My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 60

Chapter 60: 61/Task execution day

Chapter 61:

Julie’s Point of View

I stepped out of the room, feeling my body stagger under a weight invisible to the eye; that small bag nestled in my pocket was pressing against my thigh as if it weighed tons of lead.

Every time I moved, I felt a sting in my chest, as if my conscience had become a dagger plunging into my heart with every beat, silently screaming deep within me:

"Don’t do it, Julie... go back."

I walked behind Robert’s towering figure in that long hallway; the silence between us was so thick that I could hear the creak of my shoes on the marble floor and the chattering of my teeth,

which I tried in vain to suppress. We reached a steel door; Robert’s fingers moved mechanically over the keypad to enter the password,

and the lock recoiled with a dry, metallic sound.

We rode a secret elevator in which I felt my being descend and rise in a desolate void,

then we climbed narrow stairs that finally led us to a place whose walls felt like they were pressing against my breath;

it was the same restaurant.

The place that witnessed my final moments before my father uprooted me from my life and threw me into the slave market.

For the first time since that ill-fated day, my eyes touched the outer space stretching behind the massive glass facades.

Although the restaurant was closed and empty of noise, as I approached a slightly ajar balcony, a refreshing breeze brushed my face.

I closed my eyes and inhaled it deeply until my chest ached; the air was cold and pure, but it failed to cleanse the scent of fear exhaling from my pores,

nor to remove the bitterness of the truth: that I had returned to square zero, but this time, I wasn’t the victim being sold, but the hunter setting the nets.

The clamor of jazz music suddenly exploded to pierce the silence of the place,

and the scent of aged tobacco mixed with the aroma of fine wine filled the lobby and brushed my face.

The restaurant was teeming with bodies moving with vanity; men in their polished formal suits and mysterious masks that turned them into a unified aristocratic monster.

Before my feet could move a single step toward that crowd, I felt Robert’s fingers dig into my arm like iron hooks, pulling me toward him.

He leaned in until his cold breath touched my earlobe, and whispered in a tone carrying an implicit warning:

"Don’t you dare do anything crazy, Julie."

He paused for a second, while I felt my heart beating violently against my ribs, then continued with words that made my limbs freeze:

"Guards are surrounding the entrances from the outside, and most of those you see here are our customers... so, be careful."

I swallowed hard, feeling a sharp dryness in my throat as if a lump had stuck there.

I looked toward the distant doors, then at his firm grip on my arm;

the weight of the cocaine in my pocket reminded me that I was trapped between the jaws of a pincer,

and that the idea of escaping now was nothing but a delayed suicide.

I whispered in a faint voice that I tried hard to keep steady:

"Yes... I don’t intend to escape."

A mysterious smile formed on his lips, then he tilted his head slightly,

gesturing with his eyes toward the far corner:

"Now, look at that man standing by the bar on the left... the one wearing a white mask and a black hat."

I shifted my gaze toward the place he pointed to; he was a tall young man, slender of build, his hat and mask hiding every detail that might indicate his identity.

He seemed like just another statue in this masquerade.

I shook my head slowly, feeling a coldness running through my limbs:

"Yes... I see him."

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