My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 321

Chapter 321: 321/ Entering without permission

Chapter 321

Julie’s point of view

He answered me with an extreme emotional tenderness that flowed like an anesthetic into my tired limbs: "I do this certainly without interruption every week, Julie... I go there and leave him fresh white roses, and whisper to him that his distant mother loves him very much and has never forgotten him for a day."

In that exact second, the burning tears poured from my eyes abundantly like a waterfall. I pressed with my palm forcefully over my mouth to stifle my crying gasp and the sound of my weeping, and said in a completely choked, lost voice: "Thank you, Max... thank you so much. I must cut the connection quickly now."

He said with regret and sadness for my state: "Goodbye, Julie... take care of yourself."

I distanced the phone from my ear with supernatural speed and cut the connection instantly so that I would not explode into hysterical crying and weeping before him in weakness. Suddenly and without warning, I heard a light, quiet knock on my room’s door, followed by Steve’s voice from the outside without opening the door or breaching my privacy, saying in an ordinary tone: "Julie... I am going now to work. Do you need anything?"

I wiped my face and tears quickly with the tips of my fingers, and before he could glimpse my sadness and brokenness from behind the door, I said in a voice feigning strength and artificial steadfastness: "No... good luck to you in your work."

The moment his footsteps vanished and settled outward, I threw my body in a total collapse over the bed, buried my face completely in the pillow, and began crying with a bitter weeping that ripped the strings of my heart. I missed my departed little son to madness... I missed his warm childish scent and his features of which I did not drink my fill. Even Steve did not let me take any of his small clothes upon our flight to breathe them in when longing slaughters me. I remembered his small hands, his innocent and gentle face... why was he born dead and destiny deprived me of him? Why? Did he not want to be my son and live with me? Did he not want me as a mother to him? Or was I indeed a bad mother who wanted to kill her hope herself?

Suddenly and without any prior warning, the room door opened with power and violence. I jolted with panic and sweeping terror, and raised my head quickly, my eyes completely reddened and filled with abundant tears, the pillow wet under my face. My disapproving gaze froze at the doorstep, and I saw Jake standing in his full long stature.

His face paled and his eyes widened in total astonishment and shock at the sight of my tears and brokenness, and he uttered in a surprised, serious tone completely void of his usual sarcasm and insolence: "You... you are crying?! What happened?"

I gasped in oppression and intense vexation, and moved with a swift motion to wipe my tears and signs of weakness with my palms with extreme nervousness, and shouted in his face with a faltering, choked voice: "Get out of here right now, you cursed scoundrel! Get out!"

But as usual, he ignored my shouting and insults completely, and took a wide step inside while looking around with coldness, saying with provoking insolence: "Where do I find the tissue paper for the bathroom?"

I adjusted my seating over the bed, ground my teeth forcefully, my eyes shooting a burning spark to kill him, and asked him with intense vexation: "You idiot... don’t you know the manners of knocking on the door and asking for permission before entering?!"

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