to. They wouldn’t understand it … The ex-hooker running his sex club in Crimes Ville. They would really not like that at all.

The drunker they all get the quieter and more detached I am. Not sure how to play people pleaser and social queen in this situation among genuine people. Regretting coming if this is a sign as to how my night is going to be. I just feel empty and so very sad.I have no goal or motive other than to just enjoy myself … I don’t know how to be like that. I never once had to take a look inwards and ask myself, what makes me have fun or how to be happy. My life has never been about that—it’s always just been survival; Watching my back, planning my next move. Staying one step ahead of the game.

‘You okay?’ Mico moves up beside me and drops a drink in my hand as mine was empty and had been for a little while as I sober up with the reality that I shouldn’t have come. I stopped drinking without wanting to draw attention to the fact by cradling an almost empty glass. I accept it, then discreetly slide it on the table as soon as he turns his eyes from me.

‘Fine,’ I give him a fake smile and watch Alexi as he leans over Gino to push Alessandra in the face because of something funny she said to him. There is a sibling quality in their behaviour and it just hits me low in the gut as my eyes sting with moisture. Even he has a side that can function with normal people—Satan can gel with humans.

I don’t belong with these people. I never belonged anywhere.

I feel like I am in an alternate reality and just want to go sit alone in the back and let the effects of the booze I have drunk wear off. I feel too floaty and surreal and that just makes me emotional and depressed. Insides churning up horribly.

Drinking this much is a bad idea, I should have learned that from the last time I was drunk around Alexi. Drink and I do not go well together, or hand in hand in any way. It rips out my solid foundation and leaves me teetering weirdly between outright emotional outbursts and feeling strangely fragile. I lose my cold outer wall.

‘What is it?’ Alexi the bloodhound is on me now as Mico scrutinises my face and I sigh heavily, pasting on big, fake happy and shake my head, swallowing down all signs of anything amiss with the last ounces of strength in me.

‘Nothing, I’m just quiet when I’m with people I don’t really know.’ I lie and hope to God it seems genuine.

Alexi gets up and slides out of the aisle past us with a frown on that pretty face of his, tapping my arm and extending a hand to me which makes it obvious I am to take it. I can tell by the expression he’s in no mood for refusals and I don’t want a scene among these people. He wouldn’t think twice about humiliating me.

I take it, cursing him for giving me no option other than to do so and momentarily close my eyes while taking a breath as he closes my hand inside his possessively. I let him pull me off my perch and drag

me back to the plane seats we started in. He slides me in front of him quickly to sit back where I left my book, and he follows to close me in by sitting right beside me again.

‘What’s wrong?’ He’s on me as soon as I nestle into the seat, turning to me and caging me in by putting a hand behind my head on the rest and one on the table in front of me. Closer than I can handle him at any given time and I try to blank out how good he smells.

I can tell he’s already slightly drunk and he seems different … Softer. All that sadistic ice is harder to see under foggy grey eyes and a relaxed expression. It’s unnerving coming from him. He seems more like Mico at this moment and yet a lot more invasive on my person.

‘I’m fine, I told you.’ I wave him away with a dismissive gesture and sigh heavily, turning to look out into the darkness of the sky. I am gripping onto my sense of okay with my fingernails and trying to give nothing away.