The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) novel Chapter 188

They lead us to a large, carved, ugly wooden door depicting nude women mid-orgy, and I eye roll at the crassness. Suits Santagato to a T. Mico slides in front of us quickly, knocks on it several times in a coded bang while we wait silently and patiently. Tension making the air so thick I can almost cut it with a knife. I have to still my trembling body, clinging onto him for dear life, focusing on his warm hand encasing mine snugly as a form of grounding and I repeat the mantra ‘he will always protect me’ inside my head.

It’s opened immediately and two men move aside as we are let into a dark, smoky room where several men are sitting at a long table. I cannot count how many there are, eyes scanning the crowded scene quickly as my focus tries to adjust rapidly. I swallow my breath, my heart plummets and I just let him take the lead.

Alexi walks us in behind two of his men and Mico. I can tell at a glance which ones are the bosses, by their suits and grim expressions, while all the rest of the men in black coats and heavy builds are obviously security. I catch sight of the enemy for the first time and instantly want to strangle the bitch to death as her eyes meet mine and she throws a smug little smirk our way.

Sat halfway down the table and flanked by two men in grey suits, she looks cocky and arrogant, homed in on us as we move in and get ushered to two empty seats at the head of the table.

She’s older than I expected, maybe late forties, early fifties, dyed brown hair piled on her head messily, no doubt trying to look sexy. She has way too much makeup on to appear more attractive, but she is missing the natural beauty that's needed to really pull off her look. Her clothes are tailored, an attempt at sharp businesswoman, but she just looks dowdy and out of place.

She’s haggard and tired looking and I can’t stop glaring at her with as much venom as I can muster. She lacks that air of command that these ageing men and scary bosses have. Alexi has more presence in his pinkie toe than her entire entourage. She is a major disappointment to what I had built up in my head.

“Interesting. Bringing along your little toy to a sit-down, Alexi. So like you to send a message in everything you do.” She smirks to herself, so self-assured in the fact she thinks she knows why I’m here, and it gives me a moment to throw a devious smile her way. Knowing she has no clue why my presence here is so important or what I am to him now. She is about to get a rude awakening that will wipe that idiotic arsehole look off her fake face.

Alexi ignores her, it’s like she didn’t even address him at all and just looks to where he is guiding me. He leads us to our seats, in his own time, and pulls my chair out for me, patiently waiting while I slide in and he finally lets my hand go before pushing it in for me again as I connect. Deliberately slow and controlled, making it clear no one rushes him or gets any sort of interaction until he decides. It’s a power play on his part and as the room falls completely silent, I realise how effective it is.

It’s odd being sat at the top of these men, looking down the long narrow expanse of table littered with glasses and elbows. The other men in the room nod our way and give mumbled greetings, nods, showing their respect, and it’s pretty obvious, even to me, that despite it being a five-family treaty, they treat Alexi like the Godfather. Head of the table says it all. They have been waiting for him and placing him here gives him the authority in this meeting.

He sits after I’m settled and leans back in his chair before fixing his gaze on the woman who caused us so much grief. Precise in his manner, smoothing his jacket out and moves his water glass to the side out of his way. Making it obvious he isn’t in any way bothered by her presence.

“What did I miss?” Alexi throws it out there and turns his attention to Santagato with a shoulder rotate, easing out his muscle, like two dudes catching up after the gym.

I cringe when I see that man, sitting directly to my right, and try not to look at him too obviously, hoping no one really notices me tucked in here. Santagato is still a letch and a dangerous man I want no interaction with. He may not have made an attempt on my life, but he is still one hell of a bastard.

Apart from her, I’m the only other woman in the room and it makes me wholly uncomfortable. The symbolism in that is overwhelming. These men do not bring their women to this shit. Alexi has to be breaking some sort of rule, surely.

“Just our lady here bigging herself up and trying to convince us we should allow her to take her father’s place in the treaty to govern New York.” Santagato sneers at that, obviously not impressed.

Alexi laughs, that deep sadistic chuckle, as though it’s highly amusing to him, and rocks back in his chair a little more. Fixing her with a penetrative gaze that could shatter glass. I hold my breath and posture, still as a statue and just watch, unable to do much else. So tense I literally feel rigid. Alexi seems right at home though, surrounded by these suits and taking over his chair like he owns it.

“Your father never had a place in this treaty so there is no place to take, Marianne.” He fixes her with a penetrative gaze, and she has the audacity to laugh right back. Smug in herself and no clue who she is dealing with. She has no concept of who he can be and that is worrying. I might start the timer on how long it takes before she finds out.

“We both know that’s just a technicality. We were supposed to be a part of this until your families wiped them all out.” She raises a haughty brow and I glance at Alexi quickly, the amused chuckle, the small shake of his head. Not bothered by her retort.

“You take no responsibility for his actions then? The reason we had to. He placed hits on our families' most vulnerable, like a coward!” Another boss steps in, enraged at the nerve of the woman, bursting forward onto the table and slamming his hands down in rage. I sit back and watch as the men around the table mutter their complaints at her flawed logic loudly. Getting agitated verbally and Alexi raises his palm to hush them all into immediate silence. They do as instructed, a deathly silent wave falling over us instantly which again confirms he is boss in this today.

“Is that the legacy you wish to carry on?” he asks her smoothly, taking control once more.

Marianne looks around them all and smiles like a Cheshire cat. Unfazed at their grumbles and I can see her mistake. She assumes these fat rich men have gone soft in all the years of living in a peaceful city. She thinks she can swoop in with a little intimidation and just take up a place left vacant by her father.

Why? Because she thinks Alexi is the only one to be reckoned with and she thinks she has his number. He didn’t retaliate so maybe he has gone soft. I can see it in her eyes. The far too confident brain of a stupid woman who has become power drunk on her achievements so far. She has no idea who she is fucking with or that the only thing holding him back is his family.

“I want to carry on where my father left off. I have way more capability to rule than he ever did.”

She thinks this sit-down is like a little business negotiation where she puts her demands, and all is forgiven and forgotten. She showed her muscle and her reach by targeting women that had no real value and now thinks she has earned a place in the group of New York’s most powerful. She thinks she can leave here today with a position on their board and a chunk of New York in her pocket.

As if it was that easy.

Woman thinks the crime lords have got rich, fat and lazy over the years and want to avoid bloodshed at all costs. You can tell she has never existed among the underbelly of these people or seen how disposable life is when someone gets in their way. She was raised spoiled, wealthy and entitled, and has a superiority that will be her undoing. She is no crime lord at all. Just a cocky bitch with a few hired guns and a lot of money. No match for my man and I can already see the cogs turning in his head as he sizes her up.

He is gifted at reading people in situations like this, and I can tell he is relaxing by the second with what faces him. A fly on his windscreen and easy to squish. I relax too, a little reassured this will not be the bloodfest I envisioned and lean towards him to feel his body heat through my dress, to slow my racing heart and find that much-needed security of being near him.

“So, what do you bring to the table, aside from murdering women and children?” Alexi cuts through all the bullshit of this play nice conversation and she fixes her attention on him with a sly little look.

“Oh, little Alessandro Carrero. You seem to be the main man nowadays. You know, I wasn’t surprised to hear you had grown through the ranks until you took control as head of the board. Even at thirteen, when you shot my fiancée, you showed promise as a ruthless leader. What happened to you, huh? Where is that formidable killer I heard so much about? Seems to me that was all pissing in the wind to scare off folks trying to move into this city. Was that your first and last killing, little boy?” She deflects with sarcasm, trying to show the upper hand and humiliate him. Eyes narrowed and prick side on show.

Oh, I swear to God. Shoot her Alexi. Right in the face, in fact, do it somewhere that makes her die slowly so I can take the time to stick the bird at her and watch her squirm in agony.

I haven’t hated anyone this much in a long time but damn, I fucking hate this cow. Her attitude when she doesn’t even know him. I wriggle in my seat as volcanic temper simmers inside me and try so hard to be as still and panther-like as he is. All that perfect cool control he has is breathtaking. He just fixes her with that deadpan look that used to drive me nuts.

“You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to get a rise out of me. Your manipulation skills leave a lot to be desired. I guess age is not always an indicator of skills or competence, old lady.” Alexi, smooth and smug, sweeps in and shuts her down with a controlled tone, a putdown and a laid-back manoeuvre; he casually lounges in his chair, so he looks bored as hell with minimum effort. The man who stood in my hospital room and scared the bejesus out of me is here in all his glory, owning this scenario, manipulating it subtly. She just shrugs, trying to deliver the same level of iciness, but cannot hide the way her hand trembles as she reaches for water to moisten her dry throat. Annoyed that he just rebuffed her cattiness effortlessly and made her look foolish.

I already know Alexi would never sate his thirst and show a hint of weakness or fear. A dry throat definitely signals apprehension and nerves. Amateur move girly, even I know that.

“If I had anything to worry about, I would be dead already. It’s obvious things have slipped since my father’s day.” She smiles bitchily, a wobble in her voice and I guess his manner is unnerving her. That icy, penetrating gaze that pierces your soul as he pulls you apart, and does so in such stealth stillness, it freaks everyone out.

He truly is the King when it comes to this stuff.

“Cute.” He just smiles devilishly and seems wholly amused at her attempts to better him. Marianne takes another drink, lifts a brow to signal she isn’t affected, but her body language is dissolving and it’s obvious she is starting to waiver. I think she expected an easier negotiation and straight down to business, as her ballsy attitude has a shelf life. It was all a front in a bid to appear in control until the real man of the hour swept in and showed her how a boss acts. No one can prepare you for a showdown with Alexi and it’s obvious she wasn’t expecting the thirteen-year-old kid she remembers to be this predator before her.

Good looks, impeccable DNA and a sexy wardrobe throw you off a little at first, but five seconds talking to his demon side and you know your number's up. He wears intimidation like a cloak and its aura is strong.

Alexi’s lap lights up under the table and draws my eye. I realise he has his cell phone sitting just out of sight and he glances down so subtly it’s practically unnoticed. I side squint at his face unsure what his message says but I catch Santagato throwing him a sideways glance too before he looks down to where his hand is under the table. I guess he has texted him.

The hackles on my neck rise as, out of the corner of my eye, I notice Mico is throwing some shady looks to the man on his left after he looks at his own phone, and the overwhelming sense of foreboding hits me hard. Tiny hints and signals from Alexi’s men that most would miss but I know their language from watching them protect the club. Something is stirring.

The one Mico is eyeing up I don’t recognise, and a strange atmosphere seems to emanate from Alexi almost instantly. Something changing in the surrounding air.

“Is that all you have to say? You’re awfully quiet, are you trying to scramble a comeback?” Smug bitch raises a brow, and I really want to throw my glass at her.

“Not at all. Just a bad cell phone reception day.” Alexi jokes and she looks confused at that response. As am I. I turn to him questioningly as he sits up a little straighter, places his phone on the table in front of him carefully, and locks eyes on her menacingly.

“Just awaiting a signal ... much like this one,” Alexi smirks, nods in a hardly noticeable way that would look like nothing to anyone else, and suddenly everything erupts. One tilt of his chin and men leap into instant action.

In the blink of an eye, the men on either side of her are yanked backwards violently, by the men in suits behind that I thought were with her. Clear plastic bags pulled over their heads and zip tied around their throats in the most grotesque, frightening fashion; so fast it’s like a dance that has been rehearsed to precision, stealthily done. It’s speedy and efficient, and she lets out a scream as the man behind her grabs her wrists and pins her to the table in a full body hold that disables her from helping her men.

I literally recoil in panic, nearly swallowing my tongue as my heart rips out of my chest and I’m hit with a cold wave of fear.

The other men at the table react in many ways. Some gasp and lurch back in their chairs, shocked, some sit steadfast, unfazed by this brutal scene, but it’s Santagato and Alexi who draw my eye as the fear and panic course through me, strangling me into frozen terror. My heart almost self-combusting, it’s hammering so fast, but I hold firm like I told him I would. Unable to do anything else.

Keep your shit together, breathe.

They nod at each other, a clear signal of partnered planning as two men in front of my eyes suffocate to death slowly in the most terrifying and traumatising few minutes. Bodies twitching and writhing while being held still by muscular men with zero expression. The wide-eyed terror and gasping, godawful sounds as the bags deflate, fog up and cling to their faces, sucking into the cavernous space made by gaping mouths and the whole table shudders with the kicks of their feet trying to get them loose.

I swallow instant tears, choke on panic and cling to the table until my knuckles turn white. Labouring breaths as I try to keep my head together. It’s excruciating to watch and nothing at all like in the movies.

My skin pales all over as life and blood drains away, yet I’m rooted to the spot watching this horrific scene, knowing instinctively I shouldn’t show any weakness to what I’m witnessing.

No one else moves or speaks until the gasping and thrashing subsides and two bodies slump forward heavily and facepalm the desk. They are dumped unceremoniously now that life has been stolen away.

It’s awful and I feel like I’m sat in some daymare, grasping Alexi’s leg under the table to try to keep myself calm as the woman’s wails turn raspy, tears streaming down her face. Her composure gone and skin white as mine must be.

“Why? Why?” She screams again as she is released and grabs at the man on her right, but try as she might to rouse him, it’s obvious he's dead. Pulling at him, pawing at the bag on his head to get it off with fumbling fingers as she realises, she's too late. It’s pathetic and traumatising and my eyes bite with tears, emotion swirling at what I just witnessed.

Alexi stays steadfast, slides a hand over mine to offer gentle touch and remind me he's still with me. I inhale heavily to calm my own shuddering limbs and pull myself together as quietly as I can. Shock overtaking.

“You really should know better than to move into my city and come after my wife. Did you really think I would ever let someone threaten mine and not fucking react?” Those last few biting words of cruelty and Alexi’s devilish, sadistic tone, that can still put the fear of God into me, shuts up the hysterical banshee across from me. She looks up, tears pouring down her sodden, blotchy face, makeup running, skin white and almost translucent with the fear of knowing this is the end for her. Her badly played plan coming back to bite her in the arse as she clings to a limp body that offers no help anymore. Breaking in front of me.