The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) novel Chapter 113

It all happens so fast, it’s like a blur.

Getting deposited in a car by Jackson while all around me becomes surreal and dreamlike. I feel weirdly numb overall but there’s a simmering energy inside of me that has me on edge, overly aware and completely strung out. Snappy with the man ushering me in here and I wrench myself out of his grip and throw myself into a window seat childishly, carrying my shoes.

The bus is a small transport that seats twelve people. Long and low with pairs of comfortable leather seats on each side of the aisle and tinted windows. Like the limousine of buses. The driver looks hired, so I know to be hush-hush about what went down and I sulk like a child, crossing my arms over my chest and stare out into the dark street, tapping my bare feet against the leg as my heels nestle in my lap where I just dropped them.

Alexi shows up minutes after me looking devoid of any sort of regret, and like an automatic trigger for my wrath, my temper bubbles over instantly. Just the sight of him is enough.

I throw my shoes at him, aiming for the shit head’s face as he enters and hope I at least take out an eye. It would be nothing compared to what he did to that man back there and he bloody deserves it.

He just slaps them away with a filthy glare aimed at me and carries on as though I am a mere annoyance in his day. The devil lurking in those sinister cold eyes and that stiff deadpan persona on full show. I hate him with a passion so strong I can almost taste it.

Jackson is still sitting with me and pulls me to sit back in my seat when I lift up to take a flying attack at the man once more. Pinning me down expertly yet gently, and I obediently do so realising this is going to get me either knocked out, or left in Miami.

Even I know my impulsive anger is out of control and I watch him with loathing, holding myself in my seat with all my might as he crosses to a seat facing me and slides down. Alexi just scowls my way once he is settled, eyes locked in silent battle for a glimmer of a second before he puts his head back on the headrest and stares at the ceiling instead. Breaking our connection and fazing me out. I swear he starts to count; counting down the seconds until he erupts and orchestrates my demise, no doubt.

Watch him try. I will use anything to hand to stab that fucker in the eye.

Violent prick.

I can’t calm down and when we whizz to the hotel it only takes minutes before we are in the lobby. Mico shows up from God knows where to get in the lift with us as we make our way through the quiet entryway—Relieving Jackson of babysitting duties. He was acting as a blockade between two people who are doing their best to pretend the other is invisible; the air thick with static and tension between us.

He seems relieved to be let loose and throws me a warm smile as he moves to let Mico get between us instead. Mico is in boss mode and has Alexi’s normal air of command. Alexi, however, is staring at the floor, distant and disconnected, and hasn’t said one word in the whole time since he got in the bus. Not even an apology, or one utterance or acknowledgement of how wrong it was.

He hasn’t looked my way since he sat down either. That vibe of closed up, emotionally dead psycho is around him like a thick fog and it just fuels my inner temper. I’m so sick of this side of him.

‘Go back to the club … make sure everyone thinks these two have just gone back to the hotel together … say nothing in front of the girls.’ He commands Jackson’s way; he nods like an obedient puppy dog and takes off quickly. Mico ushers me, more so than Alexi, into the lift. Alexi just follows behind us, and yet I am overly aware of his constant heavy presence like a big dark cloud thundering over me. I’m still seething inside with this bubbling pot of rage at him for what he did tonight.

I cannot stop the image sliding into my brain of that man and all that blood—Stomach swirling with nausea and anxious despair. That infernal noise he made while trying to breathe will haunt me for a lifetime and I have no clue if he is still breathing anymore. How the hell they will clean this up is beyond me.

Mico shoves me a little harshly to the corner once inside, obviously expecting some kind of lash out when we are in confined quarters again. He seems annoyed, even if it’s hidden under an air of authority, and stands between us lifting a finger to silence me impulsively when I open my mouth … Glaring the lord of stone’s way.

‘Don’t!’ He warns me sternly, eyes narrowed under a very unimpressed frown, and I clamp my mouth shut before he turns to Alexi with a darker look.

‘And you! … What the fuck, Lex? You need to get your shit together and your head out of your ass. If this situation is fucking you up this much that you make dumb mistakes, then you either act on it, or let it go. You’re the head of the family and you are acting like a juvenile asshole. You’re going to screw everything up that you have spent years building.’ Mico is mad as hell—voice tight, body as stiff as his cousin’s—bringing my own simmering emotions to a weird sort of lull as more memories from the club start filtering through. I have been pushing them down the whole way over here, but now in the quiet of the hotel, and reality hitting hard, I cannot shake that man’s face as he gets more invasive in my brain. It was horrible, non-recognisable as even a human head, let alone a face and Alexi has probably killed him. I think it’s more than likely I just witnessed a second cold-blooded murder.

‘What happened to him? The man at the club … is he …?’ I blurt it out tearfully, anger giving way to some sort of delayed shock and inevitable crying as soft tears well up and threaten to pour down my hot cheeks. Mico just glares at me and sends little flickers of fear into my stomach.

‘It’s being taken care of, he will be fine. Forget about it.’ There’s more Alexi in his tone than the Mico I know, and it serves to remind me that they all have roles and masks in this world and I shouldn’t forget that. Mico may be my friend, but he is and always will be a paid killer in the empire Alexi runs. I don’t doubt that he has a soul as twisted and scattered with his evil doings as his cousin. He’s not my Mico right now; he’s a paid second in command cleaning up the mess the Mafia King created. And he’s not happy about it.

Alexi laughs under his breath, an eerie evil chuckle which draws my eyes to him by Mico’s side, bringing a strange cloak to the air. My body hits a new type of awareness, riled by him and my skin prickles in reaction.

‘The girl who doesn’t care, huh? He was nothing to you … you said. Seems like it.’ Alexi’s sarcasm sets me off again, in a way only he can. So little but yet, I react in the extreme. That insta-flip of some inner crazy woman who has very little control and I fly to face him, pushing my body towards him in a show of hostility. Mico’s arm blocks me from advancing further as he sticks it out.

‘He did nothing, you complete fucking sociopath. He did absolutely fucking nothing. For once in my life, a guy bypassed groping me to help me stand up. He was a gentleman! Something you know nothing about! You killed a man for fucking helping me get up on my feet!’ I spit venomously at him, straining to face him down over Mico’s solid forearm, and he sneers back at me.