I wake up in my own bed. Well, once again ON my bed, with a throw over me, and yet again, it’s mid-
morning and I cannot remember anything after falling asleep. There’s no way I just slept right through
from five p.m., but as I check my bedside clock it flashes nine forty-three a.m. at me and I rub my eyes
in disbelief. I didn’t dream, no night terrors, no crazy shadows and monsters dragging me out of
slumber—a silent dreamless sleep that almost never happened before I came back here. This is
happening more and more lately and I feel refreshed from a full night’s rest.
I am still wearing yesterday’s dress, so Alexi must have brought me through and put me to bed at some
point. This is getting to be a habit for him, and I sit and ponder for a moment the fact that he didn’t even
try to wake me or do anything beyond let me sleep.
I still don’t trust him, but somehow, lately … I don’t hate him quite so much either. He keeps showing
me glimpses of another side, and as much as I keep telling myself that it’s a lie—an act, a way to get at
me—there’s a part of me that wants to believe in those parts of him as something real.
The same idiot girl who looked for love in a heart incapable of loving her … I am a fool.
I fell asleep on Alexi’s lap like some damn trusting moron; I don’t even know why I keep falling into this
cycle of caring for him.
Yesterday was exhausting, the fights in the car that we never finished, and the way he was with me
after Feral … which reminds me of my loss. It hits hard again with a thud to my stomach which I
immediately mentally block out and push away.
I learned the best way to deal with emotional pain is to push it away quickly, stop thinking about it and
focus on anything else until it stops hurting so much. That’s what I intend to do to forget that beast and
remove its little claws from my heart strings.
Alexi has left me feeling strange and disconnected somehow. Confused hopelessly over what he is to
me—who he is anymore.
He’s not the person he was before I left. He’s not the Alexi who made me crumble to dust anytime he
saw signs of my weakness or used them against me. I still have those same weaknesses, yet he hasn’t
dared to breach them again.
He hasn’t tried to control me or hurt me in any real physical way … except after Miami when he called
me a whore … but we were both calling each other names and it was a reaction to rejecting him. He
hasn’t forced a seduction on me, even when he went for a kiss and I said no.
When I said NO before I left, he would just use his hold over me to bend my will and catch me in his
trap of powerless submission. He could do it again so easily if he wanted to, and yet he hasn’t—Not
once.
He was genuinely hurt at my rejection that night, and instead of sadistic or manipulating, he walked off
with a wounded expression and left me alone.
He has kept to a boundary even if it’s on his terms …
No touching equates to no sex for him and not general day to day touchy-feely. So, in his mind, he’s
doing what I asked by not seducing me.
Stay away. Well, that one he just seems to ignore and is here more than not, just like last time. Not that
I can complain. His presence has helped me move on a little, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t
sometimes like him around.
Keeping this business between us? I guess him not seducing me is what he deems enough, and
maybe growing closer neutrally is a sign he really is trying to build a platonic relationship. I see hints of
it.
Like last night.
Alexi is multi-layered and complex and I don’t know what’s real anymore.
I keep waiting for the punishments, the cruelty and the blows to my heart with the cruel words of how
little I matter to him, and yet they don’t come. Not this time. It’s almost like he is afraid he may push me
to that point again where I held a gun to my head and willed my life to be over. He seems cautious
around me as though that night left a mark on him too.
It’s in the small things. The way he keeps avoiding standing directly behind me, he even apologised for
it that day in the office. He knows it’s something that makes me uncomfortable, and he actively tries not
to do it now. He bites his tongue most of the time instead of reacting to my anger, and when I flew for
him in Miami, he has never brought it up again that I dared to lay hands on him. I know it’s a huge
trigger for punishment, and yet, nothing.
Alexi has changed … when it comes to me anyway.
He told me he cared, he always cared and I don’t know whether I should believe him or not. He never
ever told me that before. He always made a point of making me believe the opposite, to wound me. It’s
like hurting me is the last thing on his agenda this time, even if his impatience and frustration get in the
way.
He said he read who I was wrong and that he thought it was all a lie …
Does he mean my tears, my reactions to what he did to me? Surely, he couldn’t think how I reacted in
the Hamptons to what he did was all just an Oscar worthy act to get under his skin. I was completely
powerless and he traumatised me.
But then …
If he saw only a manipulative woman known for her skills in working any angle to get her way,
combined with his deep-set mistrust of any mere mortal without the Carrero bloodline, then maybe he
didn’t really see me as genuine at all.
If the tables were turned, would I believe in someone I picked off the street, who had screwed a known
drug mule for fifty G, and then proceeded to try to manipulate him in the first days of meeting him? My
reputation for lies and deceit and cold-hearted opportunism preceded me. Alexi had to have known all
about my colourful existence, and the way I made my money and manipulated men effortlessly. I
thrived by seducing men and lying to get what I needed.
His guard was up before he even knew me. And who am I kidding? Manipulating and using him was
exactly the plan I had in mind for King Carrero. Fate is the one who whipped the rug out from under me
and made me show him the genuine someone else I could be, without even knowing why I was
choosing him to be the one. He didn’t know that coming into his world gave me a chance to be
someone else and I took it.
I just don’t know anymore. I will never be able to justify what he did to me—Even if it was misguided
and based on mistrust. He still crushed me, and when I told him how I really felt, he destroyed my
heart. I tried to tell him the truth and whether he dismissed it as a lie or just didn’t care, I will never
know.
If he had actually cared … it would never have gone the way it did.
Maybe this is just more manipulation, and telling me he does now is more about pulling me close and
keeping me obedient. He gets more of that when he plays nice, and maybe he has realised it is far
more effective than cruelty.
That sounds more like Alexi’s way of thinking … keep her sweet … keep her amicable … keep her
obedient. And we all know how much he loves control.
I push myself out of bed with a heavy sigh. The weight of heartache still lingering as a grey cloud over
me and I walk out into the lounge with slow steps. I just feel wretched today, a doom and gloom
hovering, and I cannot bear to think of that little furball. The ache in my chest from knowing he’s not out
there anymore is heavy and exhausting.
I jump, startled and insides leap to my mouth when I walk into the view of Alexi on the couch in his
workout hoody. The one with the sleeves cut away so it’s all tanned and tattooed arms and shoulders
on show and sweatpants as he works on his laptop. He has his feet crossed on the coffee table, face
down as he reads his screen, and I blink at him twice. Normally he is a rise early and fucks off kind of
guy, and yet he’s still here at a time he normally never is.
‘Hey you. You hungry?’ he asks, spotting me. As if this is the most normal thing in the world for us, and
I frown at him, not sure if I am still dreaming. There’s a weird air of domesticity in this scene that
doesn’t sit right with him here.
‘Not really. I just woke up.’ I answer groggily and pad over to the kitchen dodging looking at him, aware
I have bed hair, probably really smudgy makeup from sleeping in it, and yesterday’s wrinkled dress. He
doesn’t even seem to notice. I am the one who is overly aware of how shit I must look next to fresh and
fine over there.
‘There’re bagels up there if you want them. Mico picked them up for you.’ His steady voice follows me
to the counter and I avoid looking back knowing his eyes are on me. I can feel them as my body
prickles all over annoyingly.
‘Mico? Where has he been hiding lately? I feel like we have become two ships in the sea at night, that
never cross paths very often.’ I point out, glancing back and catch Alexi’s instant frown. A hint of
something in that face that makes me turn properly to stare at him, and I perch myself against the
cupboard behind me.
‘He’s busy.’ The closed tone and way he avoids my eye hit me immediately, and I instantly know what
he’s doing as a light bulb flips on in my head. He’s being evasive and guilty.
‘Oh my God! Are you keeping him away from me—because you’re jealous? You think there’s
something there?’ I laugh at the stupidity of it and Alexi at least has the grace to remain silent. He
flexes his neck trying to conceal a reaction, but I am slowly learning the tiny Carrero tells on this man.
He taps his thumb on the side of his laptop—a sign of stormy thoughts. Uncomfortable at being caught
out.
‘You’re unbelievable. Do you think I fancy him?’ I ask again, giggling at how childish he’s being, if that
truly is his reasoning, and get myself a dark look thrown my way; annoyed ‘drop it’ glares that make me
smile brightly with utter amusement.
‘You two seem awfully cosy. You know he’s engaged right?’ An angry tone, veiled in the calm slick
voice and I burst out full-on laughing at him. He’s only cementing my suspicion, even if he cannot admit
it.
‘You ARE jealous. Oh, baby,’ I chuckle. Cute voice pandering to him and turn to fill the kettle, smug and
amused at something so ridiculous. He really is a huge man-child sometimes.
‘I’m not jealous—he’s busy,’ He repeats sternly, but I just shake my head and carry on with what I am
doing. Pulling a mug over and getting the tea bags out of the cupboard.
‘Sure he is … busy doing things you tell him to do, and lately I’m guessing all of those errands are
away from here, and me. You’re so transparent.’ I answer smugly and turn to boil the kettle.
‘You’re overthinking it,’ he snaps back moodily, annoyed because I have caught onto his little naughty
boy antics.
‘I happen to like his girlfriend. She suits him, and I also have no feelings there whatsoever… other than
friendship. He doesn’t do it for me Carrero. He’s hot sure, but not my kind of hot.’ I am lapping it up,
completely entertained that under all that intimidating bossy command, he is still an insecure little
control freak who hates his toys giving anyone else the attention he demands. It’s strangely adorable.
‘Whatever.’ He churns out childishly and I turn and give him my brightest smile. My whole mood a hell
of a lot lighter now I’m teasing him mercilessly.
‘You think I like him more than you?’ I throw a mock pouted lip, and with the baby voice and sarcastic
tone, he just throws me a deadpan, irritated stare.
He’s very annoyed!
‘I don’t care,’ he retorts and goes back to typing, only harder and pounding the keys a little
aggressively, and that furrowed brow is practically touching his chin.
‘That’s why you have removed him … Right?’ I turn and butt my arse against the counter again and
cross my arms over my bust as I wait for my hot water, picking him apart intensely, and he shifts
uneasily in his seat.
‘FINE … He’s busy because you two seem to be a little too buddy buddy, and I … he has a girlfriend!
One I happen to like, a lot. I’m making sure it stays that way.’ Alexi is trying to cover his arse and make
this about protecting his cousin, but he’s not actually very convincing.
‘I don’t want him and I can tell the feeling is mutual; If you are worried that I have a softer spot for him
than you … Maybe I did … but maybe I don’t anymore! Stop hiding your cousin in fear I will run off with
him, Alexi!’
I sigh honestly, losing the fun in poking him while he looks sullen, and I don’t want to fight. If all this of
late is him trying to be a better human towards me then maybe I should return the favour. He was my
rock last night and I need to at least respect that—Just this once.
‘I told you, I don’t care,’ he repeats sternly, refusing to back down, and it annoys me a little. A reminder
of his favourite way to hurt me in the past and I narrow my gaze at him.
‘You don’t care if I like you?’ I prod, not letting this go because he started something in his car, and we
never actually got this out between us. A swirling tension in my lower belly which warns me to put it to
bed, but he has stoked my fire now.
Alexi sighs and closes his laptop, as though he has lost the willpower to keep doing what he’s doing,
and slides it onto the seat beside him instead, pulling his feet back and landing them on the floor so he
can lean forward and locks his eyes on me.
He sighs again; rubbing his palms together distractedly and just seems to stare at me for the longest
time.
‘You wanna talk? … Let’s talk. It’s obvious there is something you want to say, or ask me, and I’m right
here! I won’t lie to you. Floor’s yours, London. Let’s get this out between us.’ He is all serious now.
Eyes on mine, tone husky and genuine, and his expression is that of his softer side. A complete
transformation of a bad mood to frank and open and it makes me shit myself. Fear moving in with an
increase in heart rate and my palms get instantly clammy.
I stare right back, and even though I have a million things I have stored up to say to this man for the
past few months, I have no courage or the strength to be told some home truths. Not while my heart is
already fragile and in pain.
When faced with him willing to be honest with me … I am too scared to say the things I need to say, or
ask him the three things I have always wanted to know.
Did you care when you were hurting me? Did I ever really matter to you? Why did you honestly bring
me back?
I’m scared to ask them because if I do, his answer can still wound me. Despite telling myself a million
times I feel nothing for this man … I know it’s a lie I cannot keep hiding behind. I still care and it still
matters to me if he ever did.
My voice stays silent and I lose all confidence in how this is playing out. Looking to the floor uneasily
and I start picking at my acrylic thumbnail.
‘Nope … nothing. It’s all in your head.’ I swallow hard, my heart hammering as feint moves across my
body, and I am instantly lightheaded with the fear of being caught in his direct headlights. My hands
shake badly and I turn away to deal with my tea now the kettle has boiled and clicked to off. Glad of the
excuse to look away and hide the blush of colour creeping up my cheeks, or the way my bottom lip
trembles so badly I have to bite on it.
I do care.
I still love him.
Fuck.
He sighs heavily and the noise of the seat as he either shifts in it or gets up seems to echo loudly in the
sudden deathly silence. Alexi seems agitated and I turn and catch him gathering up his papers on the
table and his laptop haphazardly. Looking annoyed with tight facial muscles and a stormy look in his
eye.
‘I have to go out … I’ll be back later to change for a dinner, but I won’t be around today.’ He sounds
how I feel - deflated and weird.
He avoids my eye and there’s a moment of heavy awkwardness between us.
‘Have fun.’ I answer emptily with a fake brightness and get a fake smile from him in response.
Both of us play-acting and I don’t even know why.
‘Stay out of trouble.’ It’s emotionless and cool, as I would expect from him. He doesn’t wait for an
answer, just heads to the door and leaves quickly, as though he can’t wait to get away from me
suddenly.
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