My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 298

Chapter 298: 298/The Daily Ritual

Chapter 298:

Julie’s POV

I stepped forward into the depths of the shop with calm, measured, and graceful strides, carefully setting my small brown leather purse onto a side wooden shelf. With a newfound confidence, I advanced toward the large workbench, my nimble fingers well-accustomed to this craft over the passing days beginning to arrange the colorful flower stems, glistening with morning dew, inside the large glass vases. Madam Sophia locked her sapphire blue eyes onto me, a sly, meaningful smile drenched in pure amusement carving her glossy lips as she inquired in a quiet pitch: "Do you know, Julie, exactly who is going to walk through that door right now to purchase flowers, as per his absolute daily ritual?"

The hand holding a stem of tulips froze for a fraction of a second. I turned my entire body toward her, my brows knitted in pure bewilderment, and asked inquisitively: "Who?"

Sophia adjusted her seating position upon her chair, stacking one palm over the other as she spoke in a tone heavy with obvious undertones: "Who else takes the absolute trouble to walk all the way here every single early morning just to buy a bouquet of fresh flowers, Julie? Use that little brain of yours for a second."

At that exact moment, before I could utter a single word, the brass door handle turned with force, shaking the tiny entrance bell, and Mike walked in. He stood straight with an imposing, towering frame that nearly blocked the horizon, his stark, rugged masculine features fully defined by his thick, meticulously styled black hair and his piercing, deep black eyes eyes that locked directly and instantly onto mine the second he crossed the threshold. He relaxed his broad shoulders, casting away his tension, and spoke in a warm, resonant pitch: "Good morning, ladies."

I gave a gentle, cautious nod of my head, brushing past my locks, and replied quietly: "Good morning, Mike."

He took a wide, bold stride toward the workbench where I stood, scrutinizing the details of my face with such absolute intensity as if reading my very features. He spoke in a low voice weighted with a masculine rasp: "How are you doing today, Julie? I hope you are well."

I adjusted the arrangement of a marigold bouquet sitting right before me to evade his concentrated gaze, offering a cold, polite smile: "I’m well, Mike... and you? How are you and how is work?"

He countered swiftly, slipping his right hand into his trousers pocket with absolute comfort and confidence, his eyes never straying from me: "I’m doing well too, and miles better now."

Here, Madam Sophia did not miss the opportunity. She leaned her back entirely against the cushion of her chair, casting a shrewd, sharp, and intelligent look at him as she teased aloud: "Well now, Mike... we’ve been seeing you every single day coming to buy flowers with an endless passion! Did you open a botanical garden in your house without my knowledge?"

The features of Mike’s pale face flushed with a faint trace of embarrassment, his towering authority dissolving for a few seconds. He scratched the back of his head with his fingers like a child caught red-handed, muttering with a light stammer: "I... I just love flowers and taking care of them, Madam Sophia. There is nothing else to it."

Sophia released a light, ringing laugh that echoed through the nooks of the shop, countering with a gentle mockery: "Yes, perfectly obvious. A flower lover of unparalleled proportions."

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