Novel Name : The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 72


‘‘I came to talk to you,’’ I mumble out through garbled sobs and stutters and watch as his jaw tightens
and his brows furrow devilishly. He looks anything but happy to see me and now I know what severe
foolishness feels like as it floods through me at speed.

‘’There’s nothing to say. Look at the state of you … what the hell, Cam?’’ Alexi stalks towards me at
speed and I instinctively skate back on my arse and raise the bottle defensively. All he does is swipe it
out of my hand and slam it on the counter over my head as he stands over me, ignoring the fact I am
curling into a little ball as he leans back to look at me.

‘’How much have you had to drink? Drunk and soaked … Do you want to get sick again?’’ He
demands, sounding like an angry dad, and leans down to scrutinise me by grabbing my chin with two
fingers, so he can angle my face and get a proper look at me. He pulls my face from side to side while
he scrutinises me and I slap his hand away, abhorring his touch and hating him for everything, shoving
him in the shoulder to get my space back, but he doesn’t move.

It never dawned on me that maybe I got this horrendously drunk because I was still sick, and it could
account for how weak and weird I feel on top of plain pissed.

‘’What does that matter? I’m a grown up, I can do what I want!’’ It’s a childish slurring mess and barely
coherent as it falls out of my mouth thoughtlessly. I’m digging in my heels because he is being his
boorish cold self and he snarls at me with distaste.

‘’Sloppy drunk and irresponsible added to your list of assets. Well done, Cam.’’ He sounds like the
bastarding sarcastic prick he always is, and I wonder why I even thought I could have this out with him
and get any attitude other than this. I try and ignore his insult even though it bites and suddenly makes
me ashamed of being this drunk.

It was stupid and not me, but isn’t this what he has done? Ground me down and made me become
someone I never thought I would be. I don’t even know who I am anymore!



He gets up and walks off, nodding at the girl to move away from the door, and jerks his head towards
the couch. Like a good little puppy, she obediently trots over and sits down while eyeing him up
adoringly. Brainless, submissive, awaiting his every command with pathetic enthusiasm. I cannot even
look at her as Alexi looks out of his apartment door to check if we are alone, before shutting it and us
inside.

I glare at her hatefully, hating what she represents and why she is here. I was a fool for this man and
he just reminded me of that.

‘’How did you get in here?’’ He turns on me, more out of curiosity than accusation, but still very pissed
and pulls my attention back to him. I gaze at that enquiring, angry frown for a moment and then sigh
heavily and relent. I wanted to talk so I may as well grasp at his olive branch to do so, seeing as I half
expected him to pick me up and bodily throw me out already.

‘’Your security is shit, and I have more assets than you give me credit for.’’ I pull myself up with the help
of the cupboard handle and get to my feet while reaching for the vodka bottle. I feel knocked by his
appearance and reverting to my plan of staying sloshed to get through this. I need something to give
me the strength to deal with him and his fuckbuddy. I pull it over and lift it to take another drink. Right
now death by booze sounds like a great way to go and it would end the miserable existence known as
my life.

I barely get the neck to my lips when it’s yanked out of my hands, a firm grip on my upper arm pulls me
back and away from the counter top, so I sway badly and almost topple over, gasping with the fright he
gives me.

‘‘What the …?’’ I grasp out to steady myself, clinging to him as he throws the bottle into the sink with a
clattering smash, shards and liquid spraying everywhere, and he ruins any chance of me drinking any
more vodka.



‘’Enough booze, you can barely stand. You are a mess! What the hell were you thinking coming here
and getting this smashed? What the fuck are you doing?’’ Alexi swings me to face him, so my hands
meet his hard chest automatically to steady myself, and it is like an emotional trigger. Close proximity,
touching him, and he’s not being the worst kind of arsehole, yet. He’s sort of being semi normal for him
and it just hits home why I did come here.

‘’I love you.’’ I blurt it out stupidly, insanely and through a mass of snot and tears and complete
incoherent drunkenness. I have no idea why this sudden declaration is what I choose to answer with,
but he freezes and looks at me with a completely deadpan expression that pretty much kills all weird
hopes that maybe, just maybe, he cares.

The long pause of unreadable silence almost kills me, but he does loosen his grip on my arm and just
stands looking at me until I feel like I may shrivel from the exposure to those soulless eyes.

‘’I thought you had more class than that … Is this the level of skill you have? A love declaration,
drunken tears and an invasion on my apartment. Are you really that desperate?’’

And there he is, son of a bitch, sadistic and cruel all in one venomous sentence as he lets go of me to
stumble on my own jelly legs. As though I am something disgusting to the touch. He steps back and
just glares at me as I sway on my feet, tears hitting harder than before and that aching spiking pain in
my tummy spreads to my chest and throat.

‘‘It’s not a lie, why do you think I am this drunk and this upset? You keep pushing me out of your life.’’ I
sound desperate and I sound pathetic—even I can hear it, and I cannot stop the torrent of tears rolling
down my cheeks. I have never allowed myself to be this way in front of any man since Rick raped me in
my own home. He has no idea how far from a game plan this is. I have no plan at all.

Alexi starts clapping his hands in a soft applause, startling me with a jump, and he smirks at me coldly.
It’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting, and it stills my tears for a moment as I just stare right back



at him, bleeding out from my heart. Completely confused at his response.

‘‘Bravo, great performance baby … really had me hook line and sinker for sure! Now … What exactly is
it you want, so we can avoid the amateur dramatics and get down to the point? I don’t do manipulation
and if you think I’ll be swayed by this shit, you’re wrong. I don’t give a fuck about you and I have plans,
so spit it out.’’ He moves in close enough to say it in my face with meaning and hatred, then moves
away and heads past me to go retrieve a bottle of whisky from the counter and pours himself a drink,
oblivious to my emotional distress.

He really is a hard-hearted prick. I cast my eyes over blondie on her perch, who is staring at her nails
and looking completely smug about what’s happening, and throw her a filthy look. She’s all fake nails,
fake hair, fake tits and fake lips, under a cheap slutty dress and fake designer shoes. A pale reflection
of what I offered him.

I hate her as much as I hate myself right now and I wish I had more sense than to come and do this.
This is exactly how I should have known it would be.

‘’I just want you to care.’’ I turn back to watch him and try like crazy to stop the waterfall pouring down
my face, but he has a knack of finding new ways to pull pain from deep within me and inflict it in higher
doses. If I thought I was crushed with it before he walked in, I’m at new levels now and struggling to
breathe.

‘‘Well I don’t, in fact, since I met you my life has been one constant headache, and I am looking forward
to never laying eyes on you again. Does that sound like someone who gives a shit about you,
London?’’ His cruelty and the way he looks at me over his shoulder before he throws his drink down his
throat almost ends me and I break into a thousand pieces once again, like the many other times he has
done this.



‘‘Why do you have to be this way? Why are you so hateful towards me? What did I ever do to you to
deserve this?’’ It’s out in a rush of trembling words, tripping over each other and almost incoherent in a
garbled mess. I sound whiny and pathetic almost on my knees with the effort of keeping the room still,
everything spinning away from me as alcohol courses through my system and makes this situation a
whole lot worse.

‘‘Maybe because you think you are more important than any of the other women in my life and push
past your station at every opportunity. You need a reality check … You are nothing but a trashy whore
who let me fuck you more than once and can’t accept that’s all this has been. Money and sex, and now
I’m done with you.’’ He shrugs me away and turns back to pour himself a second drink, jaw tight and
brows dipped, not even trying to conceal his anger at me.


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Read The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) Chapter 72 By L.T.Marshall

The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) Chapter 72 Updated Here. The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) Author L.T.Marshall update Chapter 72,He held her close, never wanting to let her go,Their love was a melody, sweet and enchanting,Hand in hand, they walked along the moonlit beach,Their love story was written in the constellations above,She found home in the warmth of his embrace,With a tender kiss, he promised to never let her go, The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) Has the latest chapter been updated?

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