My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 144

Chapter 144: 144/Raped by the Past

Chapter 144

Meredreth’s point of view( Julie’s mother)

I couldn’t stand to hear any more. Did we sell that brat to see hell, only for her to become the lady of the manor? I felt a bitterness worse than any liquor. I said in a final tone: "I’m going to my room now... I don’t want you disturbing me."

He stood up and walked toward me, trying to calm me down: "Meredith, calm down... I’ll come with you..."

I cut him off with a scream that shook the hallway: "I said I don’t want to be disturbed!"

I rushed to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass, entered my room, and locked the door. I threw myself onto the cold floor and poured the first glass. I never imagined I’d fail to make that slut suffer.

I hated her because she was the daughter of that snake who stole my life.

I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes, only for memories of Violet to assault me. She was always our father’s favorite since we were young.

Even though we looked so much alike that if it weren’t for that small "mole" on her neck, no one could tell us apart, the distinction was in their hearts.

My parents loved her; she was brilliant, studied hard, and got top grades, while I was the faded version... the stupid one who struggled to understand and learn, making the gap between us widen every day.

On high school graduation day, I barely scraped by, while she was top of the class. Even the most popular boys chased her, while I was the girl everyone bullied.

I hated her beyond description, especially when she went to the graduation party with Drake; she knew how much I liked him, yet she accepted his invitation immediately without a thought for my feelings.

After graduation, my father fell ill, and the expenses became exorbitant. I was forced to drop out of school, while she enjoyed a scholarship at a prestigious university only geniuses attend. I was forced to work as a waitress at just eighteen.

There, I met Stuart; he wasn’t bankrupt then; he owned a real estate office. Two months later, he proposed.

On my last day at the restaurant, I went to the manager’s office to ask for my pay and tell him I was getting married and quitting. But he forced me to work late, and since it was my last day, I accepted. When the work ended and the customers left, I headed to his office.

He was sitting on the leather sofa, wearing a black suit, smoking his cigarette with chilling coldness. He pushed his long hair back with his fingers and looked at me with his sharp black eyes: "You want your pay, don’t you?"

I nodded nervously: "Yes."

He gestured to the spot beside him: "Come here... beside me."

My body stiffened, and I felt a tremor in my legs: "It’s late... just give me my pay, sir, and I’ll go."

He said in a smooth, terrifying tone: "Come, Meredith... don’t be afraid."

I approached fearfully and sat on the edge of the sofa. I said again: "Please, sir, give me my pay so I can leave."

He didn’t answer; instead, his eyes traveled over my thighs with a look that made my skin crawl.

I tried in vain to pull my short skirt down, but it wouldn’t budge. Suddenly, he placed his massive hand on my thigh and whispered in a voice that made my heart drop to my feet: "Since the first day you came here... I’ve wanted you, Meredith."

He backed away, wiping the blood from his mouth, then raised his hand and struck me with a ringing slap across my face that made my vision go dark: "You whore!"

He didn’t give me a chance to recover; he took my torn shirt and tied my hands tightly behind my back, then stripped off my skirt and my underwear with sharp movements.

I sobbed bitterly and said pleadingly: "Let me go... please."

He didn’t care; he pulled my hips toward him and began to lick my cunt. I felt shattered and torn with every touch; pain and disgust were devouring my soul.

He would slap me every time I tried to shrink away, commanding me in an authoritative tone: "Moan! Make me feel like you’re enjoying it!"

He stripped off his trousers and shoved his dick violently inside my cunt. I let out a muffled scream, feeling a sharp tearing as he passed inside me.

He wasn’t satisfied with that; he pulled it out and shoved it into my mouth while pulling my hair back with a force that made my scalp burn. He said mockingly: "Do you like the taste, my beautiful whore?"

His dick was choking me, shoving it so deep I felt I would vomit, and I had nothing but the tears wetting my face while my hands were tied. After this agony, he pulled his dick from my mouth. I thought the hell had ended, but he flipped me over harshly onto my stomach.

He shoved his dick into my ass suddenly; I let out a loud scream that shook the room. He was thrusting it in with successive, rapid violence. I felt as if I were being split in two.

He was slapping my ass hard and digging his nails into my skin, while he inserted his fingers into my cunt and began to Thrusting them inside me, making the pain double between my two openings.

He pulled his dick from my ass and returned it violently into my cunt, to pour all his milk inside me. Then he left me, my strength depleted, my body and soul broken on that cursed sofa, like a lifeless corpse with nothing left but moans.