The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 33



Chapter 33

Untrusting and poised to use my free hand against him if it’s a gameplay. I have known so many forms of mental torture and this could be one of them. ‘’Consider this a warning.’’ He doesn’t sound as self- assured as he normally does and he can’t look me in the eye either. Avoiding my face altogether, even when he gets close enough to unbuckle my waist from the large belt around it. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I hold my breath in the hope that he’s changed his mind and he’s letting me go. Afraid to take this at face value and keep holding still, willing for my heart to stop pounding through my chest. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

Alexi starts setting my ankles free before my other wrist and frees me faster than he strung me up. There’s nothing in his manner that suggests anything amiss, but I can feel it all around him. The weird vibe and the complete lack of hostility as though it’s evaporated.

I slump down when I am finally free and end up in a heap on the floor, my body unable to hold my weight with the way I’ve completely lost the use of my limbs and turned into a shaking mess. Alexi doesn’t attempt to catch me either, not that I expected he would. Letting out a sob as I curl up into a defensive childish ball and turn my eyes to the ground in complete humility. Ashamed of myself and my lack of strength when faced with a simple punishment that other women would take in their stride.

I’m pathetic and fragile when it comes to this one thing and once again I showed him how effective it is. His feet turn at my eye level, and he starts to walk away after a moment, much to my relief. He leaves me here crying and shaking, unable to get up but it’s what I would rather have than be back on that cross.

He gets a few steps and then stops. My heart stops too. I stop crying and hold still, afraid he maybe hasn’t finished with me yet, and recoil against the wooden stand when he walks back towards me, cowering under the shadow he casts and lift my hand defensively to my face. A pose of old, a pose of my childhood, no matter how hard you try to kill instinctual reactions, they stay with you for a lifetime

and come out to just humiliate you further. I’m shielding myself for an inevitable beating, against all sense telling me that Alexi doesn’t hit women.

Alexi leans down and scoops me up, shocking me, and yet I can’t physically react to him doing it. I just go limp and numb, trying to keep my body curled up tight as he bounces me up into his arms for a more secure hold, cradling me against him. I don’t know what to think and am too scared to try. He could just be moving me somewhere else to start again. I close up tight, and refuse to look up at him, keeping my chin tucked against my chest.

He carries me across the room to the door. I don’t trust his intentions at all and I won’t let my guard down, even if this seems like he’s found an ounce of decency. He says nothing, doesn’t look at me, just walks us out of the room and into the bar which is still desolate and then heads to the hall and the lift with me. I stay stiff, finding enough courage to lift my head and fix my eyes on his profile, in case it gives a hint of my fate to come, coiled like a snake waiting to strike. Except I am just waiting for an opening to jump down and run.

I lift my arm to dry my face, but the tears are still falling, and when he puts me on my feet outside the lift door he lets me go, holding my arm for a moment until he sees I’m stable enough to stand and steps away as though sensing I need space and him not to touch me anymore. It’s the weirdest scenario ever, considering he’s the one who just traumatised me this way.

‘‘It’s not your first time being shackled is it?’’ He asks me as the doors slide open and I can see my safety retreat in sight as long as he stays out here. I turn slightly to look at him and see something completely new which knocks me off a little. Alexi looks pensive and thoughtful, yet there’s a look in his eye I cannot place at all.

I should tell him to go fuck himself, but the fear is inside of me that he will turn and drag my arse straight back to that room if I deny him anything he wants right now. I hesitate, swallowing hard and

shake my head at him, trying hard to compose myself while shaking like a leaf in a dazed state of surreal.

I feel like I’m in a dream and emotionally exhausted. ‘‘No,’’ I admit emptily. I’m shell-shocked and metaphorically naked right now. I have no energy to lie when it’s obvious to him that my fear was not for the unknown. I’m giving him more ammunition, but I am beyond caring. I feel stripped and broken and just need the solitude of my room. If obediently answering him means he lets me go, then it’s what I will do to get away from him.

‘’It wasn’t consensual was it, or enjoyable?’’ Darkness falls over his face and I shake my head, seeing a brimming and brewing storm moving into the pale colour and darkening them too. I don’t know why that makes him mad, seeing as he had no intention of what he just did being fun or enjoyable. It was a punishment and non-consensual, but somehow, he always disregards his actions when he makes statements like this. One rule for him and one rule for the rest of mankind. He really does have a superiority complex.

‘’What were you?’’ He asks such a simple question, yet the answer is complex. Alexi has had hints that I was a damaged girl but I have never come out and told him about my life before America. All he knows is I was a girl who got creative in making money and sold other girls for sex, but I have never told him I was sold a million times before that. He doesn’t know about the before in great detail only hints of the truth. I am no fool and I assume he knows I have been a hooker at some point. I mean I did for a while even when I got here and needed to keep feeding myself.

‘‘A sad story of a girl who ran away for a better life.’’ I move into the lift and put distance between us, praying he stays out there and lets me find solitude alone upstairs. I don’t trust this ‘‘nicey, nicey’’ act and I’m waiting on him to snap and revert right back into cruel. I feel ravaged and emotional and I know that breaking down in front of him again just killed all my self-respect in one fell swoop. I feel desolate.

‘‘And then you fell into my lap.’’ He says sardonically as another sob escapes me, despite myself. Who knew those seven little honest words would be the start of a whole new kind of emotional pain?

‘‘Water finds its own level. I should accept my fate. You can’t rise above your station, no matter how hard you try, what accent you give yourself or how expensive your clothes may be.’’ It’s the most self- depreciating thing that has come out of my mouth in a long time, but he’s ruined my mental state and I can’t see beyond the misery right now. I started life as a worthless common shell being used by men, for men, and that’s exactly where I am now. I never climbed out of my dark hole; I just found myself much more dangerous captors.

Alexi drops his chin and stares at the floor for a long moment, his hand still on the button holding the doors and I hold my breath, willing him to let it and me go. I need space to be alone, and I am so afraid of what he’s still capable of doing to me when I have no way of defending myself anymore.

I’m a trembling shell of weakness and barely keeping myself up on my shoes. My whole life has been unravelling since the day I met him and I would be better off more than a hundred miles away from him.

Finally, he brings his eyes back up to mine and looks at me without a word, that normal lack of expression, although something hinting in the depths of those empty eyes. He says nothing more, just let’s go of the button. Letting the doors close slowly between us as it blocks him out of my sight and presence and releases me from his painful hold. Watching him as he disappears behind my own reflection in the chrome surface and I sag back to burst into a fresh wave of tears when I realise, I’m finally safe.


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