The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

“You think marrying me changes anything, Cam? It’s paper, nothing else. It won’t change anything about us. Everything I said still
stands. You can still walk away if this doesn’t work out and get everything I promised, and more. I’m not going to turn into some
domineering psycho that chains you to the kitchen sink. Marriage means something to me. I want to make you happy and I
wouldn’t jeopardise what we have for anything.” His soft voice lulls me into quiet, and even though the tears still roll down my
face, I finally calm. Soothed by his husky voice and the way it washes over me like a gentle summer breeze on a hot day. My
lighthouse in the dark.
“I never got to choose. I have no memory of any of it. No proposal, no wedding, nothing. Just a hangover and a piece of paper
signed by fucking Elvis. It’s devastating. I just woke up belonging to you legally and that’s it. Just your possession ... like I was to
him. Something to be passed around and caged, trapped ... controlled.” The raw rasp as my words fall out of their own accord.
Whole truths, no hiding, even though it’s painful to say it. I shiver with the thought of that monster again and blink him out of my
mind’s eye.
This time Alexi sighs and pulls my chin up slightly so I’m looking up into those endless pale greys head on. So animal-like in
many ways, yet also perfect and alluring and the grounding magic for me. I could stare into those eyes for ever and a day and
never get bored of looking at them. They are most definitely his best feature, even though they can also make him the most
terrifying at times. Right now, they hold me still, captive to him and he traces my cheekbone down to my jawline tenderly. Igniting
that familiar stomach of tingles and butterflies, drawing me to that sense of safety.
“I didn’t even think of it that way. I’m sorry. You’re not a possession, you’re my soul and the most precious thing I have in my life.
I’ll make that up to you, I swear. We just need to use it to our advantage in the meantime and take it one day at a time. When you
see that all it changes are the things which benefit you, then maybe it won’t seem so huge, so scary. I don’t own you. I never will.
Marriage isn’t about that for me, I’m not my cousins. You will always be the one who calls the shots, even if I like to pretend I’m in
charge. You own me, London, heart and soul. I could never hurt you again, it would kill me.”
His words cause a lump to catch in my throat and my heart to constrict with deep emotion, all while soothing my frazzled nerves,
bringing rational thought back, and I rest against him so helplessly. My temple finding the hollow against his collarbone and I tuck
my head under his chin like a child. Curling up small to take what I need from him when I feel like I’ve been cast loose on a
stormy sea.
“This is all so overwhelming for someone like me. I have hang-ups and issues, Lexi, all of them pointed at a life with no man
calling the shots—ever. I have never seen a healthy marriage up close. All the men who used my services were married, sexist
pricks and screwing around behind their wives’ backs while dominating them in life. They lost their identity, their voices, their

sense of worth. Hardly a great example of what marriage is. Marriage is something I never wanted and just feared what it would
be.”
“You think I planned a wedding? Until you, Cam, I didn’t even plan on a steady lover. I never fucked the same woman regularly
beyond a couple of weeks. This is all new to me too. You broke all the rules for me in so many ways and we make this what we
want it to be, together. We decide what marriage is to us. I promise you ... I won’t be like those men.”
“Mr Carrero, we are at your destination.” The driver's voice comes over the in-car tannoy system, interrupting us, putting an
abrupt end to our conversation and we both sit up a little. Alexi frowns at the faceless voice, irritation peeking because he
obviously needs more time with me.
“Great.” He responds into the air and scoops me into a bear hug so tight it’s an inch away from breaking ribs. A final reassurance
before showtime because we can’t sit in here indefinitely and he knows it as well as I do. Disappointment floods me as I realise
this is what I needed. This side of him cutting through my panic and holding me still. I’m not ready to let go.
“One day at a time. One step at a time. Nothing changes except your name and that’s for your benefit. We can talk more after we
get back to the hotel, but right now, baby, I need you to come in and look at this place with me. I need you to be the queen I
know you can be. Put on a face and act like you want to be here. Can you do that for me? We won’t be long and then you can
fall apart again right after. It’s my job to pick up your pieces and we can get through this.” There is an undertone of pleading as
his embrace slackens, his words mending some of my shattered heart and I sniff back, swallowing my upset and plaster a small
smile on my face. Weak from my outburst but he has dispelled so many demonic voices that were clawing my brain apart.
“I can do that for you.” I sound like a little girl promising a parent to be better after a scolding. Watery, sniffly and just very
vulnerable. Alexi is treating me with kid gloves and brushes my tears away softly.
“I never doubted it.” He kisses me on the tip of my nose, pulling a smile from me unexpectedly. Such a goofy and weirdly sweet
kiss and I give him one last cuddle, wiping my face as I do so on the back of my hand.
The car pulls to a sudden stop and Alexi deposits me back on my seat, clumsily wiping my face for me once more which I know
must be awful. It’s a paternal tenderness and brings a brighter, genuine smile to my face. My whole demeanour finding
something to hold on to and maintain some serenity this time.
My mascara and eyeshadow must be running everywhere, and God knows how intact my eyeliner is. I try to pull myself together,
dabbing my eyes and face and wiping underneath them with practised fingers to try and remove the worst of my runny makeup.

Alexi smooths my hair down with a last appraisal over me and then turns as his door is opened and gets out, stopping just
outside to extend a hand to me and I follow obediently.
No hesitation in his touch anymore. Calmer because I no longer feel as threatened by him and logic has a better foundation on
which to perch.
He takes my hand in his as I slide the rest of the way over the seat and step outside to straighten up. instinctively smoothing my
dress as I go. Before I get to move past him, he steps in and bends to kiss me on the mouth so gently it’s almost nothing, just a
graze of lips, but it sends my heart hammering through my chest in a pleasant frenzy of tingles and flutters. It brings me back to
reality further, shutting the door on a million ghosts clutching at the depths of my soul.
He is blocking my path and giving us a moment to leave that little scene in the car behind us. He’s closing a metaphorical black
hole for me. Brushing it aside so I can adopt my game face and do what he needs.
“You look beautiful, as always. Smile and look adoring, London. We have a casino to buy.” He kisses me on my forehead, this
time with more pressure, a firm reassurance, before stepping aside, locking our fingers together firmly and leading the way. My
body pulled against his side so we are touching as much as is humanly possible, and I take strength from his natural warmth and
strong build.
I do exactly as he says. Suck it up and present that seasoned actress I spent a lifetime perfecting, to the world. Lift that defiant
chin with as much confidence as I can muster.
All I can focus on is being what he needs me to be right now. A role to play. An old familiar habit to detract me from reality for a
little while.
I can do this.
We are outside the covered entrance to a very huge and glamorous building that’s as intimidating as he can be. It’s dated but
you have all the basics of luxury and opulence in the entranceway, including doormen and valet parking. I eye up the hustle and
bustle of people milling around for such an early hour and take it as a good sign there is life and money in this building yet.
I cling to Alexi’s hand, trying to look and feel more human but rely on him fully for my strength. A complete contrast to the journey
over here, and I swallow down the messy, tangled brain waves to get on track. Steadier legs, lungs freeing up enough to
breathe. Eyes scanning the building and giving me a focus that strengthens my ability to pull myself together.

The colour scheme is pretty ancient, in golds, reds and burgundies that look worn, it’s reflected in the carpets and walls and in
need of a repaint. It’s classic casino from the nineties and I can see wear and tear on every surface as we venture inside.
Chipping paint, scuffed brass fittings, and faded threadbare patches across the sea of gross, swirling patterned shag pile that
goes beyond the horizon.
My head forgets all the previous emotion, locking it all down into a neat little box for later while my designer and critical business
eye move in, pushing everything else aside. That numb calm that is a welcoming feeling.
It has potential, really nice fixtures and fittings that could use a refurb to bring the gold hue back to what it once was. Huge
chandeliers but very tired and could use a polish and possible upgrade. The ambience is depressing with way too many low
lights and a stale smoke and booze odour throughout the grand room. The windows are all covered in heavy curtains that should
be opened with sheers and framed with something more luxurious to bring some brightness into this space.
Despite the shoddy décor, the place is heaving, even for an early weekend morning, and the noise of slot machines ringing from
my left pull my eyes to a huge area filled with rows and rows of them. Décor matching the room we are in.
“Mr Carrero.” A voice drags my attention back to the suited middle-aged man approaching us, accompanied by matching black-
suited men that are not a patch on Alexi’s normal security. They lack the build and intimidating look of Carrero. You can tell they
are probably a bunch of pussy cats and not really all that effective.
All wearing cheap suits and overly serious expressions, pretending to be far meaner than they are. It’s all just posturing and
hardly effective when you’ve been in the presence of real terrifying men. Alexi doesn’t let go of my hand, just steps forward and
extends his other to shake the hand of short guy with the overly white teeth. He’s pushing his fifties but trying to stay young with
cosmetic help and a bad haircut that tries to conceal his balding head. The teeth look as fake as his tan.
“Mr Rogers. This is Camilla, my wife.” Alexi sounds almost proud when he says it and it does weird things to my insides. That
breathy intake of panic at that alien word; I inhale slowly to counteract it. I don’t outwardly react though, just smile and extend a
hand when he moves to me with an offered handshake. Keeping myself in check and showing nothing of the war those words
inflicted on me. He has the grace to ignore my obvious patchy makeup job and smiles politely.
A clammy, sweaty, warm, squelching embrace, palm to palm that tells me this guy is shitting himself right now and riddled with
nerves. I watch him a little more closely as he steps away, releasing my now moist hand and his eyes dart back to Alexi.
All the signs on show, sweating, breathless, antsy behaviour and overly loud volume when talking. He’s either scared of my man
or this deal means way more than I expected. He isn’t a match to my cool, controlled, crazy to my left. Alexi looks amused by the

obvious show of submission and I know his sadistic side will get a kick out of the unintentional intimidation. He is a cocky arse
sometimes, and he loves nothing more than showing off his prowess of alpha with inferior men like this. He oozes that sort of
command that most men seem to pick up on.
“Pleasure.” Sweaty smiles quickly at me but it’s an uninterested pause before he waves at the foyer behind him and ushers us to
where he ventured from. His full interest is on Alexi and his approval and I’m a secondary annoyance in his day. Another man
that sees women as worthless objects to bang. I’m glad a Carrero of Alexi’s choosing will replace him.
“Let’s start upstairs in the observation area, that way you can get a bird’s-eye view and we will take it from there.” He points up at
the very high ceiling to a weird half circle area with endless mirrors along one corner of the room, and Alexi nods. It’s obviously a
secure room to spy on clientele from the clouds.
“Sure. My wife could use a glass of something cold and maybe a sandwich before we start, she isn’t feeling very well and
skipped breakfast. If you have a room, she can go freshen up too?” Alexi turns to me with that deadpan expression but his
tightening clasp on my hand tells me he is trying to make me feel important. Putting my needs before all, and the request for a
powder room is because he knows I’m feeling underdressed and grubby with my tear-stained face.
He didn’t like the obvious dismissal of my presence and is regaining his position as the dominant. Enforcing that his wife is just
as crucial to this as he is and her comfort trumps all in this room. My insides warm at his attention, another layer of anxiety
sliding away and releasing me from that internal heaviness. No master would make a point of putting his possession’s needs first
in a business meeting of importance.
I love him.
Sweaty looks constipated suddenly, and I guess it pisses him off that he will have to pander to the woman before Lord Alexi
budges on a tour.
I sigh and squeeze his hand back, feeling for the first time what being a queen is like. Equal importance in the eye of the King.
No one else gets to dismiss her, even if she isn’t important to the scenario. I’m no longer an invisible female in a room of men. All
eyes are on me.
I know my job and it’s not to embarrass him in front of these men, it’s to make him proud of his choice in a mate. Prove that I’m
worthy of standing by his side when he wants me to.

I plaster on my best, award-winning and seductive smile, tilt my shoulders back to straighten my posture and stand tall as I lift
that chin. Sweeping my red hair back over my shoulder gracefully and fix the little greaseball firmly with my eye.
“That would be awesome, I’m so hungover from this madman’s drinking shenanigans last night. Just can’t keep pace with him.
He’s a devil, I swear.” I purr demurely, old Camilla moving in with ease now she has a role to play and knows what’s expected of
her.
Schmooze and charm, be the adoring wife and help him see the possibility in this very huge building. I can do this with my eyes
closed.
Easy.
Alexi relaxes so slightly that I’m the only one in the room who catches the way his stiff posture loosens a little. That sexy intense
way he’s pinning me with soulless eyes softens and he turns to the man with a confident smile as baldy nods ecstatically. Falling
over himself to meet our demands.