My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 106

Chapter 106: 107/Completely Naked

Chapter 107:

Julie’s Point of View

I pushed the door slowly, and I was greeted by the heavy scent of oud that always clings to Robert’s clothes, mixed with the smell of vintage tobacco that inhabits the corners of the place.

I closed the door behind me with cautious silence.

I bypassed the wide hall with its leather sofas and huge television and headed directly toward the bedroom; the most private place.

I opened the large wardrobe, and his luxurious suits and long coats appeared to me, lined up like majestic shadows in the darkness.

I passed my trembling hand between the fine fabrics, ignoring the sting of pain in my shoulders, but I found nothing.

I moved to the small table next to the wide bed, opening its drawers with eagerness mixed with fear, but they were empty except for some simple personal items.

I bit my lower lip anxiously and whispered to myself:

"Damn... where could I find it? A man like him must have an emergency phone hidden somewhere."

I dragged my exhausted body toward a luxurious black desk in the corner of the room.

I pulled the first drawer... nothing but stationery.

I pulled the second drawer slowly, and here the edge of a black metallic object gleamed under a pile of files.

My eyes widened with a spark of hope, and I muttered with suppressed joy:

"Oh... finally found you."

I reached out my hand eagerly, but as soon as my fingers touched the coldness of the metal and I pulled it out, my breath froze.

It wasn’t a phone... it was a heavy firearm.

I took it out of its place, and instead of feeling panic or throwing it away, I found my hand settling on it with a strangely steady grip.

Its texture was cold and hard, and those fine engravings carved on its handle were teasing the palm of my hand.

I raised it slightly, contemplating its black muzzle.

I felt a mysterious shiver running down my spine; it wasn’t fear, but a strange sense of power and control, a dark feeling for which I found no words in my dictionary to describe that suspicious euphoria that possessed me as I weighed that metallic death in my hands.

I walked with almost confident steps toward the huge mirror that occupied the wall of the room and stood contemplating my reflection while gripping the black weapon.

I raised it slowly and pointed its muzzle toward my image in the mirror, imagining his cold face there.

I said in a theatrical tone shrouded in hatred:

"Yes, Robert... do you have any last words to say before I kill you?"

I let out a suppressed wicked laugh, resembling the laughs of villains in the movies I used to watch, and completed in a sharp whisper:

"You didn’t expect that a girl like me would be the one to end your life, did you?"

But my imagination vanished in a moment when the sound of the doorknob clicking echoed.

Blood froze in my veins, and I barely felt my feet as they led me toward the large wardrobe.

I rushed inside while the weapon was still clutched in my hand, and closed the door behind me very slowly.

My heart was pounding against my chest with a force that almost tore my skin; I placed my eye on the small openings in the wood of the door and watched him enter.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify