My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 34

Chapter 34: 34/Preparing Julie

Chapter 34:

Julie’s Point of View

Olivia left the room, still wearing that deranged smile carved onto her face.

I realized immediately that she was planning something new,

and that my blow to her head wasn’t the end of the road, but merely the spark for a greater malice. I slowly placed the book inside the box, and my thoughts began to race...

How can I make this night a magnificent revenge against Robert? How do I turn the show he’s planning into a nightmare that haunts him?

While I was drowned in devising my plan, the door opened and a peculiar girl walked in, catching my attention instantly. She was fair-skinned, short in stature, wearing a pink jumpsuit that pulsed with life.

Her boldly dyed hair half white and half black was pulled up into an innovative hairstyle.

Her hazel eyes radiated vitality, and her long face was covered in colorful and truly strange makeup, yet it reflected a rebellious artistic personality.

She was carrying a massive bag; I realized immediately it was a makeup kit. She approached me with a wide smile, extended her hand to shake mine warmly, and said:

"Hi... I’m Patricia."

I extended my hand to shake hers, and for the first time since entering this place, I felt a genuine smile form on my lips. I said:

"Hi Patricia... I’m Julie."

This girl was the first "normal" human being I had met in this desolate place. She didn’t carry the looks of hatred I saw in Olivia’s eyes, nor the icy coldness that inhabited Robert’s.

She was a free spirit in a fortress of restrictions, and I felt at that moment that fate had perhaps sent me an unexpected ally, or at least... a human being who didn’t want to break me.

Patricia skillfully touched the edges of the bandage on my face and asked in a tender tone:

"What happened to your beautiful face?"

I answered calmly and cautiously:

"A simple accident... it’s a small wound, but here, small wounds seem much bigger than they actually are."

She nodded in agreement as if she understood the coded language I was speaking, and said confidently:

"Don’t worry, I’m very good at hiding scars."

A shiver of terror ran through my veins. Hiding scars? This meant making his "merchandise" perfect for the buyers. Feeling danger looming, I said quickly:

"No Patricia, I can’t remove this bandage... my wound must heal first."

She raised her eyebrows in disapproval, as if my persistence didn’t suit her artistic taste, and said in a mysterious tone:

"Fine... we’ll see what we can do about it."

Then she quickly returned to her enthusiasm while studying my features:

"Oh my god, Julie... you have a face that will make my colors speak!"

I laughed lightly and teased her:

"Oh Patricia dear... please, don’t make a rainbow shine on my face!"

She shared the laugh while opening her large bag, saying with playful threat:

"Don’t worry Julie, I’ll make you the star of the night."

At that moment, my laughter evaporated, and the smile vanished from my face entirely.

"Star of the night"... the same words Robert had thrown in my face last time.

Patricia began setting out the tools on the table.

I sat on the chair in front of the mirror, and Patricia started applying creams to my face with lightness and grace.

Although she repeatedly tried to convince me to remove the bandage, I held my ground like a drowning person clutching a straw.

I began reciting the "fake" instructions of nurse Olivia how she warned me about wound contamination,

and that any speck of dust might leave a permanent scar disfiguring my face... I continued with feigned seriousness:

"She told me that removing it now is a huge risk... and blah blah blah."

In reality, I removed that bandage every day in the bathroom, ignoring all warnings.

But today, those lies were my only shield. Olivia’s instructions which I never followed saved me from exposing my entire face at Robert’s damn auction.

Patricia moved to the color stage; she applied long eyelashes that increased the sharpness of my gaze, and distributed blush and highlighter with artistic touches until my face glowed.

Then she chose a warm brown lip liner that added a mysterious, classic character.

She took a step back and smiled admiringly:

"Oh Julie... even with this damn bandage, you look truly stunning!"

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and a real sense of awe took hold of me.

That girl looking back at me from behind the glass wasn’t me... or perhaps she was a version of me I had never known.

My tongue spoke without awareness:

"You’re right... even the bandage failed to make this makeup look bad."

Patricia laughed and playfully tapped my shoulder:

"Oh Julie, you’re making me blush! But the credit goes to your beautiful face; I only highlighted what was already there."

Olivia barged into the room again, carrying a long black bag the kind used to keep luxury dresses away from eyes. I felt a pang in my heart...

the dress had arrived; my new chains had arrived.

Behind her entered a slender, pale-skinned young man.

His long brown hair fell over his shoulders, and he wore thick black kohl around his eyes,

giving them a sharp and suspicious look that contrasted with his funereal paleness.

He was also carrying a black tool kit.

Olivia spoke with a voice full of toxic pride while looking at me:

"Julie... now you’re truly entering our world."

Then she turned to Patricia with a forced smile:

"As usual Patricia, your fingers work magic."

Patricia smiled at the compliment, while Olivia continued coldly:

"This is Sam, the hairstylist... he will take care of your hair today."

Sam stepped forward with silent strides and placed his bag on the table.

He was the complete opposite of Patricia; silent, rigid-featured, resembling in his coldness those mysterious people who filled Robert’s palace.

He looked at me and said in a mechanical tone:

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