My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 148/The Mafia Girl Fantasy

Chapter 148

Robert’s Point of View

I hadn’t expected Julie to be such a master of evasion. Truly, she has a knack for lies so bizarre they make me want to laugh in her face, yet she remains somehow convincing in her sheer momentum.

One question gnawed at me as I climbed the stairs: Is Max actually gay, or is this just another one of her ploys to save his neck?

In truth, I never intended to kill Max; he is a competent guard. I simply wanted to see how far Julie would go to save him what sacrifices she was willing to make on his behalf.

When we reached the upstairs hallway, Julie let out a muffled groan. I watched her features contort in pain as she braced her back. I stopped, inspecting her closely: "What’s wrong? Are you in pain?"

"No... I’m fine," she snapped, avoiding my gaze. She hurried away toward her room with heavy, labored steps, as if fleeing my presence.

I felt a twinge of concern that she was still hurting.

At that moment, my phone rang. It was Daniel. I exhaled in annoyance and answered: "Yes, Daniel?"

"Sir, there is an important meeting in thirty minutes, and you haven’t arrived at the company yet," he said in his usual business-like tone.

I felt the bruises Carlos’s punches had left on my face and replied coldly: "Postpone the meeting, Daniel."

"But sir, the investors are waiting and...."

"Daniel," I cut him off sharply, "my face is covered in bruises. I cannot attend a meeting looking like this."

A brief silence followed before he replied: "Understood, sir... I will inform them you’ve had a sudden health emergency."

I hung up, frustrated, and headed to my office. I sat behind the massive desk, trying to focus on reviewing paper files before moving on to some pending tasks on my tablet.

A strange heaviness settled behind my eyelids; my body felt drained in a way I wasn’t used to, as if the day’s events had siphoned all my energy.

I ate a light, tasteless dinner in the office, then headed to my room. I lay on the bed, and as I closed my eyes, the image of Julie shielding Max flashed through my mind.

I smirked to myself before sleep finally claimed me.

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Julie’s Point of View

I stepped out of the bathroom, my body shivering from the cold water. I pulled on my pajamas and cautiously lay on the bed.

A sharp pain was gnawing at my back, making me hiss in regret: "I wish I’d never asked Max to fight me!"

Here I was, writhing in pain, and to make matters worse, there was Max. He’s definitely going to kill me tomorrow because of that ridiculous lie I threw at Robert.

But what was I supposed to do? It was the only logical choice to keep his head from Robert’s bullets.

I tossed and turned, wondering: "Why does he kill every man who gets close to me? What is the point of this madness?" If I didn’t know his heart was as hard as a stone, I might have thought for a second that he actually liked me or had fallen in love.

But that was impossible; he had made it brutally clear more than once that he doesn’t like "little virgins." So, what is the real reason? I sat up with difficulty, ate a quick dinner, and surrendered to a heavy, thought-filled sleep.

Early the next morning, I put on my gym clothes and headed to Max’s room. This time, I knocked politely.

He opened immediately, and the moment he saw me, he spoke with pure bitterness, leaning his hand against the doorframe: "Really? Gay?"

"People usually say ’Good morning’ first," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is there any ’good’ left, Julie, after what you did?" he mocked, stepping aside to let me in. "Couldn’t you find any other lie but that?"

"What lie did you want me to tell?" I asked, facing his frustration. "Didn’t you see him draw his weapon? He was about to kill you!"

"I’d rather he killed me than have this reputation," he said, shaking his head in grief.

I huffed: "Stop it, Max! You’re acting as if you’ll actually become gay just because I said so."

"This lie is bad, Julie... very bad," he said, clenching his jaw.

"I had no choice," I said seriously. "Come on, let’s train."

"Absolutely not," he replied firmly.

"Why?"

"You had a violent fall yesterday," he said, eyeing my stiff posture. "I am certainly not letting you exhaust your body today."

"But the pain is gone!" I argued.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved quickly behind me and pressed his thumb hard into a specific point on my spine.

"AAAH!" I shrieked involuntarily.

"See?" he said triumphantly. "You need total rest."

I turned to him with a pleading look: "Then... teach me something else."

"Like what?" he asked curiously.

"I want you to teach me how to use a weapon," I said, my eyes gleaming with new resolve. "And how to hit the target accurately."

Max took a step back, looking at me with genuine shock: "You want me to die for certain, don’t you, Julie?"

I said "Of course not! But no one will find out... it’ll be our secret."

He shook his head bitterly: "Believe me, Julie... even being ’gay’ in his eyes won’t stop Robert from killing me if he sees you holding a weapon because of me."

"Oh, Max," I said, trying to push past his fear with confidence. "Robert taught me how to hold a gun once. It doesn’t make him as angry as you think!"

Max gave me a piercing look, not believing a word I said. "Then... go ask him yourself," he replied coldly.

"What? Why would I ask him?"

"Because I can’t do this, Julie. I’m not putting my head on the guillotine again."

I sighed in frustration. "Fine, Max... I won’t pressure you." I left his room fuming, heading straight upstairs to the office. Maybe I’d find Robert there. I pushed the door open without thinking and found him sitting behind his desk, immersed in his tablet.

He looked up from the screen and said dryly: "Don’t you know how to knock, Julie?"

"I thought you weren’t here," I said with a fake pout.

He scrutinized my face, then his eyes drifted down to my clothes: "Did you go to exercise despite your fall yesterday?"

"No... no, I didn’t," I answered quickly.

"And these gym clothes... what’s the reason for them then?" he mocked, gesturing toward my body.

I gathered my courage, stood directly in front of him, and said: "Actually... I want to ask you for something."

He set the tablet down and interlaced his fingers on the desk: "What is it?"

"I want to learn how to use a weapon," I said clearly.

He raised an eyebrow, a look of shock crossing his face like I’d never seen before. "You? Learning to use a weapon?"

"Yes... why not?" I challenged.

"Why?" he asked coldly.

"To kill you!" I blurted out without thinking.

A sudden silence fell. I realized immediately that my joke was in poor taste and completely inappropriate. I quickly tried to fix it: "I’m just kidding... but, you know I’m going to stay here my whole life, and I sometimes think about becoming a ’Mafia Girl’."

Of course, I didn’t really want that I can’t stand the sight of blood but the idea intrigued me in a strange way.

"A Mafia Girl?" he repeated sarcastically.

I walked to the chair opposite him and sat down, painting the fantasy with my hands: "Yes... just imagine. You’re sitting in this chair, and I’m standing beside you, wearing a black leather jumpsuit..." I held my hands as if gripping an imaginary pistol, aiming it at the air. "I’m holding a gun... and anyone who doesn’t like what you say... BAM... I kill them just like that, in the blink of an eye!"

I ended with a spontaneous smile, the fantasy actually making me excited. I looked at Robert, but he was staring at me in total bewilderment, silent as if trying to process whether I had just lost my mind.

"What?" I snapped at his stare. "You don’t like the idea?"

"Were you taking any specific medications when you were at your father’s house?" he asked with an eerie seriousness.

"No... why?" I asked, confused.

He shook his head in pity. "I think you have a severe mental issue, and you need medication urgently before your condition worsens!"