The Carrero Contract 1: Selling Your Soul

After four weeks of overseeing refurbishments, my mood isn’t exactly improving where Carrero is concerned. In a month, I have learned nothing of value about him, not managed to get under that mask of indifference or become anything more than an annoying voice in his day.

He comes and sometimes goes, with another bimbo in tow, and I am sick to death of hearing the women wailing like banshees through sex anytime he stays over. I never opted for a roommate who had a sex drive of a serial screwer, and I sure as hell don’t want to fall into bed every night and listen to some slapper getting off with him when I am tired and pissed off.

I’m frustrated with the lay of the land, which is not what I thought it would be. He’s infuriating and cold, bossy as shit and utterly devoid of any normal human emotion. He has all the upper hand, and I’m nothing more than a glorified concierge in the making.

Our relationship is strained to say the least, and we are no more ‘’friends’’ than we were on that first day. I feel like I might hate him, even if he is still too pretty for words. He’s the most complex person to warm to that I have ever met, and every move he makes is wholly planned in every way. He’s the King of manipulation and has a brain that seems to be constantly ticking behind soulless eyes that give nothing away; he’s a player, alright, a very clever, devious one who only lets people that share his DNA close to him.

Everyone else gets kept at arm’s length, and he’s forever strolling in and out like Master of the universe and barking orders at me. I have had it up to here with him. Even if he only stays overnight a couple of times a week, he is in and out the rest of the week like a freaking yoyo.

The club is slowly changing. Lucie is sulking like a wet dog and avoiding looking my way for fear of reprimand from his master, and I swear if Carrero commanded it, Lucie would lick his boots. He tries to exert authority when Alexi is absent, but I have learned that ignorance is how to deal with him.

I eye roll, sigh and walk away like he’s nothing more than a buzzing fly around my head, and it gets to him way more than outright defiance. He now spends all his time hiding in his office and hating on me from afar with ugly little squinty looks.

‘‘Here, I want you to get a dress for tonight; opera suitable.’’ Alexi tosses a credit card at me across his desk as he walks into the room I have been sitting in, waiting for him for the last half hour. He told me to come up here, and as usual, like every fucking time, he made me wait for him until I couldn’t stand it any longer, then wanders in when I am on the verge of storming out.

He does it on purpose, and it grinds on me hellishly. The guy gets a kick out of me sitting around endlessly, bored to tears while he swans around, and eventually shows up to wander in and act like my purpose in life is to wait on him.

‘‘Run out of trampy dates to take?‘’ I throw him some sass, no longer able to conceal my dislike when he’s around, and I no longer have a desire to. Most women fall at his feet, and I would rather ooze hostility.

His ego is big enough, and I will not add to it. For the most part, he ignores me anyway after his initial chastising on my ‘’attitude.’’

‘’I want someone who knows how to work a man. I’m finally making use of all the pent up frustrated sexual tension you have going on; it’s business, and I have someone I want you to charm for me.’’ He throws me a smug look, and the thought of pushing his letter opener in his face right now crosses my mind. It’s within reach and very sharp. I wouldn’t even feel bad about leaving a permanent scar on that face.

‘‘So, no sex until you demand it of me, with a man of your choosing?’’ I can’t conceal my disdain, my voice dripping with venom to match my mood. It’s no different to the fucking pricks who ruled my life for years. I’m just another prostitute in a classy dress with a higher breed of customers.

Alexi makes me sick to my stomach, and I sometimes wish I had the guts to poison his coffee. Alexi closes the gap between us to where I am standing and tilts my chin to his face with a finger. Surprising me with the sudden physical contact and immediately muting my mind fury. I become docile and compliant with the surprise of the manoeuvre and stare up at him while rendered silent.

‘‘My property, remember? I said charm, not fuck.’’ He penetrates my brain with a loaded look, and I lose all courage when faced with his hands on me. It’s like being touched with a supercharged electric volt anytime he even gets close to doing it, and he can render me completely useless in the seconds after. I hate that he has that effect on me.

‘’You want me to flirt and seduce someone to do your bidding. What happens when you don’t let him follow through?’’ I query, unsurely trying to shake off the effects of his skin on mine with very little success.

Alexi lets me go, walks around me into the open area of his desk to where his seat is, and carries on looking in a drawer for something. ‘’You have skills, London; use them. Make him think you possibly would behind my back, but not enough that he thinks you will. He knows better than to cross me in that way, and you are well versed in the wiles of the fairer sex. You drop practised mannerisms constantly and live on your looks, so I’m sure you can handle it. Sex is one of your little games, and mediocre men don’t know any better.’’

Fuck off, wanker!

I hate that he can deliver a put-down with incredible ease and a smug look.

‘’So I am to play adoring squeeze but give the man the eyeful and tease. Manipulation at its finest; I guess he’s a man who can be swayed by his dick; otherwise, you wouldn’t be taking me tonight, right?’’

‘’You catch on quick. He’s a contender for the next mayor of New York, high in the right places and influential. He has a thing for redheads and has a sexless marriage that makes him an easy target for seduction. While you’re distracting him with your assets, I’ll be manoeuvring some favours he won’t even realise he’s agreeing to.’’ Alexi straightens, pulls a file from the desk, and slaps it on top. I can see from here it’s something to do with property, and I guess he needs licenses or other nonsense for another purchase. Alexi has his fingers in many pies, and I cannot keep up with his multiple wheeling and dealing at all hours of every day.

His phone never stops vibrating, and Mico, his very similar-looking cousin and constant sidekick is as much a personal assistant as he is his head of security. He flanks him almost constantly.

I have learned in the past month that most of the business Carrero oversees is surface legitimate. The dodgy dealings going on in the shadows, and if you didn’t know any better, you would mistakenly think he was another wealthy entrepreneur with his hand in many gold pots in this city. I happen to know differently, though and overheard one of his millions of black suits that follow him around talking about a weapon shipment in his office last week. Alexi confirmed a load at the docks, and I know he already has enough narcotic product in the USA to pave his properties with gold should he want to. I cannot even begin to estimate his net worth or that of the family he heads.

I have no desire to know what shit he has going on outside of the job he put me here for. I know he’s only the frontman, and many Carreros are interlaced in this empire, each with their personal dealings and businesses that make up the family fortune. Alexi is their nominated leader, making all the big decisions while referring to his board of advisors— uncles, father and grandfather. They are not a family you don’t want to annoy, but they are impressively organised and seamlessly work. They sit in darkened shadows and help him rule from afar.

The less I know, the better. If I ever want a chance to break free from his reign over me, then I will keep my knowledge scant. The thought of being tied to this jackass for a lifetime is soul-destroying. I am so over how hot he is on the outside when on the inside, a soul-sucking demon resides and peeks out at you wickedly.

‘’I’ll push up my boobs and choose a suitable prick tease of an outfit.’’ I pick up the card and slide it into my cleavage with a naughty little smile. Always excited to have a shopping spree.

Today’s dress offers a little ogle, but it’s long and fitted as I believe in having one peek at a time, and Alexi is more of a leg man, even with it right there for a complimentary look. I have an ample bust, and he has never really gazed that way with any real interest for any length of time. Some men like legs, some like arse and most like boobs, but Alexi seems to change his mind based on the weather, and today is not a cleavage day for him. He barely glances at my girls.

‘’Classy. Opera … Go for something not black to stand out among all the tuxedos and demure mistresses. I want him to notice you first, put your hair up. You look more knock-out with it that way and go easy on the makeup.’’

What the actual fuck?

I know he’s a controlling bastard, but telling me how to look tonight takes the goddamn piss.

I don’t think so.

He has a knack for igniting that bubbling pit of lava deep inside me that sparks my temper. Biting my lip to stop the instant knee-jerk reaction to tell him to fuck off, I try for a straight face.

‘‘I am capable of making those kinds of decisions. I’m sure I don’t need direction on how to dress or make myself presentable.’’ Despite my calm demeanour, I let that blatant disdain loose in my tone, and he freezes slightly, pausing as he flicks through his file. His body seems to get much more aggressive without doing much at all. I have learned how much he hates it when questioned or disobeyed, and I am well-versed in doing both.

‘‘If I have to pick the dress and put it on you while having one of the bar girls get you ready, I will. I’m telling you how I want you to look, so that’s what I expect when you walk down here at seven.’’

He has an edge to his voice, a look on that tightening jaw of brimming annoyance, and I throw my hair over my shoulder defiantly even though my courage has taken a quick run for cover and my insides are recoiling a tad. He scares me shitless, but I won’t ever let him know it.

‘’Fine, whatever, it’s your money, and I will ensure you get what you pay for. I’m amazed you don’t want me to dye my hair too.’’ I move to leave, still going for sass but with a lot less aplomb and trying to put distance between us as he follows me with his eyes.

‘’I happen to like the hair. It’s the first thing that ever drew my eyes to you. Red is your colour. Leave it as it is.’’

Well, I wasn’t expecting that!

‘’Was that a compliment …? Are you feeling okay? Do you need to lie down and let me take your temperature? ‘’I turn and raise a brow at him and catch his stern look receding slightly. Easing my fragile mood too, and for a moment, there is that rare thing that occasionally happens between us sporadically—where I forget to hate him for a few seconds and remember he is still fuckable. It’s rare, but it happens.

‘’Just go buy a dress, and don’t make me regret taking you. If you behave, I might reward you later.’’ That softer look and sexy half-smile he does bring out those surprise dimples he manages to hide most of the time.

What? Reward me? Hell no … Not a fucking chance he is getting me tied up in that bedroom of his.

No matter how much he looks like sex might be worthwhile, I have heard some of the noises from women he has in there, and I am not getting involved in any of the shit he does. I recoil with the last moment of hate reversal and remind myself what a dick head he is instead. Over my dead body, am I laying myself down to become a victim at his hands in his chamber of pain.

‘’You can throw more dresses my way, and I’m content. Easy to please with shoes. I’m totally fine with material possessions and don’t need very much else; completely shallow gold digger over here.’’ I deflect cleverly, clarifying that banging him is no longer on my agenda while injecting a little half-serious humour instead. I see what he’s like in life, and that much commandeering aggression poured on a helpless woman is not my idea of fun. I will never be one of his submissive women, and my angle of using him is long gone. Ever!

Alexi looks at me oddly with that furrowed brow over narrowed eyes as he hones in on me. It’s like he’s trying to dig through my face and into my head, and I break the look by turning away, brushing off both his intense gaze and the weird, awkward moment of pause between us.

‘‘Go buy a dress. Be ready. You have till seven, as I said. I hate being made to wait.’’

How ironic.

He sounds different, and for a second, I wonder what I said to get a tiny little reaction from a man that usually seems immune to me in every way. I am not waiting to ponder it and high tail out of his office, searching for Mico to drive me to the nearest boutique.