My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 227

Chapter 227: 227/Flashback (8)

Chapter 227: Flashback – The Surgeon of Truth

Author’s POV (23 Years Ago)

Violet ran her delicate fingers over Morgan’s bare chest with a provocatively slow deliberation. She looked into his eyes with a gaze that ignited with defiance and whispered, "It’s getting warm in here... I think I should take off my dress."

She rose from her position over him with agile grace, standing before the bed where the light fell directly upon her. Her hand reached for the side zipper, pulling it down in one confident motion.

The red dress fell in a smooth, fluid slide, pooling at her feet. Morgan stared in disbelief, his breath hitching as he took in the details of her body; she was wearing provocative red lingerie that matched the dress, contrasting perfectly with her pale skin.

"I should tie my hair as well," she remarked, inspecting her strands. "I’ll go get a tie from my bag."

Morgan watched with hungry eyes as she strutted out of the room. Damn her, she was truly torturing him.

He felt the strain of the restraints on his wrists as he tried to move in vain; he couldn’t stand the thought of not touching her when she was this close. Questions whirled in his head like a hurricane: She wasn’t like this yesterday. Yesterday, she let him do whatever he wanted. Why was she refusing and playing with his nerves today?

Amidst his racing thoughts, Violet re-entered the room carrying her bag. She opened it calmly and pulled out a simple hair tie.

Lifting her arms high to gather her hair, she gave Morgan a clear view of her back. It was then that he noticed a tiny, dark mole at the nape of her neck a single point of attraction against the stark whiteness of her skin.

Violet tied her hair into a tight ponytail, then turned to him with a mysterious smile. Standing at the edge of the bed, she asked in a playful tone, "Now... what shall we do?"

"Really?" Morgan asked, his voice thick with a mix of irritation and desire as he strained against the ties. "Am I going to stay tied up like this?"

Violet leaned over him slowly, still clutching her bag. A secretive, knowing smile spread across her face. "I told you, I want you to be satisfied, Morgan," she said in a calm, steady voice.

She leaned in closer until her breath fanned his skin. She locked her gaze with his smoldering, confused gray eyes and whispered with absolute confidence, "I’ll make sure you never forget this night."

In the blink of an eye, Violet pulled a syringe from her bag and plunged it into Morgan’s arm in cold blood. Morgan jolted instinctively, trying to pull his arm away, but the restraints held him fast. "What did you do?!" he gasped, his breath hitching.

He barely finished his question before he felt a strange wave of coldness surging through the veins of his arm, crawling toward his chest like ice invading his blood. Suddenly, he found himself unable to speak; his tongue stiffened in his throat.

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