My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 68

Chapter 68: 69/An unforgettable night

Chapter 69:

Robert’s Point of View

I leaned my head back slightly, watching the swift transformation in her features; the anger had vanished,

replaced by a childish terror that gnawed at what remained of her composure.

She asked in a stifled voice:

"What?"

I ignored the response, settling for fixing my gaze on her troubled eyes, enjoying that black void in her memory.

Her breathing began to accelerate sharply, and she whispered while shaking her head slowly:

"I... I don’t remember what happened yesterday."

I raised my eyebrows slowly, allowing a cold smile to carve its way onto my lips, and said in a mysterious tone:

"Really?"

At that, her state changed completely; tension began to run through her body like an electric current,

and I saw her hands, which had been resting on the desk, withdraw to tremble by her sides.

Her chest no longer rose and fell steadily; instead, her gasps became short and intermittent.

She took another step closer, her pleading gaze hanging on my face as she said in a trembling voice:

"What happened? Tell me... what happened?"

The tips of her fingers were fumbling with the fabric of her white dress convulsively, and her eyes searched my face for any thread linking her to that lost night,

while I relished the sight of her fortresses collapsing.

I raised my hand slowly, passing my thumb over my lower lip with deliberate focus while fixing my gaze on her eyes, then moved my hand away and said in a low tone:

"You don’t remember?"

She took a quick step back as if I had dealt her a stab, and her stature shook as she whispered:

"What do you mean?"

I didn’t answer her immediately; I occupied myself with taking out another cigarette,

lighting it with utter coldness while she watched every movement of my fingers with a tension that almost spoke.

Then I exhaled the smoke and said:

"Forget it."

She cried out in a loud voice, shaking her head:

"Impossible!"

Then her facial features cramped with distress as she continued:

"It’s impossible that I would do such a disgusting thing."

I shot her a fleeting glance from beneath my eyebrows and asked her coldly:

"What are you talking about, Julie?"

She lunged toward me again and struck the desk surface with her palm with a force that made the pens rattle, shouting:

"It’s impossible that I kissed you! I don’t do that!"

My smile widened slowly; she had swallowed the bait I had skillfully thrown for her.

I leaned back in my seat and said with a provocative calmness:

"And did I tell you that you kissed me?"

She froze in her place, signs of confusion and turmoil appearing on her face,

and her eyes began to shift around the room in loss before she said in a wavering voice:

"I saw you... putting your finger on your lip... you hinted at this!"

I raised my eyebrows in mock wonder:

"I didn’t... you are the one who concluded this on your own."

Then I leaned my body toward her slightly and added sarcastically:

"Why exactly did your mind go there?"

In a single second, her face ignited in a deep crimson, and the flush of embarrassment moved to stain her ears and neck.

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