My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10: 10/The Legacy Of Pain

Chapter Ten

Julie’s Point of View

The woman in her forties peered from behind the door, her features frozen and unreadable, dragging a silver food trolley whose wheels emitted a sharp screeching sound in the silence of the shattered room.

She entered with a coldness as if she did not see the piles of torn silk spread across the floor, nor smell the scent of anger still lingering in the air.

With monotonous and dull movements, she replaced the new trolley with the one she had left yesterday, then turned and exited without uttering a single word, as if I were merely another piece of furniture in this room.

I approached the trolley with cautious steps, as if I expected it to explode in my face, but what I saw made my stomach contract with an irresistible hunger.

There were fried eggs smelling of butter, pieces of carefully seasoned grilled meat, and small dishes containing every type of olive imaginable, alongside a glass of fresh juice.

I took a step back, and my desire for food suddenly vanished, replaced by a cold shiver.

I looked at the tin of caviar and the grilled meat with lethal suspicion; after I had screamed in Robert’s face, struck his desk, and sworn that I would never wear the clothes of whores even if I tore off my own skin... could it be possible that he was rewarding me with this banquet?

This stillness is unnatural; it is a silence that swallows the breath.

Does he want to poison me to find relief from my stubbornness? Or does this food contain some kind of sedative, so they can do to me while I am unconscious what they failed to do while I was awake?

I remembered the nurse’s threat with the needle, and I felt that every bite on this trolley might be the price I would pay for the dignity I had squandered before them.

In my eyes, the caviar began to look like snake eggs, and the delicious scent of meat turned in my nostrils into the smell of treachery.

I surrendered to the call of my intestines, which had become louder than the voice of my fears, and I said to myself with bitter sarcasm:

"Julie... at least you will die full, and it will be a quick and painless death compared to what they might do to you while you are alive."

I rushed toward the trolley and began to devour the fried eggs and grilled meat with the greed of someone lost in the desert.

Then I reached that golden tin; I took a spoonful of caviar and put it in my mouth with anticipation, but as soon as it touched my tongue with its salty and strange taste, I spat it out immediately with disgust! Damn them and their taste... how do they eat this disgusting thing? It tasted worse than the smell of disinfectants in that clinic.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and felt a strange strength flowing through my body; a strength born of satiety, and from the fact that I was still breathing despite all those dark suspicions.

I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling as if my stomach would burst from how much I had eaten. The minutes passed slowly, and nothing happened; no cramps, no nausea, and no quick death as I had wished.

It seems I have started imagining many things since I entered this cursed place, to the point where I have begun to see poison in honey and treachery in every dish.

I looked at the wreckage of the room around me, and at the caviar I had spat on the ground, and felt the insignificance of all this extravagance in the face of the feeling of siege that suffocates me.

My eyes became fixed on that pink dress lying amidst the wreckage, and the wall of time collapsed.

I found myself a child of eight, standing amidst the noise of a school party, with all eyes directed toward the strawberry cake stain that marred my dress.

At that moment, I did not see the laughing faces of my classmates, but rather my father’s stern face as he waved his finger warningly:

"Don’t you dare stain it, I will return it to the store as soon as you are finished."

From the sheer terror that froze the blood in my veins, I felt that warm and humiliating wetness seeping down my legs; my body had betrayed me and I had urinated on myself in front of everyone.

Teacher Silva came over crying out with concern:

"Julie... what is wrong, dear?",

but I did not answer; the words were stuck in my throat like piercing thorns. I knew for certain that I would not return home in peace, and that my father would kill me because I had ruined the "trust."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify