My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 133/The Wound of Rejection

Chapter 133

Julie’s Point of View

I opened my eyes with a massive heaviness, feeling my eyelids as if they were glued with lead.

My whole body was moaning; strange pains in my joints, and a sharp burning in my pussy that made me flinch at the mere thought of moving.

Suddenly, I felt those restraints; my wrists and ankles were secured with coarse neckties.

Memories of last night rushed back like crashing waves, drowning me in a sea of shame.

I remembered my pleas, my hoarse voice asking him to violate my virginity, and how I was squeezing my naked body before him without modesty. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to banish those hideous images, but my "humiliation" was etched into my memory.

I tried to turn around with difficulty, and my gaze collided with Robert. He was lying beside me, submerged in a terrifyingly calm sleep. At that moment, he didn’t look like a monster; his features were still, void of the cruelty he usually wore.

I began trying to untie my restraints with a silent, hysterical frenzy, but my violent movements woke him.

Our eyes met, and I felt a desire for the ground to split open and swallow me.

My completely naked body under his gaze made me feel small, as if I had become a vile and lowly being in his eyes. Robert pulled the cover with lightning speed and veiled me, then extended his hands and began to untie the restraints on my wrists in a heavy silence.

He got out of bed without looking into my eyes and said in a dry tone: "You can untie the restraints on your feet... I’m going into the bathroom; wear one of my shirts."

He disappeared behind the bathroom door, so I sprang from my place, untying the restraints on my feet with trembling fingers.

I caught sight of a black shirt lying on the floor; I snatched it and put it on quickly to hide my nakedness. I left the room dragging the tails of disappointment; for despite all the shame and embarrassment, there was another wound bleeding in my chest... how did he not find me attractive? How was he able to reject me with such coldness while I was offering myself to him? The feeling of rejection shattered what remained of my tired heart.

I entered my room feeling a boiling in my veins; I closed the door behind me violently and leaned my back against it, my breaths coming out ragged. I touched my neck and shoulders with bitter bewilderment and muttered: "How did that wretch reject me? How did he not find me worthy of him?"

I moved with shaky steps toward the large mirror, standing before it to examine my body in his oversized black shirt that barely covered me.

I began to feel the contours of my face and watch the reflection of my swollen eyes, trying hard to find a single flaw to justify his harsh rejection of me on a night when I was in his hands without defenses. I whispered in a voice broken by disappointment: "Am I really that ugly?"

Suddenly, the door hinge creaked and opened with a suspicious quietness. I flinched and turned quickly; that man sitting in his wheelchair entered Robert’s father. I froze in my place, feeling a coldness course through my limbs from his sudden and unexpected presence in my room.

He said in a dry, calm tone: "Hello, Julie."

I tried to gather my composure and pulled the edges of the shirt down with tension, then said in a defensive tone: "Hello... what do you want? And why did you come to my room?"

He fixed his piercing gaze on me and said: "There is a young man who asked you about Violet."

My heart stopped beating for a moment; how did he know about Marcus? And how did the name Violet reach his ears that aunt I didn’t know existed until recently? I felt a contraction in my stomach and asked him suspiciously: "Why are you asking?"

He replied with stillness, moving his chair a step forward: "Personal matters I cannot say."

I raised my eyebrow with bitter mockery, trying to hide my fear, and said: "Mmm... but you stick your nose into other people’s business, don’t you?"

He didn’t blink an eye; instead, he asked in a commanding tone: "Tell me... who is he?"

I answered him while averting my gaze with annoyance: "He is the nephew of Mr. Carlos... his name is Marcus."

I saw his jaw tighten suddenly, and the veins of his hand bulge over the edge of the wheelchair as if he were trying to suppress a storm inside him.

A heavy silence prevailed before he uttered words that made the blood freeze in my veins: "Is there a relationship between you and my son?"

I said in a bewilderment that made my mouth hang open slightly: "What?"

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes piercing me with cold insolence as he continued: "I am asking you if you are the one my son Robert is fucking."

I froze in my place, feeling the blood of anger boil in my veins at his insolence and boldness that knew no bounds. I gripped the edges of the oversized black shirt until my knuckles turned white, and said in a voice trembling with shock: "Who do you think you are to ask me this question?"

He replied with icy coldness, fixing his sharp gaze in my eyes: "I ask what I want."

I said, taking a step toward him, my chest rising and falling rapidly: "This is a great insolence! What do you take me for to ask me this?"

He tilted his head slightly, examining the shirt covering my body with a demeaning look, and said: "If I see you wearing my son’s shirt, then I will certainly think of you what I think."

At that moment, I felt as if a thunderbolt had struck me; I realized suddenly that I was standing before his father in his son’s clothes.

I felt a suffocating embarrassment that made my cheeks burn, and I realized that every word I said would seem like a mere wounded denial of no value. I swallowed my lump and said, trying to regain my balance: "It is not as it seems... and your son and I, it’s impossible for us to be together, be rest assured."

He said sharply, tightening his grip on the arm of his chair: "Yes, that is better... I don’t want you to go near him."

I raised my head with wounded pride and said: "I won’t... I don’t like your stupid son."

He replied with biting sarcasm, as if his words were daggers stabbing into my chest: "And he hates girls like you... he sees them as mere trash who don’t even deserve to be looked at."

My heart contracted painfully, and I felt a sharp sting in my chest; does Robert really see me that way? Was this the true reason behind his rejection of me and his harsh dismissal last night?

I couldn’t bear his presence for another second, so I shouted at him while tears were about to escape my eyes: "The trash is your son... and now get out of my room!"

He moved his chair toward the door and turned to me with harsh features, saying: "I will leave... but I will keep my eye on you, Julie. If you try to get close to my son, I will know what to do with you."

He left and closed the door behind him, so I let my body go limp and sat on the edge of the bed, breathing with difficulty. His coming was very suspicious; did he go to Sarah too and warn her? Does he possess this dangerous control that makes him prevent any girl from approaching his son?

And how did he know about Violet and Marcus? Questions were gnawing at my mind, and a sense of loss possessed me... it seems I won’t enjoy a single day of rest in this cursed place.

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Thomas’s Point of View (Robert’s Father)

I had to warn her; for despite her features that radiate false innocence, she is Violet’s daughter, and that alone is enough to make me tremble with hatred and fear.

If that woman’s blood were not running through her veins, perhaps I would have wished for her to be with Robert, but I see my son drowning, and I know that if love takes hold of his heart, it will destroy him as it destroyed me before.

And if he knows that secret concerning this girl, I would fear what he might do to himself. I must tear this feeling out from its roots before it worsens; I will not allow him to repeat my tragedy.

I said to the guard in a low voice while adjusting my position in the wheelchair: "We are going to Carlos."

And before I moved, my gaze froze; he was there, as if fate had summoned him at the decisive moment. Carlos approached, carrying a massive bouquet of red roses; their scent filled the place.

He shook my hand firmly and said with his confident smile: "Mr. Thomas, it has been a long time since I saw you."

I said, slowly withdrawing my hand: "You know that I spend most of my time at home, Carlos."

He replied, examining my face with curiosity: "How are you? Have you returned to take over the work at the club again?"

I laughed a dry laugh that came out as a rattle from my chest: "One cannot return while in this condition, as you see."

Carlos said, leaning his body toward me: "You still carry a brilliant mind that knows everything, Mr. Thomas; that is what keeps your empire standing despite everything."

I said, ignoring his praise: "Thank you, Carlos... I want to ask you about your nephew Marcus, where is he?"

Carlos’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and his facial muscles contracted slightly: "Is there something wrong?"

I said with feigned stillness: "No, no, I just want to talk to him about something."

He pulled his phone from his pocket quickly and said: "This is his phone number, record it."

After I recorded the number, I looked at the roses in his hands and asked slyly: "Did you come for Robert or for pleasure?"

Carlos burst into a manly laugh that shook his shoulders: "I came for something else."

I said, curiosity gnawing at me: "I’m curious to know... is there a reason for this bouquet of roses?"

the look in his eyes changed, becoming more glistening, and he said in a strange tone: "There is a fierce girl here who made all my systems scatter."

I smiled mockingly, shaking my head: "Carlos... the Mexican cartel that terrifies everyone has its systems scattered for a girl? This is truly strange."

He replied with certainty, tightening his grip on the stems of the roses: "If you saw her, you would never be surprised."

I said, trying to plumb his depths: "I’m curious to see her, I won’t lie."

Carlos pointed his index finger toward a specific door in the hallway and said: "She is in that room, but be ready... her tongue is very sharp."

When I turned where he was pointing, I felt as if a thunderbolt had struck my being; he was pointing at Julie’s room! The same girl who has begun to pull my son into the abyss of love.

I felt a coldness course through my limbs... will fate repeat itself? How can this girl possess this much allure to overturn the lives of the two most stoic men in this world at the same time?

I said quickly, nodding to the guard to move: "I must go now, Carlos."

He said, surprised by my sudden departure: "Alright, goodbye."

I left the club while my mind was boiling with thoughts: "I must get this girl out of here as soon as possible... her presence is a time bomb that will explode in all our faces."

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[I wrote this Chapter at 3 AM. Your support motivates me to write. Enjoy this extra Chapter! I hope you like it and that it is enough to express my great gratitude to you for being here, for your support, for reading everything. Thank you!!]