Chapter 3

I am not about to let Carrero think that I am a woman you leave waiting around on you like some desperado, hanging on his presence. When I get up to the apartment, I get changed into my silk nightdress and robe and start getting ready for bed. My sleeping pattern dictates that I won't pass out until after four when I would normally be up here, but he doesn't need to know that, and I am putting my plan B into action. I strip off my makeup and re-apply the barely there, going to bed, yet still sexy look. Sitting at my vanity and brushing out my hair before I pile it on top of my head in a carefree messy bun that takes a lot of finesse and skill. If he thought he had an easy woman to deal with, then he doesn't know me or what he is about to come up against. I have a lot to learn about what makes him tick and a lot of tells to identify to work out the mechanics of this one, but the same goes for him. If he thinks I am a regular girl with easy to read attributes, then he has another thing coming. I never do anything just for the hell of it—I always have a plan. My new plan is to find how he ticks and use it to my advantage. Fundamentally, most men work on the same principles, just with varying degrees of manipulation applied. If I find his buttons to push, then I will have him eating out of my palms before long. Or from between my thighs. *** After an hour of sipping three glasses of Chardonnay, and sick to death of picking my goddamn acrylic nails, I get up in a strop and throw the bottle in the open-plan kitchen that spans a whole L shape in the corner of the apartment. Walking past the sunken lounge area and his black leather sofa, I curse him out loudly, boiling inside with the nerve of him. I cannot abide people who leave you hanging around like your time isn't worth shit to them. Making me wait for an age and still no goddamn sign of him. Bloody arsehole! I cage towards the door of my bedroom angrily as I am alerted to the main apartment door beeping with someone accessing the hand scanner on the other side and spin on my heel. Glaring furiously that he really thinks leaving me waiting on him for an hour is acceptable, and then completely baulk as he strolls in casually with some blonde bimbo on his arm. Fury finding a path from my toes and coursing through every vein in my body. Internal rage spiking at the sight of this bull shit. She is pouting and fluttering his way like an amateur and I swear it's so cringey it's almost puke worthy. I have to curb the urge to outright laugh at him and his complete balls for bringing some whore up here after having me hanging about like a dick head for the best part of the evening. She looks cheap and nasty in a tacky red dress that leaves very little to the imagination, and I literally blink at the absolute nerve of the man. He could have had caviar and steak, and I was handing it to him on a plate—something that I don't just do for any man, but instead he brought home some pop in the microwave cardboard meal. I try to conceal my rage by smiling airily as our eyes lock across the room, and he smiles right back with an air of ''problem?'' That I can definitely not miss. I feel like this is some sort of test or maybe he gets a kick out of goading people. If he is trying to get under my skin, he is about to learn I have claws. It's the first time I have seen him smile properly, all white straight teeth and annoyingly handsome. It practically changes his whole face from good looking gangster too, and I just curse him out even more. Feeling completely engulfed with burning fury bristling in my bones. I start tapping my fingernails on my hip as I slide into a casual pose and rest my shoulder against my doorway in an act of nonchalance. I won't let him see that he has got to me in any way, shape or form. Strike one to you, arsehole. ''Go wait for me in my room.'' He commands at her, not even looking her way, never breaking eye contact with me and I swear I catch a glimpse of something in those greys of his; a hint of devious games at play. Tramp scuttles off like a good little puppy without a mutter, straight to his bedroom door, and slinks inside before throwing me a catty ''hands off!'' look that makes me smile harder. A touch salaciously. Are you really trying to show me who's boss? I will snap you like a twig, kitten. Do not test me, bitch. ''Didn't think you were going to show, so I'm heading to bed, I'm tired.'' I push myself off and turn to finish my walk into my bedroom with a sway, adamant I am not going to be some weak little ''run after'' like he seems to have up here with him, and I am not about to let it slide that he made me wait. ''Come … have a drink with me.'' He doesn't even wait for my refusal; just walks off towards the kitchen completely dismissing what I said and starts pulling out glasses and bottles from the mini bar we keep stocked in here. I seriously consider saying no, and eye up the bedroom behind me with a moment of doubt. I know I shouldn't start off this little arrangement on the wrong foot, but something tells me bringing his good-time girl up here after making me wait this long was more of a power play and a message than anything. Carrero is a devious one, and he's trying to put me in my place. I really do toil over whether I should suck it up and play nice or tell him where to get off. Stuck for a moment in deciding what to do. I have always been the game player and never had to second guess my actions because I am being played; this is all new for me and has me doubting my own decisions. ''Sure … Whatever. Something stronger than wine. I have had my fill tonight and I could do with a nightcap.'' I cross the floor, letting my robe fall loose so it reveals all moulded lace and definite peeking of nipples through the thin material, because I am not about to go easy on him when he just threw down a gauntlet at me. I may be backing down and having a drink, but I will play it my way, in a semi-transparent negligee and lack of underwear. I always have a plan. I slide onto the couch in the middle, so that wherever he chooses to sit he is going to be near me and watch that strong back and shoulders flexing as he makes drinks silently. He's discarded his jacket somewhere and is still in a white shirt and black trousers, which are a little fitted to his mass form and completely bewitching. He seems completely comfortable in this space and knows where everything is, so I assume he spends more time here than he initially let on. Alexi wanders back casually, stopping to hand me a glass of brown liquid and ice, and sits about three feet away from me, stretching his legs out to meet the square glass coffee table that nestles in the centre and gets comfy. He scans me briefly with those wolfish eyes and makes no comment on my inappropriate attire. ''How are you settling into the apartment?'' He looks at me with a closed off expression, confident in just taking over this space and takes a drink, resting his arm along the back of the couch so his fingers are almost level with my shoulder. Nothing in his manner to suggest he even cares that I might be annoyed with him. ''Completely at home and settled. I'm someone who is used to adapting to new surroundings quickly, and you have good taste, it's a very nice apartment.'' I cross my legs letting my peach coloured nightwear slide up as I do so, and don't bother fixing it; my robe falling completely open. I have a nice figure and naturally large bust and I have no doubt that he is not completely immune to me and catch a flicker of appreciation cross that squared face briefly. ''Good; it's handy having you staying over the bar, especially once this place starts to change and you can be close by if need be. I aim to stick around to see this done over the next couple of months and I've cleared my schedule to be here. Lucie understands that things are changing; he won't be an issue anymore.'' He takes another drink, and this time I follow suit and almost choke on extremely potent Brandy. It's never been a drink I enjoy and just reminds me of someone I would rather forget; that stench was all that ever oozed from him, and when he drank a lot of it his perversions swayed into the sadistic. I shiver as I push the memories away and focus back on the here and now. ''So, are you going to be more specific in what I am here to do, apart from help design your club and find you sexual objects for misuse?'' I get straight to the point bluntly, still simmering with annoyance and losing that edge of seductive charm I'm normally oozing. He smiles at that, a small amused smile and tiny laugh into his glass as he drinks it down. I don't know what's so funny and he just irks me more. ''You're my hostess, my go-to girl. You will be the one that makes sure the evenings go to plan and everyone is catered to. That's what you excelled at before and I want it done here. Keep my clients happy, and the money will start rolling in.'' He leans back and relaxes into looking my way once more. Scrutinising me, sizing me up and I can see it. Not hiding it at all. ''So, I am not expected to join in the sex sessions then? Perform favours for your benefit?'' I raise a brow haughtily with sarcasm, my stomach churning with apprehension, making it clear I am in no way about to agree to that shit regardless of my past, and he shakes his head. Thankfully, as it's a deal breaker for me and I want to make that clear from the get-go. I'm an ex- hooker, not a current one and never will be again. ''As far as my clients will be aware, you belong to me. They won't touch what's mine; you do your job and nothing else.'' Said like he means it, and I can't help the small weird warm feeling rising in my stomach at those words and shake them away quickly. It's not pleasant, a reminiscent 'you belong to me' running through my mind and push it away. ''So, I belong to you now? In name or in duties too, and what does that ownership mean for me exactly?'' I always learned if you do not ask then you will never know, and I want all my cards on the table before I get any further into this with him. It sounds like this is a deal with benefits, but his statement downstairs contradicts that. These kinds of men have different meanings of ownership. Alexi pauses and looks down into his glass as he swirls the ice, considering my question it seems and slides his drink down on the table between his feet, before pushing it away and returning to a casual pose. ''It means exactly what it sounds like … You belong to me and while I own your ass, you live here, work for me, and don't do anything without my permission. It's that simple.'' He gives nothing away with tone or expression and I inhale slowly, trying to calm my internal rattled pounding nerves. I raise both brows this time and give him a look that just says I am not exactly happy with this little statement, blanching at the idea that he thinks he can ask this of me. I don't care if he saved my bacon— he wants to control me and with nothing to reward me in return. It's one thing to mark you as off the market for other men if he's screwing you, but another thing entirely to get a virgin's life handed to you. ''Do you own more than my arse? What about my own needs? What if I want to sample a little playtime?'' I gesture to his room, indicating his own little fun waiting in there, annoyed that he thinks he can rule who I fuck even if I don't have any current toy boys. Who's to say I won't take a fancy to one of his clientele? Someone a little more open to me than he seems to be. I will not stop looking at the bigger picture, and if a better deal comes along to get me out of this mess then I will pounce on it. He's not sounding like the fun I thought he was going to be. ''Not in my apartment, or on my time, which is now all of yours. You can do what you want to do when you are no longer owned by me but in the meantime being mine means exactly that. Until your debt is clear … every single piece of you belongs to me.'' The way he looks deep into my soul tells me that he isn't messing around with this. I push down the urge to laugh at his ridiculousness, but instead, I keep my cool adjusting how I am sitting to show more leg and cleavage and plaster on a sexy smile of indifference. Ignoring the tension building in the air and the hint of atmosphere because this is going in a direction I am not happy with. ''You said you don't want to have sex with me, but yet, it sounds like you're shelving me as yours regardless. I'm not playing ball! You can't tell me who I can screw while I am to live a celibate life in a room next to you banging God knows who.'' Anger erupts, even though I am trying to keep my cool, and the edge to my snappy tone makes him narrow his gaze on me. He seems to instantly become a lot more intimidating with practically zero change in his face. ''Yes, I can. In this business what you do reflects on me. You're being given responsibility and access to powerful people and who you fuck means a hell of a lot more than you realise. Keep your panties up and your legs closed, or I will show you a side of me you won't like.'' It's a veiled threat all right. Calm, cold and precise. He's not playing around, but my inner fire is not about to go down without a fight. I hate people thinking they can control me in any way. I didn't fight my way out of England and run thousands of miles to go back to that life, and I sure as hell didn't scrape by on the streets to get myself a new master and pimp. He ignites my fiery rage and my body instantly pinks up with the way my blood boils to the surface of my very pale skin. I have a redheads colouring, even with a scattering of freckles, and I hate that when I get mad it's literally visible on every part of me. ''I sell sex, yet I'm not allowed to have any. I'm not a fucking nun.'' I snap at him loudly and uncross my legs as I slam my glass on the table too. ''No, you're not. You're Alexi Carrero's property and that means something. Get used to the idea, it's not changing anytime soon, it's not negotiable in any way shape or form. Let's call it small print in your Fifty-grand contract.'' That smart-arse tone and the way he looks at me like a smug prick makes me want to bash him in the face with his bloody glass. I swear I think I might hate him already; eyes as empty as I suddenly feel, my heart pounding in my ribcage as I try to control every inch of desire to tell him to go fuck himself. I would rather be in a river than this. ''I don't think I like you as much as I thought I might. You're no fun and you have serious control issues.'' I start to get up slowly and deliberately, telling myself to walk away before I erupt and make this worse. I need space to calm down and think this through before I throw in one of my Princess tantrums and earn an enemy for life. Getting up fully I turn to leave, but he's fast, catches my wrist and tugs me down beside him harshly, so I practically fall on top of him my cleavage almost bursting out of my negligee with the way the fabric has been pulled tight. It's almost under his nose with how close we are. ''I don't care if you like me. You will do as I tell you and suck it up, Sweetheart. Otherwise, you and I will have a lot of problems. This sassy whore act is not interesting in any way and I really have no desire to fuck you. I want to use you for your skill, make money and not deal with any female drama in the process. I don't normally hire women for prominent roles so this is a learning curve and you will quickly learn your place, what to do and when to nod and say "yes sir"' Alexi runs a finger down my throat as he stares at me cruelly, almost nose to nose, my chest heaving with my struggling breath as I hold it. His thumb traces over the curve of my left breast intrusively, which is bulging out at him. Tingles burn my skin with his touch, and despite myself and how much hatred I have oozing his way right now my knees press together in response and my inner body spikes with heat. I know what he's doing, it's all mind games and putting me in my place. It's all about being my master and calling the shots, so I steel myself and bite my inner lip to stop any outward reactions or involuntary expressions that he is looking for and just scowl at him instead. Holding my body taut and stiff so he gets the vibe I want him to get his fucking hands off me. ''Like I said … Control issues!'' I grit my teeth at him and yank my wrist free as I glare at the smirk he has going on. He seems unfazed as I disentangle myself from him and pull away to straighten my dress. Yanking it so my cleavage nestles back in the lace, where it belongs. Alexi gets up to tower over me and just seems completely amused and unruffled. ''You have no idea how much I like control. Keep it up London, and I might rethink fucking you just to show you how much I can make you not like me.'' He smiles fully this time, sinister in that tone, his eyes paling out with a hint of anger and a lot of edge that tells me it's not an empty threat. My whole body runs cold as a wave of unease floods me and my anger simmers cowardly. I got under his skin anyway and yet my heart fluttering in my chest and limbs tightening are more of an anxiety related reaction than anything else. I feel a little sick that maybe I am out of my depth where he is concerned. I know better than anyone that men can make sex a cruel act of torture. I should know better than to play with fire. He seems like he would be good at making sex horrendous. ''Maybe I should leave you to your drink and go to bed. You have someone waiting after all.'' I answer him nervously, hating that he's catching hints of my fear, but I have never had to navigate someone like him, who sends so many conflicting signals. Gentleman and smooth player to brimming danger with the possibility of demonic things. I make another move to leave but like before, he isn't done with me and stands in my way, catching me by the arm as he spins me back to him. Almost nose to nose as he leans in fully to meet my height. ''I'm not your hero or someone who wants to be your friend or lover. This arrangement was not my doing, but I will make the most of any advantages that fall in my lap. The sooner you learn to nod, smile and obey me, the better it will be for both of us. You represent me now and therefore all you do will be controlled by me! Learn when to shut your mouth and play nice.'' The deliverance is that low psychotic tone I saw in Lucie's office. I swallow hard and try like crazy to stand taller, lifting my chin defiantly, despite my limbs turning to jelly. Backing down to monsters is not the way to play the game. You have to show strength, or they will walk all over you and pound you into the ground. I have dealt with evil many times before, I just need to remind myself this one shields it with charm and great bone structure, but he's no different to other men. I have to challenge his authority over me and not let him grind me down into the dust. Do not show weakness. ''My name is Camilla, not London. I can follow orders, thanks for clearing up that little debacle for me; now I know what line there is and what not to cross I won't waste my time or yours playing games. Enjoy your night Alexi, I am going to bed.'' I say it forcefully, voice strong and hiding any hints of a wobble but my flushed skin tells a different story and the heat in my cheeks tells me I am probably blushing crazily. I can't hide my reaction from his eagle eyes. There's a moment of pause as he just looks at me and I wish I knew what was going on in that sharp head. I think that's what unnerves me the most. His brain is a closed and locked room while most men are predictable and readable in small ways. Alexi has a poker face that has been honed to expert levels and those eyes tell you nothing at all about the inner workings of his mind. Empty palest grey and completely devoid of human emotion. ''I want you down at my office for nine a.m. We start going over the designs and brainstorming over the problem with finding escorts on a permanent basis and working out other fine details. From here on in you can call me Mr Carrero, and you can try opting for longer dresses and keep your tits under wraps when I am around.'' He yanks my robe closed in front of me harshly and I automatically catch the fabric and pull it tighter in a bid to feel more secure. Scalded, seething and cursing that this went the whole opposite way to how I imagined it would. I thought getting under his skin was going to be a piece of cake, but I underestimated him. Carrero is a hard brick wall, and I am not even close to knowing him well enough to lever into any weak spots. If I even want to anymore. All my instincts are saying to never poke the bear and leave it well alone. ''Yes sir!'' I grit through my teeth sarcastically, putting my all into those two words and try not to glare at that stubborn deadpan face as he steps away from me with a furrowed brow. ''That's more like it. There might be hope for you yet. I like women who know their place in my world.'' He smirks devilishly and then brushes past me with a sideways glance, dismissing me and his mood in a spookily fast moment. I swear punching him in the throat would make me feel a whole lot better but instead, I just start counting in my head and try hard not to erupt at him. ''I've heard … On their knees, gagged and bound while Master has his fun!'' I slur dryly, unable to just stop that mouth of mine when I ought to know better. It got me many a backhanded slap or punch in the mouth when I was younger, and I don't know for sure that he isn't a man who won't stoop to that level of control. I move to walk to my own room hoping that the padded crap on his walls has an actual purpose for more than aesthetics in his mostly black bedroom. I had thought it weird at first but now I'm thinking it's more than art. Muffling the screams of his victims nonetheless, and I should be running for my room and locking the bloody door. ''Sometimes!'' He smirks and strolls off casually, like he owns the world before he opens the door to his dark hole and disappears inside to go do whatever to that poor alternative to what he could have had. If I had a heart, I might even feel sorry for her, but instead, I am thanking my lucky stars that he didn't actually make me his victim for a night. I have seriously underestimated him. Part of me wonders if maybe I did have a lucky escape. I've never been into BDSM or bondage, and the thought of letting someone like him tie me up and possess me cruelly makes my blood run cold. I was eleven years old the first time my mother held me down and let a man use my body for his own dirty need so she could feed her own junkie habit. I cried, screamed and threw up in my own mouth, and yet they never let me loose until he was done with me and the damage was irreversible to my fragile mind. I became a tool for her to get her fix and my own worth and sanity played second fiddle. I'm glad the stupid bitch overdosed when I was fifteen but it didn't save me from the hands of her pimp boyfriend for the years that followed or the repeated way he would hold me down, tie me up and force me to take what he could give in any cruel way he wanted. I don't intend to ever let myself be put back in a situation where I can't have some say or some control ever again. I would rather kill myself than endure letting any man ever take me back into a place where I was powerless to save myself. I won't be a toy to be poked, bruised, whipped, and hurt anymore. If Carrero is a man that requires that from the women he sleeps with, then maybe I should just focus on work and money and forget this dumb idea about manipulating him for my own ends. He's hot, sexy, yet dangerous, and that makes an alluring package overall. He's not like most men and the added little S&M thing is not a turn on for me—it's a deterrent that changes everything. Men with kinks and money are used to getting what they want, and I have no longing to become another controlled pussy for hire when they are notorious for pushing the boundaries as far as they can with no fear of consequences. I spent years trying to run free from that life and I won't become his piece of abused arse for anyone. Let him beat and gag his cheap sluts. I will stay the hell away from that and do what he wants me to do. Provide fucks, fun, smiles and product, and make a lot of money.