Chapter 351

I try to slap his arse again, but he dumps me on my feet as soon as the lift doors shut, locking us in here; I totter unsteadily and slam a palm to the wall to steady myself and I’m momentarily stunned as I try to get my bearings. The silver steel box-like shell of a lift and the sudden release leaves me woozy; the room spins a little, and it shuts me up as that awful creeping cold washes over me and turns my stomach inside out. He pulls me to face him and thrusts my shoes at me harshly.

“We can dance in circles, insult each other, make threats, throw things, fight and have ourselves some major headache inducing drama. We both know that ends up with me coming after you, saving your ass and then we kiss and make up … or … do as your fucking told, and I will take you somewhere nice for lunch after. Good girls get rewards.” Alexi moves back out of range of my shoes in case I make a swing for him, but I just glare hatefully. Despising that tiny hint of a smirk and the way he’s eyeing me up, completely amused at my discomfort.

“Why are you such a tosser?” I’m shell shocked. Feeling like he just dragged me through an emotional bush and I just blink at him bewildered. My brain leaving my body somehow like I’m not really here.

“Why are you such a nightmare at times?”

Despite everything I’m feeling and fighting him on, his words wound me. Like a knife right in my heart.

“Fuck you. I don’t even want to go to your stupid Casino, anyway.” I sulk, turning away from him to the left so I face the doors and not him, trying to compose the rush of three thousand conflicting feelings pulling me apart inside. Alexi pulls me back to him again, annoyingly easily, stronger than I will ever be, a hand on my upper arm snugly.

“Our casino, Mrs Carrero.” It’s a smug, sarcastic little smile and eyebrow raise, and it just ignites my fury once more. That sense of suffocation that turns all my sanity switches to off.

“Don’t call me that, you utter wanker.” I impulsively swing a shoe at him, which he dodges expertly before breaking into a laugh and loses all forms of aggression. Not really seeing my tear-filled eyes or hearing the subtle sniff as I catch my misery from breaking through. Blind to everything except my fury, which seems to be amusing him.

He has no concept of how much this is fucking me up inside. Everything feels different and shaky and suddenly all trust and security are gone. I feel alone all over again. Trapped in a box with no way out and limited oxygen that’s running out. Alexi is dismissing my behaviour as me being combative and grumpy and to him, it’s banter, humour. Whatever the fuck he is reading it as, and he is acting accordingly. For once his great skills at reading people is failing him, well, not that I’m surprised. He told me I’m the one person in the world he finds impossible to read. My masks are as effective as his.

“Get used to it. It’s your new title.” He smiles properly, a twinkle in his eye and that Hollywood finest dazzling his whites at me. It just leaves me cold.

“Don’t make me hurt you. This isn’t funny, Alexi.” It’s a raw moment of strained emotion as he appears more amused by the second and he pulls a shoe out of my hand and drops it on the floor in front of me, motioning to put it on. I slap the other one in his chest for him to hold, realising wearing shoes might be an advantage and glare some more. Still trying to maintain that haughty demeanour and not let him see how much I’m truly hurting inside.

He can’t see me weak and vulnerable. He’ll exploit it, he knows how.

“It’s a little funny. Look at you all riled up and ready to impale me with a shoe.” He tweaks my cheek cutely, holding onto my stiletto I almost stabbed him with and smiles at me in sickening adoration that is clearly fake, and a piss take. Laying it on thick and I baulk at how much I want to stab him in the centre of that smug arsehole face.

“Yeah, I’m such a catch. It’s no wonder you jumped to marry me while I was semi-conscious and unable to make a rational decision on my own.” I spit back, bitterness and truth in my words, while pulling on my shoes and yank the other from him to follow suit. Oozing sarcasm through dislike and just get another infuriating smile dazzling my way.

“See, this is why we work. We understand each other so well.”

No, we don’t. You have no idea what I’m thinking or feeling.

“Fuck up, tosser.” I pull my shoe on aggressively and then turn to stamp my foot down to get it on properly and cross my arms facing the door once more. Needing not to look at him while I get this under control and just breathe. Count to ten, let the panic pass and realise, he isn’t actually hurting me. It’s all in my head and he hasn’t really done anything.

I feel hatred and fear and a lot of other shit because my brain is having a hard time separating reality from the past, that’s all. I need to calm down and evaluate all of this. Alexi could hurt me but he’s not. He carried me but he’s not actually trying to scare me.

“Psycho.” He tweaks my cheek again and earns himself a hand slap for his efforts. Too tetchy and his touch is driving me crazy, making my skin feel like ants are crawling all over me.

“Stop trying to be cute, it’s not working.” I’m fully enveloped within myself and my own mental thoughts and he has no chance of bringing me round. Soon as we hit our floor, I’m leaving him there and getting back in this lift so he cannot get to me. I need to be away from him like. I need my space, my freedom, my air, my sanity.

I’ll need to time it so that I dart back in as the doors shut and he is facing the other way. I’ll show him how this will play out. No one will ever drag me back to slavery. To imprisonment. I didn’t spend years fleeing and clawing to be free, to end up right back in a locked room.

I can’t stop this overwhelming desire to just run. Fast as I can, as far as I can. From him. From my gilded cage, locks and chains, straps and crosses, and little dark rooms where objects are made to sleep so they know their place.

I close my eyes and force Rick out of my head, sickened at his sudden appearance and do my best to shake it away. Bile rising as his smarmy cruel grin bites at me inside my skull. Laughing at me for coming full circle, taunting me for being too weak to evade this.

He’s not Rick. He’s not going to hurt me.

I resist the urge to force my knuckles against my temples to drive him out, squeezing my eyes shut for a second to cull the movie in my head.

When the door opens, I fasten on my fake sweet smile as soon as I feel the air from the hall hit my legs. Autopilot taking over and go to follow him out, as per my plan. Head moving to calculate an escape plan, but Alexi is having none of it and in a similar manoeuvre to our room, he hoists me back onto his shoulder in an undignified manner. Igniting my fight-or-flight impulse.

“Alexi!!!” I squeal as we depart, only this time he has had the foresight to pin my arms with my body so I literally cannot do a thing to break free. I can’t hit or slap or do anything except flail around like a dolphin on dry land.

Many heads turn our way as I’m Neanderthal carried across the foyer, breathing heavily and just mentally adding this to the list of all the reasons he won’t ever see me again after this. He’s crossing the line.

“Can’t have you making a run for it, can I London?” He bounces me on his shoulder so it almost winds me, and I get another arse slap for my trouble. It’s not heavy or sore it’s just another Alexi ownership action. Another reason to flee.

I hate that he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Prick!!

“Stop fucking doing that. I honest to God fucking hate you sometimes!” Another venomous hiss through watery eyes and clenched tears. He has no clue what’s going on inside of me and stupidly thinks this is just how we are occasionally.

“Just sometimes? It must be true love.” He throws back with a merry tone and I relent, seeing boobs at the main desk, watching us as her eyes almost pop out of her head. It has a dampening effect on me, self-preservation kicking in and her snide blue eyes distract me from my current mood. I lift my chin, swallow it all down for appearance's sake because I hate that tramp. I’ll be damned if she thinks Alexi and I are in trouble, so I try to look less abducted and more ‘lovers having fun’. Smirking cattily and wink at her when she catches my eye. Bitch looks away but I get none of the smugness from putting her in her place. I just want to wail at him to let me go.

I could honestly punch him in the throat about now.

“I don’t like you very much.” I hurl it at his head quietly, turning to glare at him from my viewpoint with every ounce of loathing I can muster right at this moment.

“You didn’t say you don’t love me so I will take that as a good sign.”

“Wanker.”

“Wifey! I like that, I may now call you that instead of London.” He really seems to be enjoying my pain, much like he used to. Jocular light tone, bouncing me like he has a kid on his hip. I actually despise him.

“I swear to fucking God, stop FUCKING calling me that.” It’s no better than Rick calling me his ‘little girl’ his ‘pretty’. Labels for toys, titles for possessions.

Nausea chokes me as bile rises in my throat and I clench my eyes closed to shift that bastard out of my head. In all these years I have never had this much trouble closing him down and pushing him away as I’m having now. I know it’s all related. Trapped, suffocating, seeing Alexi as the bad guy since I woke up. It’s a mental breakdown of epic proportions fuelled by a claustrophobic response to waking up married.

“Mrs Carrero has a nice ring to it. Mrs Camilla Carrero, the wifey!” He repeats himself loudly, obviously in the full throes of amusing himself and as we make our way past nosey arseholes milling around and out to the limo, that’s waiting, I just give in completely. I stop fighting and go limp like I did anytime I knew the outcome would be worse if I fought it. There is nothing in me and my body is fatigued and achy.

“You know what, I don’t care. You’re a sadistic arse who will say it just to annoy me, so, go ahead. It doesn’t bother me. You’ll soon get bored.” I slump, losing all what’s left of my dwindling energy and fight. Too restricted to move, too weak to ever be a match for him.

Defeated. Experience has taught me I’m never a match for who he can be.

“I doubt it.” He shakes me to rile me up some more and laughs quietly when I try to knee him in the chest impulsively. Pretty hard to do in a restrictive figure-hugging navy shift dress.

“I hope your casino flops.” I’m being childish now, but I’m totally done. All I have left is verbal insults and closing down to behave like a spoiled baby.

“Well, seeing as you will be involved, and it’s also now going to be half your casino, then that’s a really silly wish. If it flops, I may just dump you in it to revive it like you did the club and visit you for the occasional weekend booty call.” He laughs again, genuine low, husky and natural.

“You wouldn’t bloody dare. I would cut your balls off for dumping me here and showing up for sex.” He at least ignites that green jealous psycho from deep down with that statement, and it’s a welcome break to the despair I was spiralling down into. A flicker of normal at the thought of him using me in some way.

“Better keep me sweet then, hadn’t you?”

“You know what, we are done talking. I can’t stand it when you’re like this, so I’m not talking to you anymore.” It didn’t last and my energy waivers with another Alexi torment. Still struggling from the effects of last night on top of everything and unable to fight my own body and mind when in chaos without energy.

“Can I have that in writing because that sounds like bliss to me?” He just sounds chipper and smug.

“Fuck you!”

“I knew it was too good to be true. Heads up beautiful, our car is awaiting your sexy ass.” He dumps me on my feet once more and ungraciously shoves me in an open car door under the wary eye of the doorman holding it. I’m pushed around easily, like a damp ragdoll, now all my resolve has fluttered away.