My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 295

Chapter 295: 295/The Sentence of Heaven

Chapter 295:

Julie’s POV

My facial features contorted completely, my voice emerging sharp, fractured, and flooded with a mixture of threat and absolute panic: "Steve! Where is Ethan?! Where is my son?! You promised me... you fucking swore to me that you wouldn’t let them take him away!"

He turned toward me with sluggish steps and a thoroughly broken frame, but he didn’t utter a single word. Instead, he bowed his head toward the floor, his muffled weeping intensifying as he covered his mouth with his palm. This silence of his was enough to wrench the final thread of denial from my mind, casting me straight into the hell of the bitter truth the very truth I had long fled from and mocked anyone who dared utter it. The cold crawled into the deepest depths of my bones, and I felt a burning lump in my throat, cutting into me like a razor blade with every single breath.

I recoiled backward until my spine collided with the iron edge of the medical bed, clawing my fingers violently and frantically into my hair as I shook my head left and right in hysterical refusal: "No... no, Steve! Tell me you are playing with me! Tell me they only took him to change his clothes! Ethan didn’t die... my son cannot die and leave me entirely alone in this miserable world!"

Steve stepped toward me, his features completely mangled with grief. He dropped to his knees before the bed, firmly grasping my contorted hands in an attempt to restrain my panic attack, crying out in a weeping, shattered voice: "Julie, please! Stop ripping yourself apart! Ethan died before he ever saw the light... he died inside your own womb, sister! You have to accept the truth, he has gone to a better place."

My gaze froze instantly into the void, my movements locking up as if my very soul had vacated my body along with his words. The screams withered away from my throat, replaced by a terrifying numbness that crawled over every detail of my pale face. The tears finally cascaded... but they were no ordinary tears; they were hot, searing droplets like burning coals, bleeding in absolute silence over my cheeks and soaking into the fabric of my gown.

Slowly, I pulled away, drawing my hands out of his grip. I gathered my knees tightly against my chest, sitting in the corner of the bed, shaking violently and relentlessly. I felt my entire entity fading away, and every shred of hope and future I had meticulously woven in my imagination throughout those months was now buried beneath the cold tiles of this hospital. I shut my eyes with a raw force, wishing with all my heart that I had never awakened from that deep sleep.

I lifted my head with extreme slowness, as though my neck carried mountains of lead. I looked toward Steve, my eyes pooling with the hot tears that scorched my pale cheeks, and said in a choked, dead voice completely devoid of any pitch of life: "He died because of me... I am the one who killed him."

Steve’s features instantly locked, overtaken by a genuine terror. He shook his head in absolute, decisive refusal, recoiling a step back as if he had just received a physical blow, speaking in sheer dread with widening eyes: "What the fuck are you saying, Julie?! Don’t you dare utter such madness!"

My breath hitched in my chest, the airway narrowing inside my throat as a consuming desire to dissolve from existence and vanish entirely took hold of me. I continued through a bitter, gut-wrenching wail that tore at my exhausted insides: "I am the one who wanted to get rid of him and kill him in the beginning... don’t you remember? He died because heaven is punishing me. He didn’t want a cruel, hesitant mother like me. He abandoned me and his heartbeat stopped because, in the beginning, I didn’t want him inside my womb."

Steve rushed toward me with rapid, frantic steps, nearly tripping over himself from pure panic. He lunged over the medical bed with a violent momentum to wrap me in an absolute embrace, crushing my body which was twitching like a slaughtered bird against his broad chest.

He whispered, his tears soaking into my shoulder: "Julie, please... I beg of you, don’t say these cursed words... you are not the cause. This is fate, it was just his time!"

I forcefully shoved my face away from his shoulder, pressing my hands hard against his chest, gasping violently as my body writhed between his hands, trying to break free from his warm confinement: "No, it is the absolute truth! He left me alone and departed because I am not a good mother, and because I thought of aborting him once!"

He grabbed my arms with firm persistence, forcing me to stand up from the cold ground against my will, my body surrendered, heavy, and completely devoid of resistance like a dead corpse. He walked me with stumbling steps toward the main road until we climbed into the backseat of a taxi, leaving the place behind at a rapid pace. But my mind, my heart, and the spirit of my boy remained right there buried together beneath that damp soil.

We arrived at the house, a body moving completely without a soul, like a wooden puppet manipulated by strings. The moment we unlocked the door and stepped into the sorrowful living room, Madam Salma approached us, her features heavily draped in deep anxiety and grimness. She was moving left and right in front of me, speaking to me in a pleading, tender tone, urging me to find patience, but I remained with my sight fixed blankly into the void, locking my eyes onto an imaginary point on the wall. I couldn’t hear a single thing she was saying or repeating, as though a voice from the ancient past had completely silenced the entire world around me, rendering me entirely deaf.

The heavy minutes passed like years, until Madam Salma finally surrendered to my coldness, leaving the apartment and quietly pulling the wooden door shut behind her.

After her departure, Steve approached and sat in the spot directly adjacent to me on the sofa. He stared intently into my glassy, expressionless eyes, speaking in a quiet, deep voice that carried a brand new resolve and a clear intention: "Julie... listen to me carefully. We are leaving this cursed place for good."

I moved my lips mechanically with a dry friction, and without looking at him or even blinking, I muttered in a dead, faint pitch: "Whatever you wish... it no longer matters."

He took a deep breath, filling his burdened chest, and continued as he tightly interlaced his fingers in front of his knees: "When I ran away from home in the past, when I was a kid, I settled in a town called ’Bay Shore’... it’s a small, quiet town, completely hidden from sight. We will live there, in the house of my old friend, Jake."

I closed my eyes with extreme slowness, as if expelling the phantom of the room from my imagination. I leaned my head back against the cushion of the sofa, saying with the exact same coldness and indifference, without a single objection: "As you want... do whatever you see fit."