My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7: 7/Compulsory Examination

Chapter Seven

Julie’s Point of View

I opened my eyes, welcomed by a pitch-black darkness swallowing the corners of the room.

I didn’t know how many hours had passed, nor where we stood on the hands of time; had morning arrived, or were we still in the gloom of night? This place felt exactly like outer space—lost in its void where you can never perceive time.

Suddenly, the door opened and the room lights flickered on to reveal the features of the "vampire" who looked like a nurse. She stood there coldly, holding a metal tray in her hands that reflected the harsh light of the lamps.

She approached my bed with silent footsteps that could barely be heard, placed her metal tray on the small table with deliberate roughness, then looked at me and said:

"Good morning, I see you have removed the bandage, and this is unacceptable behavior."

I asked her in a voice overcome by sleepiness and disorientation:

"What time is it?"

She did not turn to me; instead, she was busy pouring disinfectant onto cotton, and answered me coldly:

"It is eight o’clock in the morning."

She placed the wet cotton on my face, and a wave of coldness washed over me, followed by a stinging burn that made me grit my teeth.

She applied an ointment with her cold hands, then stuck a new bandage firmly while saying:

"Do not remove it, otherwise the wound will fester."

I said to her,

"Can I get clean clothes? I didn’t find anything to wear in this closet."

She carried her metal tray and moved toward the door, saying,

"I am not responsible for this,"

then she left.

The bandage was pulling at my skin, making my face contract, and my hair, which was still damp, caused a pain inside my head.

I got up from the bed and felt a sharp hunger gnawing at my intestines, but the food in the cart had become very cold and was inedible.

I pulled the blanket and hugged my knees to my stomach tightly, as if I were trying to silence the hunger gnawing inside me.

The door opened again and Olivia entered the room with the scent of vanilla that made me nauseous.

She looked at me and said,

"Haven’t you had enough sleep yet? Come on, get up."

I put the blanket over my face to avoid seeing her and said from underneath it,

"Get out."

I felt the blanket being pulled off me violently, and she said,

"Get up now, you have an appointment with the doctor."

I was shocked. What doctor was she talking about? And did this place include doctors too? I got up from the bed and stood before her with all the strength I had left and said,

"I am not sick."

She glanced at my clothes and then said, smiling sarcastically,

"What is this state you are in? Your clothes are dirty and your hair is wet, you truly look like a wild sow."

I said,

"Excuse me, I had no prior knowledge so that I could pack my bags."

Her face scowled and her eyes narrowed as she said,

"Let’s go outside."

The door opened to reveal two guards standing there like dams, then she turned to me with impatience:

"I will not wait for you here forever, come on, move."

I walked behind her submissively, like a sheep being led to the slaughterhouse.

The sound of Olivia’s heels played again on the marble, while the two guards followed us from behind with their heavy steps.

We walked down the hallway until we stopped at a door made of shiny chrome; Olivia reached out her hand and opened the door.

The room looked exactly like a doctor’s office—a real clinic in all its details, to the point that I opened my mouth in astonishment.

The room was drowned in a stark whiteness that almost blinded the eyes; the walls were polished as if they were a mirror, and the atmosphere was saturated with the smell of disinfectants and Dettol that pierced my nose strongly to erase the foul smell of vanilla.

In the corner, there was an examination bed covered with clean white paper that creaked with every breath of air, and beside it was a metal table on which medical tools were laid out, shiny and arranged with terrifying geometric precision.

It wasn’t just a doctor’s room; it looked like a laboratory equipped with extreme care in the middle of this desolate place.

Sitting behind a wide wooden desk was a woman in her mid-forties, wearing a snow-white coat that didn’t have a single fold.

Her features were eerily calm, and her blonde hair was tied back so tightly that not a single strand was allowed to escape; she wore medical glasses with a thin gold frame that gleamed under the strong desk light.

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