My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 44

Chapter 44: 44+45/Confrontation on the bed

Chapter 44

Julie’s point of view

I felt the pressure of his fingers tighten on my arm as if he were trying to crush my bones.

I called him an idiot... I knew it was a suicidal word, but his constant touching brings out the worst in me; it makes me lose control of my tongue completely, just as I’ve lost control of my life.

He dragged me violently behind him, his strides wide and angry, until we reached my room.

He shoved me inside and slammed the door with a bang that echoed throughout the place, then stood before me like a mountain of rage, saying in an ominous hiss:

"Who are you calling an idiot?"

His hand was still gripping my arm, so I screamed in his face while trying to break free:

"Look at yourself! Look at how you’re squeezing my arm... you’re hurting me!"

I saw a strange glint in his eyes, then his hand loosened and he pulled it back quickly, as if my body had become embers burning his fingers. He exhaled sharply in frustration and said:

"You are the one forcing me into this, Julie... your actions have crossed every red line."

"Let me go from here!"

I retorted in bitter despair, but he smiled with a cold mockery and said:

"You are staying here forever... do you understand the meaning of the word forever?"

I swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in my chest as if the walls were closing in.

"I don’t belong in this place... I can’t get used to its filth, do you understand?"

He ran his hand through his hair with a provocative coolness and replied with one word that shook my being:

"I will make you get used to it."

The lowlife bastard! Why doesn’t he end this torture and let everyone rest? He returned his piercing gaze to me and asked suddenly:

"How did you know the key opens every door?"

I froze; my secret was out. I feared he would snatch the key from me, as it was my only means of movement. I said, attempting to remain firm:

"It’s simple... the key bears no number or special engraving for this room. Since the staff and guards enter the rooms at any time, it’s logical for there to be a master key that opens all doors alongside the electronic system."

His features shifted from anger to genuine amazement.

He looked at me for a long time and said:

"I didn’t expect you to discover this, Julie... you’ve truly surprised me."

Then he added with a question:

"And why did you enter that room specifically?"

I remembered the plate of duck I hadn’t finished, and felt the pangs of hunger return:

"Because I was hungry! They didn’t bring me dinner today, and I haven’t eaten a thing since yesterday’s breakfast... I was going to die of hunger, and you didn’t even let me finish my food!"

He seemed puzzled and asked in an unexpectedly calm tone:

"Why didn’t you ask for food from me... or from Olivia?"

I laughed sarcastically:

"Simply because you were on the upper floor, busy with a ’trade’ party you care about!"

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more dangerous pitch:

"I truly underestimated your intelligence... because I didn’t know you were in your third year of university despite your young age."

The blood froze in my veins. I felt naked before a monster reading my thoughts. How did he know? Even my father doesn’t know I skipped academic years with excellence. I stammered:

"How did you know this?"

He smiled with a cunning that revealed his devilish handsomeness:

"If your father lied to me, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t conduct my own research... Julie."

I replied bitterly:

"My father didn’t lie to you... he just doesn’t know. That bastard doesn’t even know what year I’m studying!"

He nodded in agreement and said mockingly:

"You’re right... he is a bastard, and he sold me a ’curse’."

Fire ignited in my chest, and I said while clenching my fists:

"And it will curse you!"

He smiled coldly:

"I am already cursed... you’re studying economics and business administration too? Were you planning to start a company?"

He was mocking my shattered dreams, so I retorted sharply:

"Yes... a company for killing scoundrels!"

He laughed softly and asked with biting sarcasm:

"And will you speak in Spanish or French in it?"

I realized then that I was at the mercy of a man who knew more about me than I knew about this room.

He knew my languages, my excellence, my ambition... he had even robbed me of the privacy of my past.

I looked into the depths of his black eyes, which resembled the fog before a storm, and said in a tone dripping with defiance:

"I see you care a lot about my information, Mr. Robert... excessively so, as if you fear you cannot control what you remain ignorant of."

I saw his jaw muscles visibly contract, as if my words had hit a sensitive nerve he was trying to hide behind his icy mask.

But he quickly regained his composure and smiled a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes, replying in a husky voice:

"Don’t think you’re special, Julie... don’t let your imagination run wild. But in my world, information is the key; it’s what makes you like an open book before me, I read your pages before you even think of writing them."

I screamed in his face with all my strength, as if my scream were the last fortress I could use to defend my dignity:

"Stop!"

I wasn’t going to let him go any further, nor break those boundaries I had sworn no one would cross.

If this damn key was what made him violate my space this way, let him and his key go to hell.

With my trembling hand, I pulled the key from my pajama pocket and extended it toward him as if I were throwing a piece of burning coal.

"Take your damn key... and get off me now!"

My tone was a mix of contempt and brokenness, and my eyes, which finally met his, were burning with a fire that, if I could, would have burned this club and everyone in it.

Robert looked at the key in my hand, then looked at me, and I saw a strange flash in his eyes; perhaps it was victory, or perhaps wonder at my ability to maintain my pride even in my weakest state.

He took the key coldly, and I felt his fingers touch my palm for a second, enough to send a shiver of disgust through my body.

He didn’t move immediately; he stared at me for a while, as if studying my contracted facial features, then very slowly, he began to lift his heavy body off me.

But he stopped suddenly and looked at me.

"I haven’t held you accountable for the improvisation you did on stage."

I looked at him and said:

"Get off me and hold me accountable however you wish."

He raised an eyebrow and said:

"I like holding you accountable while I’m like this."

He knew that being held accountable this way was the greatest punishment for me.

I couldn’t move, and I felt so helpless that my eyes filled with tears. I said, trying to stop them from falling:

"Please, get up."

I saw his features stiffen when I uttered the word "Please." Perhaps he didn’t expect to hear it from me, I who moments ago was calling him an idiot and defying him fiercely.

That word was my only admission of physical defeat against his power, and I felt bitterness as it left my lips.

Very slowly, and with a movement not devoid of a cruelty cloaked in an eerie calmness, he lifted his body off me.

I suddenly felt the coldness of the room invade my body after the suffocating warmth of his body had left.

He stood beside the bed, coldly adjusting the lapels of his suit jacket as if he hadn’t been practicing the most heinous psychological pressure on me seconds ago.

He put the key in his trouser pocket and said in a husky voice:

"The accounting is not over yet, Julie."

I stood up from the bed quickly, trying my hardest to freeze the tears inside my eyes so they wouldn’t fall. I looked at him and said,

’’Robert... do not repeat what you just did.’’

I didn’t call him ’Sir’; instead, I stripped him of his title while looking at him with pure defiance