Chapter 40


    I try my hardest to y it cool through an excruciating dinner with upper ss gangsters. It’s obvious


    that’s what they are, yet everyone is living the fake normal life out here and it’s all behind closed doors.


    There are smiles and polite conversation about their monotonously boring lives and over-primped


    wives as they guzzle down overly priced food and act like they like their presentpany.


    We are sat in one of this town’s most prestigious restaurants, surrounded by opulent settings and a


    sparkling chandelier over my head that is practically blinding us with light. A group of porky men with


    way too much cologne and wives that have had to be tied into their frocks to hold in the


    overindulgence. A lot of jewellery on disy, so much so the dazzle has given me a headache and the


    men can’t seem to keep their bulging eyes off my cleavage.


    Seems Alexi isn’t impressed with my choice of outfit and I did dress to just piss him off. He said


    conservative, yet he wants me to bend over and get fucked right after, so I dressed for the part. Ex-


    hooker turned mistress—in a very tight, low, and revealing little number that clings to every curve and


    stops mid-thigh. Cleavage popping, harlot red like my hair andced up so tight at the back that it’s


    almost defying gravity in keeping my breasts covered.


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    I know I am rebelling and I will probably regret this decision very soon with the way he keeps ring at


    me, but I should embrace the fact that life with Alexi Carrero is going to kill me one way or the other


    and at least if I stop trying to obey I will have some control over the inevitability.


    He might choke me through sex this time and not let up until I no longer respond. It would be a blessing


    in disguise.


    I sip on my fourth ss of red in a bid to drown out the mundanepany and fuel my inner bravado. I


    feel tipsy and almost start to enjoy the waves of hostilitying my way.


    ‘‘You’re a very beautiful asset.’’ One of the suits'' voice waves my way and a moustache covered smile


    follows, eyes firmly locked on my tits as I zone back into the conversation. His dowdy grey-haired wife


    is looking at me as though she wants to ram her shrimp fork into my eyeball and I smile politely. I’m


    guessing he asked Alexi if I was his wife and got his bog-standard reply of ‘’Hostess to my exclusive


    club.’’ He would never admit to having anything that remotely constitutes some sort of connection to a


    woman, that might be mistaken as a rtionship.


    ‘’Thank you, I do try. Alexi likes me to shine when he shows me off.’’ I add with charm, butced in


    sarcasm and get that cool set of greys thrown my way with an evil glint of displeasure. Same look this


    dress got me from the moment he took my jacket off as we started to sit at our table and saw it.


    Surrounded by eyes waiting to pounce on him, he couldn’t react, and he’s been simmering ever since.


    He’s been very charming to his guests all night, oozing confidence and smiles. I can see why he never


    smiles much at the club. It’s all he does when faced publicly with important people, and he must get


    tired with the pretence.


    He seemspletely at home among the upper ss all idly chit chatting and drinking expensive


    booze in elegant surroundings that use way too much gold in their decorating. Practically every


    inanimate object is shiny yellow metal.


    Even with his tattoos on show that should ruin the look of an elegant businessman, somehow, he just


    seems to fit in all the elegance of the morous setting. Alexi is a thug who can pull off ss. It’s


    disconcerting, but I guess being raised in a billionaire family entrenched with generations of mobsters it


    gets inbred. He can sit confidently in a plush red padded chair and use an array of cutlery like a


    pampered pro.


    I have never really beenfortable around it, but I learned to y the part to fit in. High ss clientele


    is generous, and it’s a lot less work for maximum profit than scraping the streets for enough to eat. I


    learned young that to seed in more than survival you had to up your ss and attract a better


    calibre of people.


    Saying that, the rich tend to be way more devious and perverted with their requests, due to the fact


    they always get what they want and aren’t afraid to demand it. With moneyes a whole other world


    of depravity. Upping my game just opened me up to a whole new level of pain. I got out of the game as


    soon as I could and had enough money behind me to start fresh, reinvent myself and find another


    means to make money.


    Sex sells, it always does, and so I knew to get anywhere I had to keep it a part of my arsenal. I just


    didn’t want to be the vessel that was used anymore and devised my own little brood of girls to open


    their legs instead.


    I was done being used, beaten and controlled and the night Rick put me in the hospital gave me my


    chance to take off and never go back. Who knew undergoing surgery to save my life and fix the


    damage he inflicted would open a passageway of escape and give me enough freedom to run as fast


    as I could.


    I could have killed myself leaving the hospital in the state I was in, and the looks I got boarding a train


    in a bloody hospital gown with a ck bag in my hands with all my worldly possession didn’t deter me. I


    was neen, knowing my life was going one way if I didn’t get out and I haven’t stopped running


    since.


    I don’t know what it’s like to ever stop looking over my shoulder and I didn’t know what safe felt like


    until Alexi, which ispletely bizarre. Always at the back of my mind is the thought that Rick might


    one day find me, but somehow, I don’t think he would dare cross Carrero in a bid to get at me.


    ‘’Do you want to dance?’’ I watch as the gentleman to my left asks his wife and holds out his arm. They


    are probably the sweetest couple at the table, and he is the only one, minus Alexi, whose eyes haven’t


    been glued to my bodice all through dinner. He takes his wife and helps her out of her chair so very


    carefully, as though she is a precious gem and I can’t help but watch with envious fascination. The way


    he obviously still worships the woman, even with her wrinkles and grey hairs, the podgy midriff in a gold


    sequin dress and aged skin.


    He’s no catch himself, in histe fifties or more, portly and short, but she’s looking at him like he is a


    complete Adonis and the infatuation is evident. If I was another girl I would go as far as saying it’s cute


    in a way, wholesome if you liked that kind of thing. I have no idea why it makes me feel wretched to


    watch them, welling up inside and a lump catching in my throat that makes my stomach ache.


    I nce away with a show of indifference and catch Carrero’s eyes on me, watching me like a hawk,


    always watching for signs of my weakness, and he smirks. The rising of the pair give way to more


    couples getting up to head to the ballroom floor and it’s not long before Alexi and I are left alone, and


    he looks like he has no intention of dancing with me. He’s been cold, more so than normal, and I know


    it’s because my outright defiance is brewing in that brain of his. Probably thinking up a heinous


    punishment suitable for the crime and I sigh at him with open irritation.


    ‘‘What is it? Why are you staring at me?’’ I wish he was invested in my cleavage, but that’s not what


    this is, he’s in thinking mode and something devious is going on in that brain.


    ‘‘Is that what you long for?’’ He nods after the couples on the floor and I blink at him in confusion.


    ‘‘What are you talking about? A life here in the Hamptons with some old crusty man pawing at me? No


    thank you.’’ I have way more self-respect than to be a trophy wife to some wrinkly old man for his


    money. I’d rather make my own.


    Alexiughs and shifts to lean back in his chair lifting his dessert spoon and tapping it annoyingly on


    the surface.


    ‘’The love-sick man … adoring you and growing old together?’’ If he could have made that question any


    more steeped in sarcasm and disdain he would have, but it’s weighty as it is. I hate that he caught me


    watching them and my face colours with heat that maybe for a moment deep down I got a pang of what


    that could be like, to have someone love me … but I’m not stupid enough to ever want it or believe in it.


    I have seen the real face of men my whole life, it’s all just masks and fairy tales and the reality is a dark


    and cruel result.


    The reality is men like Alexi and their belief that women are just objects they can do whatever they


    want to. His idea of love is ownership and punishment when you disobey.


    ‘‘I gave up on that fancy a long time ago. I’m a realist. I’m damaged goods and decent men, if they


    even exist, avoid women like me as though we are diseased. We are good for sexual use but nothing


    more.’’ I lift my wine and take a drink, trying to keep that enchanting smile in ce while we are so


    public, but Alexi leans into me, dropping his spoon and props his elbow on the table so he cages me in.


    That good old feeling of ustrophobia washes over me. He has this down to a fine art form now.


    ‘’So what do you long for, London?’’ He looks decidedly predator tonight and I recoil a little inside, wary


    of Carrero fishing for information. I have fallen into that trap way too many times.


    ‘‘I long for a tall, dark, sexy and handsome man … To stop fucking calling me stupid pet names!’’ I bite


    back at him, raising my chin and give him a good old raised eyebrow of attitude before sitting back to


    cradle my ss. Alexiughs under his breath and stays exactly where he is. Not fazed by my anger


    but revelling in it instead.


    ‘’Let’s dance, we can continue this conversation out there.’’ He doesn’t give me a chance to refuse, just


    grabs me, in the way he does by my arm, and yanks me with him to stand, so I have zero control of my


    limbs.