My father sold me to the Mafia King

Chapter 40: 40/Maestro of nerves

Chapter forty

Robert’s Point of View

Quite some time had passed since the door had closed on Carlos and Julie.

I stood in the hallway, feeling the weight of every passing second, as if I were a stranger to my own place and authority.

I had no choice but to enter; anxiety had begun to gnaw at me, and the questions about what was happening between them behind that locked door were exhausting me more than the fatigue of this long night.

Standing outside, waiting for a signal from my friend to allow me into my own ”property,” was a feeling I had never grown accustomed to.

I opened the door, and though Carlos’s gaze told me clearly that my timing did not please him, I didn’t care. I wanted to regain control of the situation.

But Julie did not remain silent; instead, she launched those sarcastic words about Carlos’s ”age” and his alleged medications. I couldn’t stop myself; I smiled despite myself.

Julie is the only one who possesses that endearing audacity to say what even the most formidable mafia bosses wouldn’t dare.

However, that smile didn’t last long, for I saw Carlos’s pride shudder before me.

His feigned calmness turned into a searing rage, and he approached her with swift, ominous steps.

His voice became as sharp as a blade when he said:

”Do you want to know my real illness, Julie?”

I knew him well... I knew that Carlos was not adept at maintaining his composure; he had always been to me like a warning sign written in bold letters:

”Highly Flammable.”

He continued in a tone dripping with venom:

”My illness is that I kill anyone who tries to test my patience!”

At that moment, I realized things were about to spiral out of control. Julie stood tall, but Carlos was on the verge of exploding, and I couldn’t allow a massacre in her room.

I stepped toward him quickly, placing my hand firmly on his shoulder, and said in a commanding voice, trying to absorb the flames:

”Carlos... calm down. Let’s get out of here.”

As I tightened my grip on Carlos’s shoulder, trying to push him back and defuse the fuse that nearly burned the room down, Julie’s response came like a gunshot that hit his pride fatally.

She didn’t keep quiet; instead, she said in a tone dripping with provocative confidence:

”Calm down, Mr. Carlos... we wouldn’t want to lose you to a sudden heart attack!”

My hand froze on his shoulder. I felt his back muscles stiffen like steel, and a silence heavier than mountains fell over the room.

I looked at Julie in disbelief; did she really not realize she was messing with a monster who knows no mercy?

Or did she realize it and enjoy seeing his prestige crumble before her?

Carlos turned toward her slowly, his eyes reflecting true madness this time. It was no longer just a ”duel of words”; it had turned into a public insult to his manhood and power before his friend and rival.

His grip on his cane tightened until his knuckles turned white, and he tilted his head slightly, saying in a low hiss:

”Robert... leave me. I’ll know how to deal with her.”

I pressed harder on his shoulder, standing as a physical barrier between them, and said in a low, warning voice:

”Carlos... leave now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The atmosphere was so charged that any wrong move would have led to a catastrophe.

Julie remained standing with a straight back, as if she were betting that I wouldn’t let him touch her or perhaps betting on her own death as a final way to be free.

And while the fires were about to consume everything, and while I was preparing to repel Carlos’s attack at any cost, Julie spoke again, but her tone this time was different; it was a calm, almost playful tone, devoid of that lethal defiance.

She said, looking at him coldly:

”Don’t lose your temper, Mr. Carlos... I’m only joking with you.”

Carlos stopped resisting, so she continued with a brilliance that even the most seasoned negotiators would envy:

”You told me a moment ago that you enjoy provoking me... so why do you want to deprive me now of the pleasure of provoking you? That’s not fair, Mr. Mendoza.”

In that moment, something I never expected happened. I felt Carlos’s body under my hand relax completely, as if those words were an antidote to a poison that had struck him.

The features of madness vanished from his face, replaced by a strange calmness.

I was stunned by her wondrous ability; how could mere words make him lose his mind and reach the brink of murder just moments ago, and how could the same voice make him calm down now in such an unbelievable way?

Julie was playing on the strings of his nerves as if she were a professional maestro, knowing when to press and when to release.

Carlos looked at her for a long time; a strange silence hung over the place before he broke it with a short, dry laugh the laugh of a man who cannot believe he fell into the psychological trap of a girl years younger than him. He shook his head in amazement and said:

”You little madwoman... I truly don’t believe you are eighteen years old!”

Then he turned to me, astonishment still etched on his harsh features, and added mockingly:

”Robert... you’ve been scammed without a doubt; this girl is at least thirty years old!”

He was right; whoever watched her steadfastness, her ability to manipulate a man of Carlos’s stature, and her quick wit that precedes a bullet, would never believe that the one standing before us was still in the prime of her youth.

I looked at her; her eyes shone with an ancient intelligence an intelligence one only acquires through suffering. I replied, fixing my gaze on her seriously:

”Yes She rebels even against the years of her age, Carlos...”

Julie smiled a cold smile the smile of someone who knows their worth very well and said in a commanding tone that brooked no argument, as if she were the owner of the place:

”And now... get out of my room. I want to rest.”

Carlos left, still smiling in disbelief, while I remained rooted to my spot for an extra second.

She kicked us out! She kicked ”Robert Cross” and ”Carlos Mendoza” out of a room that is originally mine, in a club where everyone trembles at the mention of my name.

Narrator’s point of view

Things are getting heated and the fires of rebellion are burning. Be prepared.