My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 25

Chapter 25: 25/The Serpent’s Den

Chapter Twenty-Five:

Robert’s Point of View

I entered the club, my steps racing ahead of my breath.

My thoughts were clashing like raging waves over the fate of the drug shipment and the bad news Carlos Mendoza might bring that could turn the tables on us.

I was walking down the corridor with wide strides, my mind busy with calculations, when one of the guards intercepted my path and said in a tone filled with confusion and hesitation:

— "Mr. Robert.. Mr. Mendoza is in your office."

I continued my pace with quickened steps and answered him with sharp brevity:

"Yes, I know."

But he didn’t stop; he added a sentence that made the blood freeze in my veins and the chill of death run through my limbs:

— "The girl.. Julie is inside with him."

I froze in my place for a moment, as if the earth had suddenly tilted beneath me.

At first, I couldn’t comprehend the scale of the catastrophe.

That cursed girl.. how did she dare? And how was she able to get there in my absence? I cursed myself inwardly; everything happening was my fault.

I had underestimated her cunning intelligence and her ability to infiltrate.

With my own hand, I had handed her the key when I allowed her to move with more freedom, and now she had opened the doors of my authority for herself.

I lunged forward, running up the stairs, skipping six steps at a time.

The image of Carlos sitting with that rebel wouldn’t leave my imagination. I reached the office door, gripped the handle so hard I nearly crushed it, and threw it open with such force that the walls trembled.

The scene before me was enough to ignite an unquenchable fire in my chest.

She was perched with utter arrogance on my chair—the chair that no one in this club dares to touch—sipping coffee with a provocative coldness in my private office..

and with whom? With my guest and most dangerous partner, Carlos Mendoza.

With my stormy and powerful entrance, I saw a tremor strike her body.

Her hand shook, and the cup slipped from her fingers, shattering at her feet into shards of porcelain and coffee.

But my gaze was never on the debris; it was fixed on her eyes, trying to burn her far-reaching arrogance with my coldness.

I saw her skin turn a pale yellow, as if the blood had entirely migrated from her body in fear of the confrontation.

I closed the door behind me with a silence no less terrifying than a scream. I approached her with slow, heavy steps and said in a low voice:

— "Did you enjoy sitting in my chair, Julie?"

He stood up with a reactive speed. I saw her hands pressing nervously against my shirt, which she was wearing.

She said in a voice she tried with all her might to hide the tremor in, but it appeared with scandalous clarity:

— "I... I just felt bored."

Her words only fueled my burning rage. I felt I had completely lost the ability to control myself, and I said to her in a low, angry hiss:

— "Is my office an amusement park for you to vent your boredom?"

At that moment, the laughter of Carlos rang out; he had been watching us with enjoyment.

He tilted his head back slightly while stroking his mustache with his right hand and said in a sarcastic tone:

— "You should have seen, Robert, how she imitated the movement of your hand while signaling the guard to leave! She played the part so well that for a moment, I believed she was the one in command here."

It wasn’t funny to me at all. I had faced many difficulties today that weighed heavily on my shoulders, and I had no energy for laughter like Carlos. I gritted my teeth hard and said to her:

— "Did boredom make you play the game of the ’Lady’ here, Julie?"

I expected a biting response from her as usual, but she said nothing.

She remained silent as if the words had stiffened and evaporated from her throat. I stepped closer to her, until I felt my angry breath fanning her face, and said defiantly:

— "Has the cat got your tongue?"

But she continued to look at me in absolute silence, without uttering a single word. Then she began to withdraw calmly, heading toward the door.

I watched her silence and sudden brokenness, and how she had finally realized the magnitude of her mistake and committed to silence.

She opened the door, and before stepping out, she turned with complete composure and said in a voice that suddenly regained all its confidence:

— "It is not an amusement park.... it is a den of snakes."

She etched a mysterious smile at the last moment, then left the office, leaving behind a storm of questions.

What a cursed woman! She described my office as a den of snakes in front of my guest! I found myself speechless for moments from the sheer shock of her unending audacity.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify