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

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.