My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11: 11/Julie Tsunami

Chapter eleventh:

Robert’s Point of View

That wild courage that inhabits the body of a small gazelle piqued my curiosity and interest every time.

I watched her as she left my office with angry strides, after she had dared to challenge my authority in the heart of my own home.

I can still see the scene of her striking her small fist against my marble desk, and how she screamed with a boldness that the strongest of my men never dared:

"I will not wear the clothes of whores even if you strip my skin from my bones... do you understand?!"

At that moment, a hidden smile formed on my lips, a smile of admiration that I did not want to show.

Olivia stood there as if shell-shocked, watching the "tsunami" that was Julie sweeping through the room, before she bristled with rage and said in a sharp tone:

— "Mr. Robert, I will go to discipline this wretched girl immediately!"

Olivia took a few steps toward the door, but I stopped her with a single word, calm yet cutting like a knife:

— "Leave her alone."

She turned to me in shock, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets:

— "But Mr. Robert... she was insolent toward you and..."

I interrupted her with icy firmness, looking directly into her eyes:

— "You know, Olivia, that I do not like to discuss my orders."

The flame of anger in Olivia’s eyes went out, replaced by brokenness and submission. She took a step back and replied in a low voice:

— "Yes, Mr. Robert... as you wish."

After Olivia closed the door behind her, a comfortable silence prevailed in my office, but Julie’s ghost did not depart with her. I leaned my back against my leather chair and began thinking about that great "investment" I had bought from Stuart Michael.

I remembered her father’s face; that man who reeked of greed and confusion. I wondered how he could let go of her and sell her for such an amount! Yes, for a base and bankrupt man like him, the figure I paid was astronomical—a fortune he might not dream of seeing in ten lifetimes.

But for me? That amount equals nothing compared to her true value.

Stuart was a fool; he thought he was selling me just a beautiful girl with intact skin, not realizing he was handing me a burning soul and a rare beauty that grows more radiant with every cry of rebellion.

He saw her as a "burden" he wanted to get rid of, while I saw in her the "masterpiece" that would complete my collection.

I exhaled my cigar smoke while looking at the file bearing her name. I have closed deals worth billions of dollars, but my deals involving humans were always the most exciting.

And Stuart Michael, with his short-sightedness and greed, presented me with my greatest investment on a silver platter, without realizing that Julie is priceless.

A rhythmic knocking on the door interrupted my train of thought.

Before I granted permission to enter, I knew exactly who my expected guest was.

The heavy wooden double doors opened to admit the man who had long been a partner in my most complex deals.

I rose from my seat, painting that diplomatic smile on my face which I reserve for men like him, and said in a confident, welcoming tone:

— "Welcome,Carlos Mendoza... you have honored my office with your presence."

Carlos advanced with steady steps, prestige surrounding him like his shadow. He extended his hand to shake mine firmly, saying in a warm tone wrapped in years of acquaintance:

— "My dear Robert... I have truly missed you."

Carlos Mendoza represented raw power; this head of the Mexican Mafia does not move without a good reason, and our friendship, forged in blood and secret deals, created a language between us that no one else understands.

Carlos sat in the chair opposite me with total ease, placing his hand on the golden handle of his cane, and said in a deep voice mixed with his Mexican accent:

"We have secured the border route, Robert, but I came to hear from you about your next plan regarding the expansion into the ports... You seem distracted today; is there something occupying the mind of the most powerful man in this city?"

I painted a cold, neutral smile and shook my head in denial:

— "Nothing, my friend, just fatigue from some small side deals. Tell me more about the details of the new route."

I lit another cigar and gestured with my hand for him to continue.

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