My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50: 51/Unprecedented Admission

Chapter 51

Carlos’s point of view

"Molesters!"

I repeated the word in disbelief, looking at Robert, trying to grasp the audacity of that girl.

She didn’t stop there; she called me a maniac too! And in front of whom? In front of the man everyone fears. Robert smiled with a provocative coldness and said:

"Sit down, my friend... sit."

But the blood was boiling in my veins. I pulled my weapon from behind my waist, swung it in the air with resentment, and said:

"You know? I wanted to put a bullet inside her head with this weapon right now!"

Robert’s features suddenly changed; the smile vanished and was replaced by a gaze as serious and sharp as a dagger. He said in a decisive tone:

"Carlos, you know that this matter does not exist in my world... I will not allow you to kill a woman."

Feelings of rage took over me; he always sees me as less noble than him because, in his eyes, I am ready to kill women, even though I have never done so in my life. I said to him with suppressed anger:

"Robert, I don’t kill women either!"

He wiped his forehead with his hand and replied with a direct hit:

"But you are ready for this at any time, Carlos."

Robert was my partner and friend in drug deals; although I don’t usually befriend business partners, Robert was an exception.

Despite his young age, he possessed a weight and prestige that forced you to respect him, even if he sometimes ignited the fuse of my anger with his endless provocations.

I put the weapon back in its place and sat on the chair, then asked him out of curiosity:

"What is the reason for this strange calmness of yours? Didn’t she insult you too? She pointed my cane at your face with an explicit threat!"

He stood up from his desk with a suspicious calmness, poured whiskey into two glasses with deliberate slowness, and then said:

"Because I keep my response to her move in another way, Carlos."

He handed me the glass and added:

"Patience, my friend, is what makes things more exciting."

I took a sip from the glass, then looked at him for a long time and said:

"Robert, you never deal with girls here. I’ve known you for years; I haven’t seen any girl in your office, and you haven’t spoken to me about one of them at all."

I noticed his features stiffen slightly, so I continued boldly:

"Why are you doing this for this girl? Why are you involving yourself in these trivial problems?"

His posture changed suddenly; signs of tension appeared on him as if I had thrown a truth in his face that he was trying to escape.

His treatment of Julie was truly strange; I had never known it in him before. He sipped his glass in one go and said while pouring another:

"It’s just entertainment... this place is monotonous, and she breaks the monotony."

I nodded in agreement; Julie indeed breaks the monotony of this big prison with her rebellion. I said to him:

"You’re right, she entertains me too."

Then I remembered something and asked him slyly:

"And why were you telling her to kill me? And that I wanted to buy her?"

Robert replied in a low tone and a question carrying a lot of cunning:

"And did I lie in what I said?"

I said to him, trying to clarify my point of view:

"No, you didn’t... but what I found truly strange was that you told her that at the moment she was threatening to kill whoever buys her! Were you actually pushing her to kill me?"

He replied with scathing sarcasm:

"Why? Are you afraid?"

Rage began to take over me again; I could no longer stand this disparagement. I said in a sharp and firm tone:

"Robert! What are you saying?"

Robert stepped back a little while smiling, and said trying to soften the atmosphere:

"Calm down, dear Carlos... I’m just joking."

He was silent for seconds, then took a deep breath and added words that hit the core of the truth:

"But you want her... I don’t understand why you’re trying to hide it."

I was caught off guard by his question, which was painfully accurate. Yes, I want her, but why do I feel this strange fear of her discovering that? At that moment, I felt that I was not the strong "Carlos Mendoza" I knew, but someone else weakened by hesitation.

For the first time, I answered with a honesty that stripped me of my pride:

"I don’t know, Robert... but I don’t want her to know about it."

Robert gave a calm smile, as if he had obtained the confession he had been seeking from the beginning, and said briefly:

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