I slide into the seat of the private jet, quietly laughing at the emblazoned gold ‘C’ logo on absolutely everything in a very amused manner that gets a shrug from Alexi. It’s not his plane but it belongs to his cousin or something, and I get a kick out of the familiar iconic mark everywhere. I have seen it on buildings in the city and on paperwork in the office sometimes. It’s not Alexi’s trademark, but the business tycoons in the family use it to solidify a brand. Carrero is a household name on a lot of high-quality products and services in the States.
I move in and slump down into the moulded leather of the best aeroplane seat I have ever sat on in my life, enjoying the feeling of well-designed comfort as my weary bones unfurl. Even though this belongs to family; with his money I’m sure he could afford one of his own and wonder why he doesn’t. He travels enough to warrant it.
I don’t understand the dynamics of the Carreros at all, or the way the underworld and above-board sides coexist and share, yet remain separate in public lives. It’s odd.
It seems like they are one secretly huge close-knit community underneath, who are either on the good side or not. Everyone still interacts and knows what the other side is doing and seems fine with it overlapping occasionally; Private relationships, such as meeting his cousins for training or family time out of sight, away from prying eyes. The media never connects the flashy businessmen with the politically ingrained ones like Alexi.
I know his cousin Jacob Carrero is on the New York’s hot men list for the umpteenth year in a row, and yet Alexi has avoided being printed in any sort of glossy his whole life. He is hotter than his cousin by any standard, in my opinion!
Both are known billionaires with many companies at their command, yet somehow Alexi is given a free pass from the media and only those with his dark world connections know of his true reputation and purpose in life.
I guess money can buy you any kind of front you need and equally hide the parts you wish to remain unseen. He has powerful friends in high places and generations of connections that enable this almost split existence. He can pass off as introverted money-maker who frequents events, and those in the know are aware you never cross him or gossip about what his family are if you want to keep breathing. It’s crazy how society lets it go on in the shadows this way.
I guess it’s a form of protection too, for those not embroiled in Alexi’s world and some who are. He can take better care of the innocents if they are not linked to the family’s crime side; protect acquaintances who show him favour. And I know, above all, he has a huge thing about responsibility for his family and protecting them, always. With him, family are priority. I have always known that about him. It’s the first rule in his code book.
Family comes first!
We got here before anyone, the little Club Carrero group of us, so as I relax after choosing my back seat in an empty plane, Alexi moves in from trailing after me at a distance and sits on the seat right next to me and gets comfy too. Stretching out his legs and throwing me a soft smile as he settles in right beside me. I am not surprised he chose to sit here; seeing as everyone coming has a partner and I guess it would look weird if he sat somewhere else and left me alone. Alexi never goes dateless by choice, so he will expect everyone to assume I’m a current plaything.
I don’t really care as long as he knows that’s not how this is.
Apart from Gino, Mico and now Jackson, I don’t know anyone else who is coming with us and as far as I know, it’s a small group.
Mico and his girlfriend Mandy already picked seats at the very front of the plane, facing forward to have some ‘alone time’ and we are right at the back where the tables are because I wanted a window seat and somewhere with a desk space to spread out. I don’t do social groups very often.
I brought some books to read on the flight, seeing as he told me it is three hours to Miami—the billionaire destination for nightclub getaways apparently. I don’t want to spend three hours making small talk with anyone, especially not Alexi.
I can’t believe we are all just hopping on a plane to Miami for one night of getting drunk and partying. It does seem rather random and spontaneous for Alexi, but as Jackson told me in the lift, this is a two-yearly event and it’s the only way Alexi ever really kicks back properly in his busy schedule. My being invited seems a little more symbolic the more I think about it, and as I glance his way to evaluate him, I can’t help feeling this is significant.
Alexi is texting on his phone, oblivious to me while he is focused on whatever and doesn’t look my way, even when I stare at him for a good three minutes. That handsome profile set on what he is reading and he just looks so young tonight. Not intimidating or boorish in any way. He seems relaxed and in a bright mood. Even on the car ride here, he was playful and seemed to ooze a new side to him. It was strange, if not a little nice.
He’s still dressed casually from earlier, with the addition of a leather jacket which only emphasizes the tattoo running up the side of his neck and behind his ear. He had a haircut today and it’s shorter and spikier than normal, he looks like any other hot man on the way to a weekend adventure. Effortlessly youthful and sexy and I pull myself away from overly examining him, aware that he has a very extreme effect on my nether regions when I allow my brain to stray down that path. I am trying not to let my hormones cloud my brain when it comes to him.
I’m distracted by more people boarding and get a smile from Gino as he drags in a tall leggy brunette, who looks very Italian, by the hand. She is slim, tanned, exotic and gorgeous, with a massive set of boobs over a tiny waist under a very tight red dress, and smiles our way graciously.
‘Ehi, Alexi, da tempo non ci vediamo,’ she beams at him, and he looks up waving back—obviously understanding her.
‘Hey, Alessandra, nice dress.’ Alexi gets up, eyeing her up appreciatively, smiling naturally, and moves along the aisle to kiss her on the cheek. I watch in disbelief, a churning of something in the pit of my stomach as she gives him a warm hug and kisses him back. It’s not awkward or forced and he still seems as relaxed as he was.
‘You look so sexy in this. Gino might have competition, huh? She jests cheekily, smoothing her hands over the lapels of his jacket, laughing when Gino frowns at her and shoves his brother in the shoulder playfully. Alexi just winks at Gino and ignores the faux outrage on his face. It’s obvious that Gino has no qualms about his woman’s loyalty. Or else this is just plain sick.
Alessandra has a very heavy Italian accent and I don’t know whether I like her or not. I don’t appreciate her overly touchy way with Alexi, or the fact he seems to be totally fine with it.
I swear to god they better have never had a threesome or I may just leave on the grounds of that thought alone.
She oozes sex appeal and is effortlessly beautiful and sensual in every way she moves. Inhumanely stunning with a body to die for and I can tell even from here her dress is designer. She has taste.