My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 149

Chapter 149: 149/The Secret Armory

Chapter 149

Robert’s Point of View

This girl never ceases to surprise me with ideas that often defy the boundaries of logic.

I looked at her; she was fuming, her chest heaving with sharp, jagged breaths: "Are you saying I’m insane? What do you expect me to do in this godforsaken place? Just sit around like a fool?"

I leaned back in my chair, my tone provocatively calm: "You are my personal assistant, Julie. You already have work to do."

"Personal assistant?" she shot back with biting sarcasm, crossing her arms. "Doing what? Bringing you a cup of coffee so I can burn you with it?"

I couldn’t help a cold smirk as the memory of that incident flashed by. "A cup of coffee and you burned me... if you held a gun, I suspect no one in this club would be left alive."

She huffed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear with a nervous, jerky motion: "It was an accident. Don’t exaggerate!"

I fell silent for a moment, scrutinizing her earnest features. There was a spark of defiance in her eyes that was impossible to ignore. I asked in a lowered voice: "Do you want this that badly?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "I want to learn."

I knew perfectly well this wasn’t a good idea.

Putting a weapon in the hands of someone as rebellious as Julie was bordering on suicide. Yet, I found myself weakening before her persistence in a way that made me comply almost unconsciously. I stood up from behind my desk and said curtly: "Let’s go."

She stood up quickly, her eyes widening in disbelief at my sudden surrender: "You’re really going to let me?"

"Yes," I said, walking toward the door.

She stopped abruptly, asking cautiously: "And are you the one who will teach me?"

I turned, raising an eyebrow in disapproval: "Yes... were you expecting someone else for the job?"

She faltered, her fingers twitching nervously: "No... I just asked."

We descended to the lower floor and headed toward the gym. She looked around skeptically: "Are you going to teach me here?"

"Just follow me," I said, nodding toward the wall.

I walked to the wooden paneling on the right side and pressed a small button hidden masterfully in the corner. Suddenly, a section of the wall shifted with a faint mechanical hum, sliding open.

Julie froze, astonishment painting a picture on her face: "Is that a secret door?"

"Yes," I said with a cryptic smile, gesturing for her to move forward. "Come on. Step inside."

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Julie’s Point of View

The idea of Robert being the one to teach me wasn’t a good idea at all. I had expected him to just give me permission so I could go back and beg Max to train me, but his decision caught me off guard.

When that secret door opened, I felt a surge of stupidity how many hours had I spent training in this gym without noticing this hidden passage?

I followed him into a vast white room.

The opposing walls were lined with weapons of every type and caliber, arranged with a terrifying precision that looked like an exhibition for death. If a war broke out here in New York, this arsenal alone could arm half the city.

On the far side stood wooden silhouettes of human targets, waiting for lead.

"Are you ready?" Robert asked in a quiet tone.

I nodded, still trying to process the environment. He walked to the wall and pulled down a small black pistol, its weight looking suitable for my hand. "This is good for your initial training," he said.

He positioned me at a specific point, handed me the weapon, and stood directly behind me. In that moment, my body went rigid. He was so close just like the day he kissed me.

I felt a sudden heat racing through my veins, and my breath hitched. His proximity triggered conflicting emotions fear laced with something else I didn’t yet understand.

I shook my head violently to clear my thoughts while he whispered in my ear, his voice deep and resonant: "Do you remember what I told you last time?"

"Yes," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Steady the weapon, flip the safety, lock my eyes on the target, and pull the trigger."

Hearing myself speak those words made me recoil inwardly; I remembered every syllable he’d told me as if it were engraved in my memory.

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