My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 377

Chapter 377: 377/Forgetting is a Literal Mercy

Chapter 377:

Julie’s POV

Stella gave her head a light toss as she gathered the scattered brushes, placing them back into the train case with practiced order. "Fine... I’ll drop the topic so your ass doesn’t get completely bent out of shape," she murmured, flipping a latch. "But you told me yourself during our very first meeting that your late parents tragically died in a horrific car accident."

My spine and pulse locked up for a fraction of a microsecond at the sudden mention of that woven lie. It was the exact blueprint and scenario that my brother Steve had meticulously constructed for the locals to permanently scrub our history, identities, and flight from the grid the moment we came to live in this remote area. Forcing my features to remain as unreadable as flat stone, I delivered a dry, clipped response to keep the boundary solid.

"Yes, Stella... that’s correct. It was a long time ago."

She tilted her head smoothly toward her shoulder, her calculating eyes scanning my face. "Do you actually miss them?"

I swallowed thoroughly to banish the rising tension, my voice dropping into a flat, gray ash. "Yes... of course I do."

Stella curled her lips in deep thought, her bright eyes never leaving mine. "To be completely frank, sometimes the way you act makes me feel like you didn’t even like them... because you simply never bring them up, and you don’t mention them in a single one of our long conversations. It’s like they’re complete nobodies to you."

I closed my eyes for a single second as a sharp blade of pain sliced through my mind, desperately fighting back the grotesque, animalistic images of my monstrous father selling my naked flesh to Robert like livestock. I snapped my eyes open, firing a razor-sharp, freezing glare to shut this goddamn door forever.

"I strictly... do not want to resurrect the past. I refuse to dig through old graves and trigger that agonizing bleeding all over again. Forgetting is a literal mercy."

Stella didn’t back off her stubborn crusade for a single second. Instead, she dragged her chair an inch closer until she was practically glued to my side. "What were their actual names, Julie?"

My brows knitted together in deep irritation as I glared back at her. "Why are you asking about their names right now, of all times?"

She gave a careless, slightly erratic shrug of her shoulders, twisting her lips into a playful smile. "Jesus, it’s nothing... just pure curiosity."

I went silent for a beat. "My father was Stuart... and my mother was Meredith."

She gave a slow nod, repeating the names under her breath as she leisurely pulled the long zipper of her massive bag shut. Then, she raised her piercing eyes back to mine, flashing a sudden, intense fascination.

"Tell me more about New York... about the madness of the city and what it’s like to actually live there. I have literally never stepped foot outside this region my entire life, seriously. I only see it on TV."

I drew a massive breath that filled my chest, leaning my exhausted back against the rigid wooden chair. The chaotic streets of New York flashed behind my eyelids the raw noise, the exclusive clubs, the immense luxury, and the bloody, sickening tragedies. A faint, deeply cynical smile touched my lips.

"Fine... the city is an absolute, towering beast of a place, to the point where it completely drains you. There is an endless amount of noise, luxury, and traffic. But on the dark side... there are a hell of a lot of sickening secrets and buried crimes hidden right behind the walls of those luxury skyscrapers."

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