My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 225

Chapter 225: 225/Flashback (7)

Chapter 225: Flashback – The Lady in Red

Author’s POV (23 Years Ago)

Suddenly, and completely unexpectedly, the black horse that had been trailing in last place began to tear through the pack with a ferocious intensity. Thomas’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening as he watched the horse surge forward like a poisoned arrow.

The rhythm of its hooves quickened, striking the earth with a violent force, and the crowd erupted into a hysterical frenzy at this unfolding miracle.

While the world around her boiled with excitement, Violet remained perfectly still a marble statue amidst the chaos. Her eyes were fixed on the black horse as it skillfully overtook every competitor, crossing the finish line in a crushing victory. Everyone was stunned.

Thomas, unable to contain his thrill, impulsively moved to embrace Violet, but with a swift, fluid motion, she sensed his intent. She leaned away effortlessly, dodging his touch with a grace that made his gesture vanish into thin air.

"Congratulations, Thomas," she said in a poised tone. "You won the bet."

Thomas swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. "How did you know?" he asked, breathless.

Violet tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her expression serene. "Know what?"

"That he would win. Everyone was betting against him."

She turned away coolly, watching the horses as they began to calm and return to their stalls. "I told you," she replied with total indifference. "I just liked the color."

Morgan watched the scene from behind them, astonishment etched into his features.

Had Violet really chosen this outcast horse that had never tasted victory? A sudden pulse of admiration pierced his chest. Despite his efforts to remind himself she was a "whore," his heart betrayed him, thumping with an intensity he had never felt before.

Violet turned toward them, adjusting her bag. "Thank you, Thomas. This place is truly wonderful, but I must leave now."

Thomas caught her arm lightly. "No! We have to celebrate this magnificent win!"

Violet looked directly at Morgan. Their eyes locked in a long, ambiguous gaze. "I can’t," she said with a mysterious smile. "I have something very important to attend to tonight."

Morgan’s body stiffened. He knew instantly she was referring to their rendezvous. A cocktail of resentment and desire ignited in his blood, while Thomas stood between them, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the shadows.

Violet entered her home with swift steps. She headed straight for the shower to wash away the day’s fatigue, then dried her hair and opened her wardrobe with resolve.

She pulled out a short red dress with thin straps a gift from her mother for her last birthday that had only touched her skin once before.

In that moment, her mother entered the room. Her eyes lingered on the dress.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"The girls asked me to go out with them," Violet replied, inspecting the fabric.

"Don’t be late," her mother cautioned.

"I won’t be, Mom," Violet answered without looking back.

"Dinner is ready," the mother added.

"I have no appetite," was Violet’s swift reply.

Her mother approached with concern. "Are you ill?"

"No, I just ate out," Violet said calmly.

Once her mother left, Violet resumed her ritual. The dress hugged her curves with precision.

She applied makeup that accentuated the sharpness of her eyes and the beauty of her features, let her hair fall freely over her shoulders, stepped into her high heels, and spritzed her fragrant perfume.

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