My father sold me to the Mafia King

Chapter 91:

Julie’s Point of View

I froze in my place, feeling a lump in my throat that prevented me from speaking, while my mind scrambled in an attempt to grasp the terrifying situation I had fallen into.

I sprang from the chair with lightning speed, slamming the file shut with one strike of my palm, then rushed toward the drinks table with staggering steps.

I placed the file there, and the crystal glasses shook and collided with each other, making a sharp clink that almost betrayed my breakdown.

I raised my hands in front of my chest in a defensive movement and said in a shaky voice:

”Nothing... I’m not doing anything.”

He took a step toward me, and my body contracted as I retreated until the edge of the table hit my waist.

He stared at me with his cold eyes and said sarcastically:

”Mmm... so you were sitting in Mr. Robert’s chair, searching through his things, and you say nothing?”

My troubled gaze strayed toward his ear, where a small earpiece glinted with a black wire extending behind his neck to disappear under his jacket; he is not just a man, he is Robert’s shadow.

I swallowed hard, feeling cold sweat breaking out on my palms as I tried to justify the situation:

”Look... it’s not what it looks like, I’m not searching.”

He leaned the weight of his body forward, placing his massive hand on the table next to the glasses to increase my entrapment, and said:

”The Master asked me to tell you to leave his office... what if he found out you were spying?”

I felt my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth, and said in a faint, trembling voice:

”Spying?... No, I’m not doing that.”

The bastard! He is crushing my nerves with his accusations. I tightened my grip on the fabric of my shirt over my stomach, which cramped with pain, and continued desperately:

”Listen... I’m just a little curious and I wanted to explore the office.”

He lowered his head toward me until his breath was close, then slowly shifted his gaze toward the file I had just placed and said in a suspicious tone:

”Your curiosity is very strong.”

I wrenched myself from his entrapment and stood in the middle of the office, my body vibrating with a hidden shiver I couldn’t suppress.

I looked at him with pleading eyes and said:

”I suppose you won’t tell him anything... will you?”

He adjusted his stance coldly, lifting his chin up as he answered in a robotic, emotionless tone:

”He is my boss... I must tell him everything.”

I said cautiously while trying to steady my trembling feet:

”Maybe we can reach an agreement.”

His neck tilted slightly with cold curiosity and he said:

”I’m all ears.”

My mind stopped for a second, as I had nothing to negotiate with, and suddenly a desperate idea flashed in my mind; I raised my head slightly and said:

”I will give you a diamond necklace in exchange for your silence.”

Yes, those cursed jewels the customers sent on that ill-fated night.

He crossed his massive arms over his chest, the muscles of his forearms bulging under the fabric as he asked rigidly:

”Are you trying to bribe me?”

I took a step back and said with an accent I tried to make confident:

”It’s not a bribe... let’s call it a settlement.”

He shook his head slowly and said:

”Hmm... but I don’t accept.”

My tone sharpened and I lunged a step toward him, pointing my hand nervously:

”Why? Take the diamond necklace and don’t tell him, it’s very easy!”

His eyes narrowed, and I felt his gaze scanning my features precisely:

”Is this a test?” I knitted my brows in shock: ”What do you mean?”

He continued with deadly suspicion:

”Perhaps Mr. Robert is testing my loyalty... perhaps you are a partner with him in this game.”

I screamed sharply while shaking my head left and right:

”I swear to you it’s not a test!”

He approached me further until I felt his shadow covering me completely, and said in a low tone:

”I don’t believe you.”

I felt an overwhelming urge to scream at him or pull his hair from sheer frustration, but I settled for lowering my head and muttered pleadingly:

”Please... don’t tell him.”

Suddenly, his movement stopped completely, and I saw his eyes fix on my reddened cheek; he asked in a different tone:

”Who did this to you?”

I got confused and quickly pulled strands of my hair to cover the traces of the blow, and told the first lie that jumped to my mind to justify my terror:

”Mr. Robert... he is the one who slapped me.”

His eyes widened in wonder:

”Mr. Robert?”

I began to weave the threads of my lie frantically while clasping my fingers together tightly:

”Yes... he is very cruel, he... he forced me to kiss his foot to ask for forgiveness.”

I cursed myself in secret for this disgusting exaggeration.

He raised his eyebrow in disapproval, so I continued while pretending to tremble:

”Yes, he is beyond what you imagine... he prevents me from eating, and he pulled me by my hair hard because I put sugar in his coffee!”

He placed his hands behind his neck and stretched his body slightly as if absorbing the shock, and said:

”You have truly surprised me.”

I looked at him with bloodshot eyes, and said while panting lightly:

”So... you won’t tell him, will you?”

He said in a tone void of promises:

”I’ll think about it.”

I pressed my teeth together hard until I felt pain in my jaw, and said in a muffled voice:

”What will you think about?”

He eyed me with icy coldness and didn’t utter a word, so my shoulders shook with annoyance and I said:

”What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you talking?”

Suddenly, the door opened to let in ”The Angel of Death”; it was Robert.

He had discarded his blue suit and wore another in dark red that oozed power and suited him perfectly.

I froze in my place while watching him advance, his eyes fixed on me making my breath quicken.

He said in his deep voice that echoed throughout the room:

”Why are you still in my office?”

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my scattered self and steady my trembling feet, but the guard beat me to it and said rigidly:

”She was sleeping on the sofa, sir.”

I let out a hidden gasp that no one noticed; My God! He actually stayed silent, and even lied to Robert for my sake.

Robert’s eyebrow rose in question, and he repeated in a suspicious tone:

”Sleeping?”

I turned toward him quickly and shook my head confirming:

”Yes, Mr. Robert... I came to your office and didn’t find you.”

My panicked gaze shifted between the guard and Robert, then I continued while clasping my fingers together:

”I sat on the sofa waiting for you, and I was tired... I don’t know how I succumbed to sleep.”

He shook his head slowly, and said with his usual coldness:

”Fine.”

He walked with his massive body toward the table, picked up the file with his broad hand and then said:

”You can go to your room, I have work outside and will return in the evening.”

I said as relief began to seep into my limbs:

”Alright, Mr. Robert.”

I dashed out of the office with the guard following me with steady steps.

As soon as the door closed behind us, I turned to him and whispered, overwhelmed with gratitude:

”Thank you.”

He replied in a low, stern voice:

”In two hours, come to the kitchen... you know it.”

I nodded my head quickly and said:

”Yes, I will come and bring the necklace.”

I rushed down the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest with joy at my survival, until my feet almost didn’t touch the ground as I hurried toward my room, thanking God that this disaster had ended in peace.