My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 362

Chapter 362: 362/Do you like me?

Chapter 362

Julie’s point of view

His large hand froze mid-stir for a fraction of a second, as if the question had struck a raw nerve inside him. However, he quickly recovered, never lifting his eyes from the bubbling pot. He let out a short, scoffing exhale from between his lips, answering with absolute detachment, "I don’t know."

I curled my mouth in disgust and dissatisfaction at his vague response, returning to chopping the rest of the potatoes with a slight violence that made a sharp clatter against the board. "What the hell do you mean, you don’t know? Are you an animal that just reacts without a conscious mind?"

He finally turned his head and neck toward me, locking his piercing eyes deep into mine with a heavy, stone-cold rigidity. He said with absolute finality, "Exactly what you just heard. No clear reason."

I continued pressing the sharp blade of the knife against the cutting board with utter coolness, asking in a low, cunning murmur while keeping my eyes fixed on the vegetables, "Tell me honestly... do you like me?"

His eyebrows shot up in intense disbelief and shock at my audacity. He asked with a scathing scoff and a degrading look, "You?"

Then he let out a short, sharp, and provoking laugh that filled the small kitchen. He added decisively, "Never. Not in any way, shape, or form."

A faint, mysterious, and mocking smirk played on my lips as I finished chopping the potato with absolute coldness, completely indifferent to his insult. He noticed my expression and my eerie calmness, knitting his brows in suspicion and paranoia. "What is it?" he asked sharply, irritated. "Why the hell are you smiling?"

I gave a light, dismissive shrug, refusing to look at him or give him an answer to satisfy his curiosity. "Nothing worth mentioning... just fleeting thoughts."

On high alert, he took a wide step toward me, blatant suspicion consuming his features. "And what’s the secret behind that goddamn provoking smirk on your face right now? Talk!"

I completely ignored his question and his mounting anger as if he hadn’t spoken a word. Gathering the diced vegetables with my slender fingers into a large glass bowl, I picked it up steadily and took an aggressive step forward, slamming it down hard into his hands with a loud clatter. "Take it," I snapped. "I finished the chopping exactly as you requested, without any mistakes. Go finish your grand dish."

He grabbed the glass bowl from my hands with rough resentment, quickly dumping the vegetables over the sizzling meat in the pot. Then, he grabbed the kettle of hot water and poured it carefully; a thick, suffocating cloud of white steam instantly billowed up, masking his face and features for a few seconds before he slammed the heavy iron lid tightly over the pot, choking out the sound.

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