My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3: 3/Humiliated Pride

Chapter Three:

Robert’s Point of View

I didn’t expect to be slapped by a little girl. The slap had little effect on my face, but its impact inside me awakened all my senses and made me surprised by her ability to confront me.

It wasn’t a painful slap; it was like a cold sting on my face, but it carried all the signs of a rebellion that had crossed the lines by many stages.

Her voice, which woke the beast inside me from its slumber, pushed me to resist it so that it wouldn’t appear in public.

I saw Olivia, who was astonished by this; perhaps she thinks that I will now pull out my pistol and fire a bullet into the middle of her small forehead, ending the role of the rebel and letting the beast win.

My guards, although they were behind me, I could feel their frozen stillness and their long-held breaths, watching in total shock.

Everyone was wondering about my reaction, while I was focusing only on her green eyes that resemble the Amazon rainforests...

I watched her trembling feet on the bed even though she was trying to hide them professionally; the veins of her neck were tightened like tree roots extending from the forests of her eyes.

And that bandage that ruined her face, for some reason, was giving more sharpness to her innocent face.

Someone like me, whom no one can stand against, has just been slapped by his commodity... and before the eyes of his workers.

I raised my hand smoothly, making the silent room sink into a deeper silence, and making Julie lose her balance on the bed where she was trying to dig her toes firmly into it. I passed my hand over her bandage and said coldly:

"I like wild cats very much... is this your only slap, or is there another slap waiting for its turn?"

The veins of her neck relaxed as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on her; her trembling lip and her small hands that were clutching her pants, everything about her was declaring surrender despite the forests of anger in her eyes.

I continued with a provoking calmness:

"I understand... there is no other slap. Can we now take care of your wound that disfigured your beautiful face?"

My hand was still over her face, sensing its high heat, as if I were touching embers that refuse to die out.

But she returned to resistance once more after minutes; she pushed my hand away with a strength I didn’t expect from her exhausted body and said:

"Don’t touch me again... do you understand?"

I laughed at this sentence of hers; for I am Robert Cross, no one can command me, rather I am the one who gives the orders.

I signaled with my hand to Olivia, who was watching in awe; she understood my signal and left the room, taking the two guards with her. Their departure did not please them, for I had deprived them of the pleasure of watching a final match.

The sound of the door closing was the beginning of her features changing to fear; I saw her pupil dancing inside like a trapped bird looking for an exit. I said, the laughter still on my lips:

"Now we are alone... do you want me to show you how well I understood the ’no touching’ lesson?"

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