Chapter 63

‘’We’ll see. Looking for an apartment is one thing. Being allowed to move out is another.’’ He calls after me with that shitty tone of arrogant prick that thinks he can rule everything about me, and I don’t know how one man can make a couple of deadpan sentences sound like the most rage inducing thing in the world—but he is supreme at it.

He slides his half-eaten food further along the bar towards me, out of his way, done with it and goes back to looking at his goddamn paperwork.

‘’I swear to fucking God!!!’’ I spin on him angrily, losing all remnants of cool and yelling it at him. ‘’You realise you are an arsehole, like seriously? You need to get a bloody grip. NEWSFLASH ALEXI! You cannot control someone who doesn’t want to be owned! How are you going to stop me? Tie me up and lock me in this club? Take away my privileges of getting to go outside and chain me to the fucking floor? Lock me in a cupboard and keep me there indefinitely? I would like to see you fucking try, you complete prick!’’ I am practically stamping my foot at him, and he’s just infuriatingly cool, watching me with that empty expression and those lifeless, colourless eyes. Unfazed, uncaring and completely fucking devoid of humanity.

‘’Push me and see.’’ It's not even raised in volume or tone. Infuriatingly unaffected while I’m bubbling like molten metal over here.

‘’You have got to stop with the threats and the constant trying to put the fear of God into me. I don’t care!!! Do your worst—fuck me or beat me, defile me and crush me down like a worthless piece of shit that you found on your shoe. You wouldn’t be doing anything I haven’t already lived through, so if you thought you had an upper hand, then forget it. I can survive worse than you can throw at me so bring it on. I am so done with your bullshit Carrero, you are not the worst shit I have endured and if you are trying to break me then good luck … I died a long time ago and this is the fucking result.’’ I exhale after my mini rant and try to compose myself. So fuelled with anger and breathing hard as my lungs strain against my outburst, my face flushed with effort and body burning with exertion.

I really despise that he just draws this out of me effortlessly and I feel like he’s trying to make me insane, slowly but surely. A man who can suffocate you without laying a finger on you, another accomplishment he would be proud of no doubt.

‘‘PMS? Or just woke up in the wrong bed and a massive case of ‘why didn’t he want to cuddle with me after I let him fuck me’?’’ He smirks at me, mocking me with a convincing British accent and I just flip with that one little arrogant smug as fuck face and dickhead laugh.

I pick up his plate of food which is nearer me than him and throw it over him, rather well aimed and surprisingly direct to the target, before tossing the porcelain over his head like a Frisbee for effect and smashing it across the floor.

‘‘If I’m going to be punished then maybe I’ll start making it worthwhile!’’ I snap at him and turn to walk away, heart pounding as he sits completely still and silent as salad rolls down his expensive clothes. I have no actual fucks to give, he’s infuriating on every level and I want him to snap and strangle me to death, put me out of my misery once and for all.

The bar girl comes back with the food I ordered and halts in open-mouthed shock as she catches sight of Carrero wearing his breakfast and does a double take from him to me and then back again sheepishly, all colour draining from her face. She has the sense to feel instant fear on my behalf. ‘’Better give it to him; I think he might still be hungry.’’ I snap at her too as I pass and try not to break into a run before he comes after me. I know it’s inevitable, but I am not waiting around for that. If I get my arse out of this club and into the street he’s less likely to physically hurt me.

I hear the scrape of bar stool on wooden floor and my heart literally jumps into my mouth, instant regret hitting hard, and I know I better run like the wind. Carrero obviously took a moment to digest what I just did and now he’s raging.

Reaction overtakes thought and impulsively I freak the fuck out. I don’t look back, just break into a sprint in high shoes, aiming for the corridor to the back entrance and take off at speed. Apt at high heel running when I must. I have never been so petrified in my life, and even in four-inch heels I get to the door in record time and slide past his two goons who are napping on the job.

I keep my access card in my bra and with a swipe I’m out in the morning sun, in New York’s grey air, hightailing it down the side alley and up towards the front of the building to try and find a way out or a cab. I don’t care if I have no bag or coat. I can charge most shit to my account or go find a bank in the city to withdraw cash and keep out of the way all day until he simmers.

I need to get the hell away from him while he cools down, and I am not coming back until he does, it’s a bit like lighting a fuse and realising you better move away from the blast zone until it settles. Mr Dynamite is burning away and getting ready to go ‘Kaboom’.