My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 124

Chapter 124: 125/Scattered Memories

Chapter 125:

Robert’s Point of View

I sat before my father, and the charged silence between us weighed down the air in the room; nothing binds me to this man except that cursed blood running in our veins.

I listened to his advice, which carried no meaning for me, then I asked him in a dry tone while interlocking my fingers over the table: "Did you come here to talk about my personal assistant?"

My father fixed his gaze into my eyes and said sternly: "I am only advising you... this girl, Robert, will make you weak."

My jaw muscles tensed, and I let out a short, mocking laugh that didn’t reach my eyes: "I am thirty years old... haven’t you seen that I am too old for your advice?"

He replied with a coldness that provoked my stillness: "You are my son, and you will always remain small in my eyes."

My features tilted toward harshness, and I felt an old bitterness invading my throat, so I said sarcastically: "Shouldn’t you have offered your advice when I needed you as a young child... Father?"

"Robert... you don’t know anything; you don’t know my circumstances," he said, moving his hand on the armrest of his wheelchair in agitation.

I jumped up in my place, feeling the pulse of anger striking my temples: "Your circumstances don’t interest me! You lost your right to be my father... you killed her! Because of you, she died!"

"I didn’t do anything to her!" he replied in a tone that tried to defend itself but sounded shaky.

I exhaled my breath in frustration and stood leaning my hands on the desk, tilting my body toward him: "What brought you here? Come on... I don’t have time."

He asked me about my hatred for Harold and about the loneliness I live in away from the family. A cold and provocative smile formed on my face: "I like my life this way."

I stood up completely and straightened the hem of my suit jacket with total coldness: "I am busy now... I will tell the guards to assist you out of the club." I headed toward the door with rapid strides, but his voice stopped me like an arrow in my back: "Robert... stay away from that girl; love will destroy you."

My hand froze on the door handle for a second, and I swallowed my anger with difficulty without turning to him. I went out and closed the door behind me forcefully. I found "Ron" standing nearby, so I pointed to him sharply, my thumb pointing inside: "Help my father out of the club... now."

-------------------------------

Julie’s Point of View

I was walking back and forth in the room, my rapid steps leaving a rhythmic sound on the wooden floor.

I was biting my nails in tension, feeling a coldness coursing through my limbs whenever I remembered that man’s features: "His father!" My God, how did I fall into this trap? Damn my naivety and my tongue that always precedes my mind.

Suddenly, the door handle vibrated and opened violently, and Robert entered with his massive body that filled the place with prestige and awe.

He closed the door behind him with a single slam that made me jump in my place, and I froze where I stood.

His gaze was sharp as blades, and he said in an commanding and dry tone: "I want to ask you some questions."

I swallowed my saliva with difficulty, feeling my heart drumming against my ribs; did his father tell him everything? Will he crush me now? I nodded slowly, while my hands were trembling behind my back.

"Yesterday at the party... what did you drink?" he asked as he took a step toward me. I raised my gaze to him and answered in a faint voice: "Two glasses of wine."

He narrowed his eyes and asked again, monitoring my facial reaction precisely: "Did you not eat anything else?"

I said quickly: "No, I didn’t." But suddenly, a blurred scene flashed in my memory; that girl and the small candy.

I felt a sting in my stomach and said hesitantly: "I remembered... I only ate a piece of candy... why do you ask?"

His facial expressions changed immediately; his jaw muscles tensed and his eyes flashed with a sharpness that terrified me.

He rushed toward me to stand directly in front of me, then said in a hoarse voice full of threat: "Who gave it to you?"

I said in a trembling tone, trying to feel for the threads of my lost memory: "I don’t know who she is... but Sarah was with me, maybe she knows her."

Robert suddenly turned, heading toward the door with wide strides. I felt a overwhelming desire to confront him before he escaped. I shouted sharply: "Stop! I want to talk to you!"

His massive body stopped, and he turned to me with a cold, brief look, asking: "What?"

I felt the blood flow to my face with an embarrassing heat, and I lowered my gaze to the floor while rubbing my hands in agitation: "Did... did I get drunk yesterday too? I don’t remember exactly what happened, but I remembered that I... that I took off my dress in your room."

Not a single muscle in his face moved, as if he hadn’t heard my shameful confession.

He said with stillness while holding the door handle: "You can rest in the room today; I won’t need you."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify