My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 171/Unfinished Desires

Chapter 171

Julie’s Point of View

Everything was insane, surreal I can’t even find the words to describe it. I was savoring every single touch of his, his scent making me lose my mind.

How my body trembled under his fingers, and how the fire ignited within me as his lips trailed over my skin! I should have jolted, I should have resisted, I should have pushed him away... He was touching me, kissing me, undoing the buttons of my shirt, while I did absolutely nothing but revel in a feeling I had never experienced in my entire life.

He stopped suddenly. I lifted my head, and our eyes met. I wanted him desperately; I couldn’t take it anymore, but I lacked the courage to initiate. I didn’t have the nerve to reach out, pull him closer, and kiss him.

I looked at him with an immense hunger, with pure passion; he was the man who could make me burn without even touching me. Could he see it now? Could he sense that I was melting for him? For his voice, his movements, his scent, for the gaze that pierced through me, and for those lips I still hallucinate about their taste lingering in my memory like a curse.

I saw him leaning in... Damn, he’s going to kiss me! Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted. His nose brushed mine, and I gripped the edge of the desk tighter and tighter, waiting for him to make me drunk once again with his kiss... until I forgot my own name.

I held my breath completely, closing my eyes so tightly my lashes trembled. I waited for his lips to press against mine; there was only a single centimeter separating our worlds.

I waited and waited, the heat consuming my face, but nothing happened!

I opened my eyes slowly, only to see him pulling away with a lethal coldness. He stood up and straightened himself, adjusting his blazer as if brushing off every trace of me and the scent that had clung to him.

He walked with confident strides until he circled the desk. I couldn’t even turn my head to look at him; I remained frozen in place atop the desk, my shirt completely open, exposing my chest, waiting for him to end my agony or explain what was happening.

I heard the creak of the leather chair as it embraced his body, and then came his voice husky and cold as ice: "You can go."

I froze. What? Did he just say I had to leave? But why?! I wanted to scream in his face, to tell him: "Come back and finish what you started! Let me get my fill of you! Kiss me until my lips are swollen!" But I said nothing. I didn’t have the audacity, so I just sat there frozen, stunned by this sudden transformation.

His voice rang out again, sharper this time: "I said, leave the office!"

I felt an insult slice through my pride; he was asking me to leave so simply, while I had left my very soul on that desk! I slid off the desk mechanically, without looking back at him.

I couldn’t face him in such a broken state. I began fastening my buttons with trembling hands that could barely find the holes, then I headed for the door, opened it, and walked out without a word.

I hurried to my room and slammed the door behind me. I was beyond furious.

He thinks he’s punishing me by touching me, but the truth is, he punished me by stopping! Questions hammered against my brain like mallets: Why did he stop? What happened? Do I smell bad? I sniffed my shirt frantically; I didn’t smell bad.

Maybe he didn’t like me? Maybe I wasn’t what he expected, so he stopped?

I looked at myself in the mirror; my hair was a complete mess, and I was wearing loose satin pajamas that hid any curves.

I said to myself bitterly, "I don’t think this is the type he prefers. He certainly wouldn’t look at me in this disastrous state." I touched my long brown tresses, and suddenly, the image of "Sara" and her blonde hair leaped into my mind. Yes, he likes blonde hair, not brown! Do I have to dye it for him to love me?

I jerked my hair away violently and told myself angrily, "Enough, Julie! You’re going to drive yourself insane."

I sat on the edge of the bed, shaking, my heart aching with this mysterious pain: How did I fall in love with this man? How could I love him when he’s done nothing but terrible things to me? How could my heart beat for him? How could my body demand him with this much hunger? How did this happen?!

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Robert’s point of view

I had to stop; if I hadn’t, I would have done something utterly insane. It was torture pulling away from her. When I told her to leave, I caught the clear tremble in her hands and noticed how her entire body stiffened under my gaze.

But it was a necessity; continuing would have made things far worse.

"I don’t love her," I muttered to myself, as if trying to force my brain to believe the lie. Yes, I’m just attracted to her.

I swore I would never love any woman; I am the Mafia King, and the Mafia do not love women to do so is to become weak, and I will never be weak.

As I was trying to pull myself together and control my racing desires, the office door suddenly swung open, and my father rolled in on his wheelchair. I exhaled in frustration. "What is it now?"

He maneuvered his chair slowly toward the desk and said in a reproaching tone, "I’ve come to ask you about the disaster you’ve caused."

I furrowed my brows. "What disaster?"

"Jax’s daughter," he snapped. "The one whose house you were at last night."

"There is nothing between us," I replied coldly.

My father slammed his fist onto the armrest of his chair. "Weren’t you about to fuck her last night? Do I look like a fool to you?" 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"It was an old relationship, and it’s over," I said, trying to end the argument.

"The result is the same," he countered sternly. "You fucked his daughter!"

"What do you want? Just say it," I said with dwindling patience.

"Jax wants you to make your relationship with his daughter official," he said with an eerie calmness.

I jolted from my seat. "That will never happen!"

My father watched my reaction closely. "Why? His daughter is beautiful, and you clearly liked her since you were with her. So, why not?"

"You know very well I’m not getting married," I stated with absolute finality.

He stared at me for a long time, then suddenly asked a question that struck me where it hurt most: "And that girl... Julie? Are you going to marry her?"

The question was so unexpected that I couldn’t find an immediate answer; I felt my heart falter. "Well?" he pressed. "Are you going to marry her?"

"Enough with this nonsense!" I said, trying to escape his gaze.

But he persisted. "Are you going to marry that girl, Robert?"

"No... I won’t!" I shouted at him with suppressed rage.

He nodded slowly. "Good. Now, moving on to Don Morgan I heard he stole your shipment."

"I got it back," I challenged.

"You can’t face him right now," my father warned.

"Why?" I asked sarcastically. "Do you see me as weak?"

He fixed his harsh, piercing gaze on me and spoke with a cutting honesty: "Yes... that girl has become your weakness. It’s only a matter of time before the Don finds out and uses her against you."