My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 167/The Forbidden Rules

Chapter 167

Olivia’s Point of View

I opened the apartment door and walked in, with Steve following me with his steady, confident strides.

He closed the door behind him while I headed toward the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water, trying to soothe the turmoil that had settled within me since leaving the club.

He followed me and stood directly behind me; I felt the heat of his body nearing my back. He placed his hands on my waist and pulled me toward him with a sudden gentleness, whispering in my ear in a warm tone, "You look very exhausted tonight, Olivia... what’s on your mind?"

"Nothing, Steve," I said, trying to maintain my composure.

He turned me around to face him, staring into my eyes with his forest-green gaze, and said in a suspicious tone, "You’re not good at lying to me... your eyes say something else."

I exhaled in frustration, pushed his hand away, and said firmly, "Steve, please... I’m not in the mood for an interrogation right now."

He gave a cryptic, lopsided smile, then walked over to the sofa and sat back relaxedly. "Fine, I won’t press you... but remember that I’m here for you."

I sat in the chair opposite him, studying his sharp features. Steve was something without a label; our relationship had no name, and even I didn’t know how to define it.

My relationship with him was the only area where I felt some measure of control away from Robert’s world; he was the only one who reminded me that I was a desired woman.

"Why did you come tonight specifically?" I asked suddenly.

"Because I missed you," he said simply.

I let out a cynical laugh. "Really?"

He rose from his seat and came beside me, slowly running his thumb over my thigh with a touch that burned my skin until it reached the edge of my short dress. "Do you want me to prove it to you?"

"I’m not in the mood, Steve," I said, trying to resist the feel of his hand.

He suddenly forced my thighs apart with power and said in a confident voice, "I’ll fix your mood."

"I don’t think you can," I challenged.

Without any preamble, he slid his fingers inside my underwear and began to stroke my pussy with a skill that made me close my eyes. I felt the heat surge through my body all at once. "You know very well that I can, Liv," he said, watching my body’s reaction.

I sighed as I felt his touch taking control over me. "I told you not to call me that."

"How should I call you then?" he whispered, moving closer.

He pushed his fingers deep inside my pussy, and a moan escaped me against my will. My body jolted. "Call me... Olivia," I said in a fragmented voice.

"I’ll call you whatever you wish," he said in a submissive tone laced with desire.

But I suddenly felt a suffocating tightness; I wrenched his hand away from me with force and stood up, saying coldly, "Steve... leave."

He stood up quickly as well, grabbing my shoulders to face me, asking in confusion and worry, "What’s wrong? What happened?"

I looked away from him and said with dwindling patience, "I don’t like you coming to my house without telling me."

"Is that what’s bothering you?" he replied, tightening his grip on my shoulders gently. "I just missed you and came to see you."

I turned to him sharply. "Don’t miss me, Steve! What’s between us doesn’t warrant missing me."

He exhaled in frustration. "Are we going back to this subject every single time, Olivia?"

"Yes," I answered sternly, "because you misunderstand our relationship and act strangely."

"What am I doing?" he asked sharply, leaning into my face. "I know we’re just having sex; that’s what you told me... nothing more."

"Yes," I said, pointing my finger at him, "but you don’t seem like you’re just having sex with me, Steve."

"What do I seem like then?" he challenged.

"You seem like you’re giving this relationship a name," I said bitterly. "You want to be more than just someone who fucks me."

"And is that wrong?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with suppressed emotions.

"Yes, a huge mistake!" I told him, the blood boiling in my veins. "You know nothing about me. What do I do for a living? What do I do with my time? And I know nothing about you. Do you remember the rules? No questions, no love, no attraction, nothing... just sex!"

"A whole year we’ve been together..." he replied with a sense of defeat, closing the distance between us. "Hasn’t it been long enough to change the rules?"

I looked directly into his eyes with stolidness and said the words I knew would hurt him: "I’m years older than you, Steve, and I love another man."

He stepped toward me sharply until my chest collided with his. "Don’t say that!" he said in an angry tone. "Don’t say you love someone else!"

"It’s the truth, Steve. You just don’t want to accept it," I challenged, despite the trembling in my body.

He cornered me in his arms and whispered in my ear in a husky voice that sent shivers down my spine, "I’m the real one here, Olivia... Me, not him."

Then he began kissing me with violence and longing, and I felt his strength overriding my senses.

At that moment, my resistance faded and my walls crumbled before his familiar touch. I surrendered to him completely.

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Robert’s Point of View

Carlos was still stunned, the shock written all over his face as I recounted the details of what had happened. "What?" he asked in disbelief. "That madwoman wasn’t actually drunk?"

"No, she wasn’t," I answered bitterly, gripping the steering wheel.

"But what’s her goal?" he asked in confusion.

"Her goal is for me to marry her," I said stolidly.

"What?!" Carlos shouted in shock.

"She thinks her father knowing about our old relationship will change anything," I added, explaining the filthy game.

"Are you sure her father won’t force you to marry his daughter?" he asked worriedly, watching my rigid features.

I turned to him with a sharp look and said with absolute finality, "Carlos, I’d put a bullet in my head before I marry... not just her, but any woman in the world."

"Do you still not want to get married?" he asked with a faint smile.

I looked at him mockingly. "Look who’s asking! The man who’s forty years old and still a bachelor!"

"Enough, Robert," he complained, looking away. "You always turn things back on me."

I braked the car violently in front of the club entrance. "Get out, we’re here."

We headed inside, and I led him straight toward the hallway, gesturing with my hand. "This is the doctor’s room. Go on in."

He opened the door and turned to me. "Fine. When I’m done, I’ll come to your office."

"Haven’t you had enough of seeing me?" I asked sarcastically.

"I haven’t given you a goodnight kiss yet," he joked with a wink.

I laughed in spite of myself at his ridiculous joke, then left him and walked down the hallway. A sudden urge to go in and see Julie hit me; I told myself she was probably asleep by now, so I’d go in quietly and take a quick look at her.

I turned the doorknob slowly and opened it, but the scene that greeted me wasn’t of Julie sleeping peacefully. I found her kneeling on the floor, gathering scattered red roses and ceramic shards.

The moment she saw me, she jolted, a clear panic appearing on her pale face.

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"The vase fell from my hand," she answered in a trembling voice, avoiding my eyes.

It wasn’t just the ceramic pieces and the roses that caught my attention. I caught sight of two wine bottles and two glasses left carelessly. I felt a sudden boiling in my blood, and I stepped toward her with slow, terrifying strides.

I moved closer until I felt her body shivering, and then I asked in a voice that dropped to a snake-like hiss:

"What is this?"

I lifted my gaze to sweep the room sharply, asking the question I feared the answer to:

"Who was in your room?"