My father sold me to the Mafia King

Chapter 128:

Julie’s Point of View

The woman’s blue eyes were fixed on me as if they were digging into my features, waiting for an answer with a suspicious patience that made the hairs on my neck stand up.

I tried to escape her gaze, pressing with trembling fingers against the warmth of the mug, and said, trying to find an excuse: ”Can I drink this first? I still feel cold.”

She leaned her back slightly and said in a calm tone: ”Yes, of course, go ahead.”

I began to sip the warm liquid slowly, feeling its heat slide down my throat, while my mind raced ahead of my heartbeat in search of a convincing lie.

After I finished the cup and placed it on the table with a hand that was still shaking, she asked me: ”What is your name?”

I said in a faint voice: ”Julie.”

A slight smile formed on her lips that didn’t reach her eyes: ”A beautiful name, Julie. And I am Samantha.”

I nodded cautiously: ”Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Samantha.”

She leaned toward me again, as if interrogating me silently, then said in a tone that accepted no evasion: ”Yes... what is your story?”

Her curiosity had not faded despite her apparent kindness. I felt a cramp in my stomach and said, trying to steady my tone of voice: ”My father wanted to marry me off to someone I don’t love, and I ran away from home.”

Samantha raised her eyebrow in surprise, tilting her head to the side as she scrutinized me coldly: ”Is that really what happened?”

She uttered her sentence in a tone that made the blood freeze in my veins, as if she were piercing through my lie and knew the whole truth.

I swallowed my saliva and tried to support my shaky narrative: ”The groom my father chose is an old man, and he has children older than me.”

Her features remained frozen, devoid of any human expression. Suddenly, I began to feel a strange heaviness in my eyelids.

I rubbed my eyes hard while her face began to double and move in a blurred way before me. A sudden panic hit me; had I fallen into another trap? Is this woman an organ trafficker or a serial killer?

I said in a faltering and almost inaudible voice: ”I can’t see well...”

Despite my rapidly blurring vision, I caught the edge of a wicked smile beginning to form on her face, a smile that stripped her of all that artificial kindness.

I tried to stand up, but my legs failed me completely, and I felt as if my body had become a piece of lead. I said, panting: ”What is happening?”

With my final attempt to grab the edge of the sofa, the thread of my consciousness unraveled, and I felt the darkness swallow me and plunge me into a deep abyss.

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Carlos’s Point of View

My pupils dilated as I contemplated the void; I never imagined that my heart would beat for a woman before, and that woman is a girl only eighteen years old.

I was always trying to convince myself that it was just a whim and would end, but it didn’t end. The problem is that Robert my friend for years who never shared his feelings with a woman fell into the same net I fell into.

My jaw muscles tensed as I remembered his request for me to give up Julie, to give up the girl who made my heart beat and rejoice just by seeing her. I said sharply: ”I will not give up on you, Julie, and I will fight for you even if I make Robert my enemy.”

The ringing of my phone interrupted my train of thought; it was Marcus, my nephew. I answered curtly: ”Yes Marcus, what is it?”

He said: ”Uncle, we found Monchies.”

I sat up straight and felt the pulse of anger in my temple: ”Did you find that scoundrel?”

He said: ”Yes, he was hiding inside a whore’s house.”

I said: ”I’m coming now. I want to hold him accountable myself.” I put on my jacket with a swift movement and hurried out; for Monchies was my right hand upon whom I relied, and I would be the one to punish him for his betrayal.

I reached the warehouse and entered; the air was heavy with the smell of moisture and blood. Monchies was tied to the chair, his head tilted, and bloody wounds covered his face.

I said, standing before him coldly: ”Monchies, did you think you could hide forever?”

Monchies replied in terror, his body clearly shaking behind the ropes: ”Mr. Carlos, ’Tono’ threatened to kill me... I had no choice but to give him the information.”

I averted my gaze from him and clenched my hand behind my back: ”Monchies, he who surrenders to threats of death is just a coward who doesn’t deserve to live.”

He said in a faltering voice: ”I beg of you, sir, I have a daughter and my wife is waiting for me at home... don’t kill me.”

At that moment, I heard a voice from behind me: ”Sir, don’t kill him.” I looked back and found a young man with green eyes and blonde hair. I said, narrowing my eyes in scrutiny: ”Who are you?”

He approached tensely, his hands interlocking in front of his chest: ”I am Steve, sir.”

I said: ”Steve, come here.” He approached further and stood before me, so I asked him, tilting my head slightly: ”What did you just say to me? Did you ask me not to kill him?”

He replied in a low voice: ”Yes, sir.”

I said: ”Fine, I won’t kill him.” I saw how the young man’s body relaxed and he smiled with satisfaction, while hope returned to Monchies’ face once more.

I pulled my weapon from my waist, placed it in the boy’s hand, and said: ”You will kill him.”

I took a step back, watching how his hand began to tremble as he held the weapon, wondering how this boy became one of my men. He said in a broken voice: ”No sir, I can’t.”

I said with a firmness that made his shoulders stiffen: ”Either he dies, or you die.”

Monchies screamed, trying to survive: ”Steve, don’t kill me! Remember how I forgave you and didn’t tell Mr. Carlos to kill you!”

I turned to Steve and asked him: ”What did you do, Steve, to make Monchies forgive you?”

He said, bowing his head in shame: ”I stole.”

I liked his courage and how he admitted his deed without evasion. I said, pointing to Monchies: ”Look, boy, do you see how he tried to drag you to death with him? Go on, kill him.”

The weapon was shaking in his hand and a look of hesitation filled his eyes. I was in no mood to wait for this forever; I stepped toward him, gripped his hand firmly, pressing your index finger over his finger on the trigger.

The bullet fired, piercing Monchies’ head directly.

The boy remained frozen in his place, his eyes wide from shock. I said to him as I retrieved my weapon coldly: ”Don’t hesitate again when I command you to do something, or you will take a bullet like this one.” I left him drowning in his bewilderment and walked out into the open air.

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Julie’s Point of View

As my consciousness began to return, I was greeted by nothing but pitch darkness and a heaviness pressing on my head.

I instinctively tried to stretch out my hand, and my wrist collided with cold, hard metal; handcuffs were restricting my movement, digging their edges into my skin with every attempt.

I felt the softness of the bed beneath my body, but my four limbs were tightly bound, and a thick blindfold pressed against my eyes, preventing me from seeing.

My body writhed on the mattress in a desperate attempt to loosen the restraint, until I felt the roughness of the metal gnawing at my wrists.

I began to scream at the top of my lungs, feeling my vocal cords stretch until they almost burst: ”Save me! Is there anyone who hears me?”

No reply came, so my breathing became more disturbed and my ribs shook from the intensity of the terror. I continued to scream frantically until I felt a burning dryness tearing my throat, so I stopped, panting, swallowing my saliva bitterly.

Suddenly, the woman’s calm and provocative voice pierced the silence: ”Julie... why are you screaming? No one can hear you.”

My body stiffened completely on the bed, as if her voice were a cold current that froze the blood in my veins. I asked her in a trembling tone mixed with fear: ”Why did you tie me up? What do you want from me?”

I heard the sound of her calm footsteps approaching, then she said in a mocking tone: ”Did your parents not tell you not to go with a stranger?”

I clenched my bound fist sharply, feeling a surge of anger sweep through my terror, and said in a voice that tried to be strong: ”Who are you? And why are you doing this to me?”

I felt the coldness of her breath as she leaned toward me, then she said with a terrifying calmness that made the hairs on my body stand up: ”I liked your green eyes very much... so I thought about gouging them out.”