My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 214

Chapter 214: 214/Flashback (1)

Chapter 214: Flashback – The Birth of a Lie

Author’s POV (23 Years Ago)

Morgan sat frozen in the driver’s seat, his eyes glued to Violet as she entered the house and shut the door behind her. A profound silence enveloped him, broken only by the sound of his own erratic breathing.

His fingers moved instinctively to touch his lips; he could still feel the lingering heat of hers, unable to grasp the reality that he had just kissed her.

Just as he was about to turn the key in the ignition, the passenger door swung open. Violet leaned in through the window, her voice ringing with a newfound, sharp confidence. "Save my number." Morgan went still, hardly believing his ears.

Was she giving it to him just like that? He scrambled to punch the digits into his phone as she recited them in a low, melodic tone. The second he finished, she slammed the door and vanished back inside the house.

Inside, Meredith leaned her back against the door, her heart hammering against her ribs like a war drum. She was in a daze, unable to comprehend what had just come over her or how she had surrendered to that moment.

She stumbled up the stairs toward her room, ignoring her mother’s repeated calls. Her mind was a whirlwind, filled only with the taste of that kiss and the way her body had ignited under Morgan’s touch.

Standing before the mirror, she stared at her reflection with haunted eyes. Suddenly, she raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap to her own face.

The crack echoed through the room. She let out a muffled whimper, clutching her reddened cheek as she whispered to herself in pure self-loathing, "Yes... I deserve that. I’m engaged... how could I kiss a stranger?"

Bitter self-reproach began to consume her, not just because of the kiss, but because she was drowning in the lie of her identity. She had told him she was Violet when she was Meredith. "You are Meredith, not Violet," she hissed at her reflection.

Yet, a strange euphoria surged through her veins; being "Violet" made her feel, for the first time, like she had worth like she was beautiful and desired in the eyes of men.

She recalled bitterly how she once thought her sister had survived that rapist by a miracle, but today she discovered the truth: fate always favored Violet, granting her "guardian angels" to save her. That was why Violet had stayed out and lied about being at the university while she was actually at a hotel.

Meredith’s features twisted with venom. "That damn Violet... it’s because of her that Stewart is in prison." Stewart had gone to the restaurant that fateful night after Thomas, Morgan, and Violet had left, only to find the owner’s lifeless corpse.

Because of a tip-off about a gunshot, the police raided the place and found him there. He was the only suspect, and they hauled him away.

Meredith sat on the edge of her bed, clutching the duvet as she plotted. The only way to save her fiancé, Stewart, was to keep playing the part of Violet for Morgan. "Yes... I will just act," she whispered with cold resolve.

She refused to admit there was another motive that deep down, she had always wanted to be her.

She ripped the metal bracelet from her wrist the one with her name clearly engraved and shoved it into the bedside drawer with a violence that felt like shedding her old skin. She didn’t want to be Meredith anymore; she would only be "Violet."

Suddenly, her bedroom door burst open. Her mother walked in, looking exhausted and frustrated. "Meredith, didn’t you hear me calling you?"

Meredith turned to her with icy indifference. "What is it?"

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