CAMILLA WALTERS thought she had come to the end of the road when fate caught up with her. No where left to run or hide, on the verge of becoming fish food at the hands of drug runners she owed a lot of money to. That was until fate brought her ALEXI, head of the family CARRERO - The unexpected hero who saved her ass and changed her life in one easy manouvre. Who knew she would have to sign her soul over to the devil in a bid to stay alive and in doing so, lose her heart and mind in the process. This is not your typical hearts and roses story - Let the games begin and the war commence. This is book 7 in The Carrero Series, although you can read this without prior books. There are back story hints from previous books worked in, so this new trio can be read alone. For a fuller understanding then start with The Carrero Effect .
View MoreI turn in the uncomfortable, hard bed pulling the sheets up over the itchy hospital gown and try not to wince with every single pain that runs through my body. Even with the number of drugs they have pumped into me, it’s no picnic having broken ribs and a body that looks like it lost a fight with a train. I’m in agony and barely able to take a breath without the aching, burning shuddering waves, of a good old-fashioned beating.
Tyler and his men are animals and I hate to think where I would be if Sophie had left me to them; what was inevitably my last night on Earth if they had their way. The girl didn’t owe me a damn thing, but she saved my bacon, and now I will be eternally grateful to her even if we never see one another again.
I’m woozy, waking with the throbbing of pain after a fitful few hours dozing in and out of sleep. I feel like I have been here days already, even though I know the reality is, it’s only been half a day.
Sophie is probably long gone with her boyfriend and my name banished for all eternity for getting her caught up in my mess. Owing drug dealers a lot of money and not having the means to pay for it, is not something everyday girls want to deal with. Getting kidnapped off the street by thugs and threatened with imminent death will be a second to that.
I am just lucky she had a rich boyfriend who is related to New York’s biggest gangster; Alexi Carrero, and now, I guess I owe him my debt.
A shadow in the corner of my room startles me out of the last ounces of sleep as I jump in fright, my heart racing and plummeting into instant trembles, to see what looks like a man standing by my window near the door. It’s hard to make out properly with one eye swollen shut and the other barely able to focus in the darkness. The moonlit sky outside is illuminating him from behind so that to me, all I get is a sinister silhouette of a very large male, who is more than a little intimidating.
Standing tall and broad, taking up the small space with an aura of authority, and yet he is so very eerily still, staring at me silently; it’s almost like he’s a statue.
‘‘I didn’t mean to startle you, Miss Walters.’’ The smooth tone of a man in complete control, husky with a hint of an accent that isn’t quite New York. Foreign maybe, and so slight it’s only there in the odd little word, almost smothered out by a more upper-class City dialect. It’s as though he’s spent years here but maybe wasn’t born here.
Accents are kind of my thing, seeing as my own very upper crust London one stands out a mile when surrounded by tough New Yorkers. I made sure over the years that it never faded, and I avoided taking on American slang to avoid it.
My heart immediately shudders at where I’ve heard that specific accent before, at who this must be, and I blink as I try to make out his form a little more. Reaching for the lamp beside my bed and struggling to find where the nurse pushed the damn button control when she settled me for the night. I clear my throat nervously, heart hammering away in my chest, and struggle to try and sit, making a complete mess of doing so while wriggling about in the most excruciating manner. It’s painful as hell and my poor bones feel like I am putting them through a rigorous ordeal.
‘‘Please … don’t move on my account. I only came to see that you were being cared for. We can talk another time when you are recovered.’’ He moves away from the window, and I catch more of him in the light, confirming exactly who this is. I would recognise that physique and profile anywhere, after seeing him out there walking through his minions and Tyler’s men like the Kingpin of New York.
He isn’t someone you would ever forget in a hurry.
Alexi Carrero himself towers by the end of my bed and turns to me for a moment, stealth like a panther, so fluid and graceful in his movements. My breath halting in my lungs as my body shivers apprehensively; he just oozes danger and command so effortlessly that I can almost feel it in the room around me. This is a man I know I should be very afraid of, and I am.
Physically recoiling back into my sheets involuntarily as he moves a tad closer, my heart elevates and my breath hitches in nervousness. My whole body turns clammy.
‘‘I … I … Wasn’t expecting anyone in here so late.’’ I struggle to get the words out, sounding raspy and hoarse, my throat burning with the effort after spending my first hour here throwing up blood and phlegm while they tried to assess the damage to my body. It’s not exactly my crowning moment and you really do not want to be in this sort of state while meeting an Adonis who just saved your life.
‘‘I was passing by, checking in to see that all is being taken care of. Your bills will be coming to me and upon your release, we shall talk. We have some arrangements to discuss concerning our new relationship.’’ He is smooth and calm, almost like he’s amused, but not being able to see his face is making this whole thing utterly terrifying. He has the air of sinister alright, that vibe of someone who will put a bullet in your head as fast as look at you, and I am not sure I want to be left alone with him. He’s unnerving in a very intense way for someone not actually doing anything.
Not much makes me this nervous in life; I came from the streets, I lived through hell and have met my fair share of cruel and evil men, but this one is like meeting the devil himself. He is doing nothing purposely or outwardly to make me afraid of him, but the atmosphere is sizzling with something that tells me this Carrero has a darkness inside of him that could block out the sun.
Men of real power never need to state it or make it clear in any obvious way, it’s just there, like an aura and anyone who meets them does not have to question its legitimacy.
Alexi is one of those men—who wear command like a shroud about their person.
‘’My debt … came to you I presume? ’’ The words cut like glass in my aching throat, even though I should be grateful I am not at the bottom of the river right now, and for having him swoop in and save me from certain death at Tyler’s hands. I owe him fifty grand because of that stupid whore taking off with everything I had, trusting the wrong mousy little bitch and letting myself get distracted, but Alexi Carrero has a reputation that precedes him in the underworld.
He’s the stuff nightmares are made of, and I literally just became something he owns. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Head of his mafia family, operating under the guise of businessman, but anyone worth their weight in cocaine in this world knows that he’s the New York go to man if you want to conduct any business in this city at all. Without his blessing and greasing of palms you may as well get out of Dodge.
He swooped in and saved my bacon from mere street runners, and now I owe the main man himself my life on a fucking platter. It couldn't get any worse than that. He is not someone who needs to beat women half to death to chase up a drug debt; he is someone who will just drop you in the ocean, wearing metal boots, for not paying up in time and not even break a sweat over it.
I am a family favour, Alexi’s new problem.
Well done Camilla … did yourself a right good turn with this stupid fuck up. What the hell is he going to do with an ex-hooker who pushes drugs and sex for a living, and currently has nothing but the dirty clothes they took from me to her name? I have no value to a millionaire crook that has a whole city at his fingertips. Fifty grand is not easy to earn when your skills mean nothing to a man like him.
‘’My cousin offered to clear it on your behalf … fifty G. I refused, on account of the fact you won’t learn anything if people sweep in and fix all your mistakes so easily, and I am a huge believer in personal growth. Sophie is someone I care about, and I will honour that affection by taking you on. Don’t get me wrong, Miss Walters, you will pay off the debt and I aim to make you work for it. I have plans for someone with your entrepreneurial skill set.’’ He sounds almost smug, self-assured, and I really wish I could at least see his face.
This is complete torture, and my heart is pounding through my chest in a bid to escape my rib cage. I'm almost faint, not just from my physical discomfort either and I do not think I am going to like this guy or this deal. Gut instinct inkling at it.
‘‘What skill set exactly do you think I have?’’ I almost whisper it, showing my nervousness plainly, realising I am breaking all my own rules in how to deal with men and their intimidation acts. The thing is, this one is no act and I have no desire to push any sort of power angle right now. I am literally at his mercy for my own survival.
‘‘You are known for your ability to connect girls, parties, and product. You have a reputation as the go-to girl for anyone who has tastes and money to burn on fun; a name that had even reached my ears. I have a club in need of that kind of input and now I have you, it appears I was played a profitable hand.’’
I’m not sure I like the way he keeps referring to me as his property, even if he does own my soul for debt. I also hate that when he talks it’s completely controlled and steady as though discussing the weather and not a sordid plan of my future. It’s completely unnerving me.
‘‘You want your club to operate the same way my little outfit did?’’ I would laugh if it wasn’t so damn ridiculous, but I can tell he isn’t joking. He’s clever in a wolf-like kind of way and I can see the angle he hopes to play and what advantage he has in this, but I have never run a club or know anything about bars or booze sales. He’s insane if he thinks he can make me work off that much money in some sleazy strip bar. My blood runs cold at the thought of what exactly this offer will entail.
I don’t do sex for money anymore and I won’t go back to that means of survival at any cost. I would rather go take my chances with the fish and concrete boots than be made to fuck for hire again.
‘‘I think your talents and allure will give my club the edge and class I have been looking for, while still operating to my clientele’s tastes. It’s an exclusive bar, closed door policy with memberships and you’ll have accommodation above … I have an apartment on the top floor I rarely use, and it seems you need a home.’’ He’s annoyingly polite in his dialect, well-spoken and precise.
How the hell does he know so much about me? A few hours ago, I was not even on his radar and yet now he seems to know I have literally nowhere to live, on top of how I have been supporting myself for the last two years. I know better than to ask questions in this business and I can only assume he did his homework on me the second I became his baggage.
Men with money and means! It’s scary to know what a man with cash can dig up in no time at all.
‘’I need to try and collect my belongings from the place I skipped out on a few weeks back, I owe them money.’’
I’m standing staring at myself in the mirror, nerves eating away at me and fidgeting with my dress a little obsessively. It’s long, fitted, ivory, and very classy. A sleek, full-length, fishtailed number that looks great on my body, with my toned-down neutral face and minimal jewellery. Stomach in knots and anally checking my appearance like my life depends on it. Despite knowing, I look flawless. Déjà vu from the morning I met his mother and yet this is way worse. I’m terrified. “You look gorgeous, stop fretting.” Alexi’s voice comes from behind me and he sways to the side of me as he approaches. I stop him mid-step and lean my body against him gently. Backing myself against him. This is something I have been working on for a while now. Letting Alexi get behind me, touch me when standing there and leaning against him. He doesn’t object, just stands still recognising my attempt and lets me fall back against him gently. It’s stupid and weird, I guess, that it’
Soon as we get out the door Mico flanks me on one side with Alexi on the other and we are instantly surrounded by more Carrero security. Like a black wall that’s impenetrable and offers instant calm to my frazzled brain. Guiding us efficiently and shielding us from all angles. Overkill, but I guess I’m thankful for it.“What about the rest of her outfit?” Alexi asks as we walk briskly out of the building, the first to leave, but I can already hear chairs scraping as others depart, now we have. Some of them eager to walk away now they've found a resolution to this debacle.It’s weird how something that hung over us for months is tied up with a bow in one very brief sitting. I can’t get my head around the fact the threat is gone, and I no longer need to live under house arrest for any reason. A sudden lightness to my mood as the heavy weight of burden is lifted.“Most departed as soon as they heard their source of income w
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 gr
“Please,” I whisper it so quietly, begging him to stop questioning, to just take what I’m offering him. He surely understands my reasons. I close my eyes when he finally leans up and pulls one end of the strap and tugs it off my wrist slowly. The material sliding coldly and making me shiver. Eyes on what he’s doing, and I exhale, appeased that we are still going ahead even if a part of me dies a little inside. Like an idiot because I started this.I wait with bated breath for the dreaded feel of leather on my skin, but nothing happens. Anticipation makes me tetchy, heightening my senses to alarming levels and I notice every noise and sensation. I'm antsy and I can’t stand it anymore.Instead, the slide of the one around my neck startles me and I gulp in air, jumping slightly, realising he might start with leashing me and tying me after he gets a makeshift collar on me. A lot of men like Alexi like to have you leashed and tied up for full c
Teeth, tongues, lips, coming together of a rather aggressive game of tonsil tennis as his hands slide up my body and I wrap my legs around his waist. Moaning quietly with the way he ignites every nerve ending in me. Body tingling and on fire within seconds as I rub myself against the button and rough zip on his trousers, pushing myself into a fevered frenzy of longing.There is no real foreplay, just a sudden need to consummate our passion right here and now and I reach down and unbutton him so he can spring free from the confines of fabric. Alexi feels me out, probing my warmth with his fingers, finding me wet and willing and doesn’t waste time on formalities.He slides into me soon as he leans back over me and presses down on me as he does so, so our bodies fit snugly and muffle my moans of pleasure as they overtake me. Snug as a hand in a glove, he fills me up in the best kind of way, spreading that pulsating, gorgeously good feeling up through my pelvis and i
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 a
It’s not the expected outcome; grown woman turning to childish puppy dog mush, pawing at her angry husband like a devious minx; I find myself eye rolling at the lamest form of female manipulation there is.“You knew? You met her?” Accusatory tone as she tries to regain some footing. Alexi sighs loudly and I glance his way to see him turn and butt himself against the table, throwing me an unreadable look before he downs another drink and I try not to count how many that is. By the look of his sudden lack of trying, I guess he has been prone to scenes like this before, where his father had to steamroll in to defend him, and Alexi mentally goes off on a cruise and leaves him to it. I just stand here like an idiot, a third wheel and in no way wanting to witness this shit.“He’s my son. He has no secrets from me, he never did. Unlike you, he confides in me and comes to me often!” It’s putting her in her place and any other mother mi
The house is huge and beautiful like some sort of movie set for the lifestyle of the rich and famous. A towering white mansion set in a beautiful green manicured garden like some modern painting. Set in the sunny Hamptons, near the coast in a very picturesque area that comprises of nothing but huge grand houses, that just spew wealth. I can see why the Carreros reign supreme here. It’s like the real housewives of Orange County.Their home a show house for sure, completely devoid of lived in family life and we are let in by a maid who ushers us into a sitting room in what appears to be a deserted house until she runs off to find our host. Marble entranceway not dissimilar to that of Alexi’s nearby abode, huge sweeping staircase in a flawless neutral palette. It’s glossy magazine worthy with massive professional vases of floral arrangements dotted at key points on expensive furniture around the edges of the room.I find it odd that Alexi is being treate
“I can’t do this, Lexi.” My heart is hammering through my chest and I have checked my appearance three dozen times in the full-length mirror of the bedroom we stayed in for the rest of the night. Obsessed with my appearance as anxiety strangles the life out of me. Trying to focus on something I can control and getting a little preoccupied with its importance.We were busy most of last night, making up for our strained day with lots of gentle lovemaking, kissing and caresses, and I’m aglow with his attention today. Cheeks flushed, skin dewy, and a twinkling happiness in my eyes I’ve never seen before. I felt completely chilled when I got up this morning, well almost completely. That was until he dumped this little announcement on me that we’re having a cosy family brunch at Mummy’s house.Ugh. Last night was a repeat of the night he first made love to me, after the failed kidnapping at the club. Only without him
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