The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) novel Chapter 185

These are things people figure out before they marry someone, and here we are, already invested and now I’m thinking about the fact I should have told him this already.

Babies! Not a fucking chance in hell.

He won’t know, unless he did read all my journals, but even then. I wouldn’t say it was obvious from those diary excerpts that my inability to have kids was permanent or even a blessing. I went over the abortion and such and the after-effects and recovery, but I don’t think I ever spelt it out, in black and white, that my body no longer produces eggs for any chance of fertilisation.

How do you tell the man cradling a newborn like he was born to do so if that’s where his hopes lie then it won’t happen with me?

How do I tell him that I can’t give him this and wouldn’t want to even if I could?

Is this what he wants?

The happy 2.4 children, family home and Carrero expected happily ever after?

Jesus Christ. Fuck, fuckity, fuck.

I never thought something so stupid could be the end of us, and now it’s staring me in the face like a huge dark hole just about to pull me in and crush me to oblivion. He’s a Carrero and their family is of all-consuming importance to them; of course, he would want to carry on his lineage and make a new generation of little Alexis. I was so stupid to never even think of this before now. It changes everything.

I literally lose all strength; limbs turn to jelly and my blood runs icy. It’s hard to take a breath and tears prick at my eyes as all I have held onto the last few days turns to dust in my fingers and I can’t hold on anymore.

“What’s wrong, you look like you’re on the verge of hyperventilating? What is it?” Alexi hands off the baby to an appearing Alessandra, expertly and smoothly, who instantly coos and mollycoddles the ugly little bundle of diaper rash and sleepless nights and I try to blink away the mounting tears. Even she, the sexy lingerie model, has more maternal instincts in her pinkie than I have in my whole being. It just adds to the devastation of my heart and I can’t even look at him.

“I’m just … tired. Heat … umm … jet lag.” I stammer out my excuses but that telltale frown shows he knows I’m talking shit. He knows me just as well as I know him, and he is not buying my sudden deterioration as anything other than what it seems to him. That I’m upset.

“Let’s go get some air in the shade.” He doesn’t wait for a refusal, bossy mode initiated, he just hoists me to my feet sharply by the hand, so I cannot even refuse, and pulls me towards the darkest part of the garden behind some huge outbuildings. I stumble as I walk, trying to keep up with his brisk pace, and I can feel the tension beginning to come off him in droves as he gets agitated with my sudden change of mood. I trip a couple of times now I have my heels back on and they don’t do well with thick grass. He stops to pull them off my feet for me, face a picture of seriousness, and without saying a word, tosses them aside out of the way so we can leave them here, and continues pulling me after him.

“Where are you taking me?” I watch him warily, questioning as my head does a three thousand miles a minute somersault, and I turn into a melting pot of anxiety, devastation and worst outcomes for our forever. It’s all just gone up in a puff of smoke in my brain. My insides are screaming, my heart bleeding and I’m dreading the words I know I need to say to him.

“To be alone, and you are going to tell me why you suddenly look like you’re either going to cry, throw up or pass out.” It’s a stern statement, that usual emotionless tone but I can tell he’s concerned. My face is heating up which means my cheeks are clearly getting some colour back, but I’m trembling, and I really don’t feel good at all. I feel like I’m sliding into quicksand and there will be that moment of panic as suffocation snubs me out. Standing on a precipice.

How the hell do I tell him and burst our happy bubble once and for all?

I cling onto his hand for dear life, almost like it’s my last chance to touch him, even though I know that’s stupid. My overthinking, terrified insecure brain going into overdrive. My own worst enemy sometimes and I tremble all over.

He gets us out of sight behind the building, along a tree line and little private path that seems to lead to another building, stopping me in the space and turns me so I can lean back against the wall and look at him. It’s a secluded private space in complete shadow, with no prying eyes, where we can be completely alone. Caught between a huge fence and a building with an overhanging of thick foliage.

I wonder if this was a known hiding place for him when he lived here.

Steadying my trembling body and trying to take a normal breath to inflate my painful lungs. I swallow hard to curb tears and try to avoid that penetrating stare as he eats into my soul with a dissecting look. I lose all bravado under his scrutiny and sink back, sighing it all out to just crumble under his presence. Knowing it will come out, either way, it’s inevitable.

“Is that what you want? Babies, a family and all the stereotypical life with a wife BS?” I gesture back towards the path we came, it all comes out in a desperate gush, bordering on tears and I literally fall apart. My cool, composed act dissolves wholly and I wrap myself up in my own arms, eyes filling as I watch him for the devastating answer that’s about to shred my heart to pieces.

“Do I want babies? Life with wife BS? What has gotten into you?” He just sounds dumbfounded and a little amused by my question and totally misses the point completely. Reaching out to touch my face with a gentle hand but I push it away, unable to bear it right now while our future hangs in the balance.

“Do you see us having kids? Is that what you planned or hoped for, is that what you need in your happy future?” This time it’s a low-key wail and the tears threatening to burst forth spill out gently, warmth sliding down my cheeks, but Alexi just stares at me as though I have two heads.

“Why are you bringing this up now? Is this what’s gotten you so upset?” It’s not an answer, it’s another deflection, and it breaks me. Pathetic woman once more with tears and ridiculous over emotional reactions turning into a sodden mess at this guy’s feet. I start to sniff and whimper pathetically.

“I can’t … babies are a no, ever. Even if I wanted to keep you by giving you one. I couldn’t. That life, that dream will never be a reality if you stick with me, Alexi. I can’t have kids and I don’t even want any if I could. There’s no future for us if that’s what you need.” It’s blurted out in a trembling mess, splattered with sniffs and tears as I get myself all twisted up inside and hysterical, awaiting death by divorce. He has no clue how deeply this will destroy me. Losing him now, after everything, will be the end of me. My lungs completely deflate, and I struggle so hard to catch my breath.

“Jesus Christ, Cam. You see me cuddle my niece and suddenly, you’re having a meltdown thinking I want to knock you up and reproduce. Calm down and take a breath.”

It’s a weird tone I cannot read, and I just blink at him, hopeless at stopping my tears. He seems at a loss about whether to touch me or not, his hand hovering and then he straightens up and looks away for a second to regain his own composure. His frown smoothing as he adopts a gentler expression and comes back at me. He leans in against the wall, placing a hand over my head so he can get close without properly touching me and sighs. Moving in so he’s right against me and it brings me to focus rather than my flailing erratic crying.

“I know you can’t have kids. I read your journals. It’s never been an issue, and the reason we haven’t talked about this is I figured it was obvious I knew. Even before, we never used protection and yet you never asked me why?” That soft tone of my gentle lover, the eyes I love caressing me with a tenderness he reserves for me when I’m fragile. Low and sultry, calming me with words. I stop dying by suffocation and take a quick gasping breath.

“What?” My brain is trying to process and filter what he is saying, and the expression on his overly calm face as I wipe at my sodden cheeks, helps me feel slightly less hysterical at his response. I expected shock at my revelation but then I am one for jumping two feet first into wrong conclusions.

It’s obvious he knew all along as he seems completely unfazed.

“I have never used condoms with you. You never once queried that. I figured you were on birth control at first, hospital tested you as clean but then after … you never asked so …”

“I don’t get what you’re saying.” I stutter and stammer at the same time as trying to get myself back to calm and normal. I have a vague memory of the hospital asking if I would consent to a complete health sweep, which included sexual health, when I was there, and it dawns on me that he probably requested it before putting me in his club. Pre-vetting his chances of catching an STD from me back when he acted like sex would never happen.

Dickhead.

Alexi straightens up, inhales, runs his hands through his hair and fixes me with a very serious expression. Slightly agitated and that restless energy peeking through. This is him stressed, now I know what it looks like. It sobers me and I just steady myself, looking at his profile.

“I don’t want kids. Why would I? With my history and my issues, what kind of father would I be? What would I pass on and why would I put my kids in danger the way my father did with us? It’s bad enough worrying about keeping you safe twenty-four seven, I just couldn’t be a father. I never saw kids in my future either and still don’t.” He pulls me to him, meeting no rejection from my limp self this time and wipes my face gently, removing the traces of tears as I silently gawp at him, really taking in what he is saying.

“Maybe right now you feel that way, but what if one day …” I start again, brain doing what she always does, picking everything apart to mess me up more than I am already. That infernal deep-rooted insecurity that I will never truly deserve happiness.

“I had a vasectomy ten years ago, Cam.” It’s a straight-faced, factual statement, and he throws it out there between us with a thud.

Bam!

“Huh?” I really do gawp like a goldfish this time, mouth widening and just blink like a weirdo. All hysteria slapped silent and his words are like an icy bucket of water on a very small fire. I just sizzle to nothing.

“Why?” I’m not sure I know how to react.

“For all the reasons I just told you, and to make sure a one-night fuck didn’t come back at me with an unwanted pregnancy. Women are devious and things can fail.”

We both stand there for a moment letting this sit between us in the cool air of the shade. A silent, tense moment as my brain processes this and he waits on me to catch up, hand still tracing gentle lines on my cheek as he soothes me and dries my face.

Alexi made sure he would never reproduce, on purpose. That stubborn calculating head, ten years ago now, decided that kids would be a never. I know him. He doesn’t make decisions lightly when they are this serious, and his expression tells me he doesn’t regret it one bit.

He truly was made for me in every way.

I lose all doubt, my sadness and panic dispersing as though all this was nothing.

After a long moment, I slide my other hand into his and relax a little when he tangles our fingers together snugly. Believing him, feeling reassured by what he’s told me. Inhaling slowly to self-calm and locking eyes on his to gauge if he is being one hundred percent honest with me.

“I thought they were reversible, so one day you might decide …” It’s an unsteady, trembling whisper. I just need to be a hundred percent certain this won’t come back to bite me.

“Nope. Not a chance. I never want kids. I made that decision a long time ago and even marrying you hasn’t changed my mind on that. I don’t need kids when my family produce babies every few months, there are always kids to borrow and hand back at family lunches. It’s a moot subject and always will be.”

That stubborn, commander and chief and his word is law. This time I get a tiny smile from him, a hint at humour, and I shake my head trying to take it in and remove all doubts and fears slowly. My nerves returning to calm and I’m left drained and emotional from my ten-minute meltdown.

“I don’t like babies or small people. I don’t want to borrow any in the first place.” I shake my head in disgust, the thought of baby vomit and dirty diapers are a no for me, and I guess I want no more illusions or misunderstandings on this front. Confident in our love once more and finding my stability again as my voice returns to normal. Disaster averted.

“I can live with that. Babies kind of kill the Mafia boss street cred, anyway.” He smiles properly this time, a warm chuckle that melts me to my core and makes it all okay again. He pushes me back against the wall a tad forcefully, so he can lean in to rest his nose against mine and completely cages me in with his body, so I’m cocooned in all that is him. He trails another soft stroke down my cheek, igniting tingles and fireworks inside me and completely calms me, finally, eyes locked and air filled with his scent.

“It’s more fun making the baby than having one, in my opinion. We get all the perks with no chance of disaster.” It’s a grin, dimples and all, and this time I giggle through the watery mess I made of myself.

“Now on that, I agree. Maybe we can just go home and get right to that instead of this little shindig.” I need that sort of pick me up after this stupid meltdown.

“That’s a good idea. I think we are more than done here and some time alone will put this to bed. I need to make some calls and sort some shit out too. Let’s get out of here.” Alexi leans in and kisses me into submission, hands skimming my curves as he raises my body heat with tongue and tonsil action before pulling away, leaving me breathless. My body peaks up faster than normal considering he left me unfulfilled from our earlier rendezvous and the emotional wailing is replaced by the horny moaning of a girl in desperate need of sex. Almost like flipping a switch.

“Can I tell your mother we’re leaving, to go shag and have some more dirty whore sex?’ I twinkle a mischievous smile his way wickedly, and he shakes his head at me, that sexy smile spreading across that flawless set of pearly whites.