My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2: 2/The Slap Of Rebellion

Chapter Two:

Julie’s point of view

It wasn’t just a fall; it was an explosion in my consciousness that refused to believe.

When my face collided with the marble, I heard a muffled sound inside my skull resembling the shattering of pottery.

Anxiety began to dance within me, enjoying the party.

The coldness of the floor was harsh, but it was the only medicine for my blood, which began to boil like a volcano under my skin.

I remained for seconds not knowing where I was; my vision was glued to the polished edges of the marble.

His iron grip was enough to stop time from moving.

The pain began to creep in slowly; my heartbeat migrated to my jaw, each pulse like the strike of a carpenter’s hammer on a nail.

I tasted the flavor of metal in my mouth; my blood was coming out like a heavy sap from my torn lip, coloring the whiteness of the marble with crimson drops that ruined the exaggerated cleanliness of the floor.

I tried to swallow my saliva, but my teeth were moving inside my gums. I felt a childish terror... will I lose my face? Is this the price I will pay for my father "selling" me? Am I now a damaged commodity whose place is the trash?

While I was drowning in my bloodstain, my ears could no longer hear anything but an annoying buzzing, until a strange vibration began to transmit through the marble to my skull.

It was the sound of a sharp heel striking the ground with a military and rapid rhythm, dripping with confidence and authority.

From my position, as I embraced the floor, I caught a glimpse of a pair of red shoes the color of blood; they were shining under the strong lighting.

Her words did not reach me at first, but her perfume did; she exuded a scent of ’heavy vanilla’ that mixed with the metallic taste in my mouth to make me nauseous. Then the silence was pierced by her sharp feminine scream:

"You wretch... what have you done?"

I felt her shadow covering my trembling body. I tried to lift my body a little and stop embracing the floor.

I caught sight of her short black dress which fit her perfectly, then her smooth short black hair, and a red lipstick that didn’t scream femininity but rather a warning.

She approached me, examining me with hands that made my body shiver—even the marble now seemed warmer! I saw the astonishment in her brown eyes; she wasn’t afraid for me, but she was afraid of something else different that I didn’t know.

Perhaps the fear of her savage boss who would punish her for not maintaining his expensive commodity.

She turned to the massive guard who was standing like a statue watching, or perhaps seeing the disaster his hands had committed. She said in a trembling voice:

"Bring the nurse now, hurry!"

The guard went with immense speed to bring help for me; anyone seeing him now wouldn’t believe that he was the one who hit me... yes, "he killed the victim and walked in her funeral."

The broken scents escalated to blend with one another; the smell was not acceptable, it had turned into a toxic and lethal gas poisoning everyone in the room.

I wondered about their prices, which exceeded my purchasing power many times over; I felt a sting in my heart as I saw them lost now.

"Come on, take my hand, I will help you up,"

she said this to me while extending her hand. Had I not touched her skin, which resembled my own, I would have thought her a robot disguised as a tan woman; her tan wasn’t dark but closely resembled the color of caramel.

She seated me on the bed covered in soft silk. Now I realized why this fabric is expensive; my eyes now want to sleep despite all this massacre.

This is how girls are lulled to sleep here, with luxurious and soft things they have never seen in their entire lives. It is like tasting drugs; even though they kill you, you get used to them and cannot live without them.

I said to her, my eyes announcing the closing of the curtain after the play ended:

"Is this silk fabric or a sedative pill?"

She looked at me with surprise and said indifferently:

"I am Olivia, the supervisor responsible for training all the girls here, and I will be your supervisor who makes you a female in every sense of the word."

I laughed despite myself and said:

"You mean a high-quality commodity."

The silk turned into a black hole that swallowed me without realization. I couldn’t find any other justification; it is impossible for a person about to be sold to sleep this deeply in the midst of all this collapse that occurred.

Voices began to rise within that blackness; I couldn’t distinguish them, they were very far, unrecognizable, mixed with the smell of hospitals. Then suddenly the voices began to approach and become clearer:

"How much time is needed for the bruise to disappear from her face and her lip wound to heal?"

This voice was familiar; yes, it was the voice of the caramel woman. A strange female voice I didn’t know replied to her:

"Two weeks, Madam, and her face will return to its normal state."

Umm, so they are now discussing the subject of my disfigured face. The caramel woman answered with extreme tension:

"This will not please Mr. Robert at all."

I opened my eyes with extreme difficulty; I glimpsed the ceiling decorated and engraved with golden lines how beautiful it looks from here, as if I were in an old Victorian palace.

I felt a sting in the right side of my face; I touched it with my hand, thinking this would ease the pain. There was a bandage preventing my hand from reaching it.

I tried to rise from the bed with my weak hands; damn, all my strength had failed, and I am now like a phone whose battery has run out.

I tried several times while Olivia was busy calculating my healing time, and perhaps now she is looking for a miracle or magic to make my face whole again.

Finally, I was able to sit up on the bed; this was the most my body could do. Olivia was conducting a deep conversation with a woman wearing a white nurse’s uniform; her skin was as white as her uniform, and she gathered her blonde hair perfectly.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify