My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 78

Chapter 78: 79/A Version of Her

Chapter 79:

Julie’s Point of View

I closed the office door behind me and stood for a few seconds in the quiet corridor, trying to organize my thoughts.

Should I return to my room and remain within its walls? I leaned my body toward the stairs, about to descend, but I froze in my place when I felt firm fingers wrap around my wrist with force.

I turned quickly, facing a tall young man with jet-black hair and brown eyes that scrutinized my features with a strange and mysterious look.

I said sharply as I tried to pull my hand from his grip:

"What are you doing? Let go of my hand!"

He didn’t answer; instead, he stubbornly dragged me behind him toward the room adjacent to Robert’s office.

He pushed the door open, and we entered a luxurious meeting room with a long table and chairs surrounding it, then he slammed the door shut behind us with a single strike.

I shouted at him, rage boiling in my chest:

"Who do you think you are, you lunatic?"

I moved with wide steps toward the exit, but he was faster than me; he grabbed my arm again and pinned my back against the wall with a force that made my breath falter.

He placed his hands on the wall around me, cornering me, and asked in a stifled voice:

"Who are you?"

I lifted my chin in defiance despite my racing heartbeat and said:

"You are dragging me here by force and asking me who I am?"

He gritted his teeth while looking into my eyes with a terrifying focus, and said in a tone that was almost a whisper:

"You can’t be her..."

I began to feel fear creeping into me from his unstable behavior, so I said as I tried to push him away with my hands:

"Are you mentally deranged? Come on, let me go!"

He didn’t move; instead, he began to pass his gaze over the details of my face with a strange precision, muttering:

"The same eyes... the same chin... even the same strands of hair."

My body stiffened, and I felt a shiver run down my spine, and I asked him in confusion and anxiety:

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

He uttered a single name that made the air freeze in my lungs:

"Violet."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to understand what he was raving about, and asked in a trembling tone:

"Violet who?"

He didn’t blink; instead, he brought his face closer until I felt his agitated breath, and said in amazement:

"You are a version of her... you just look younger."

My God, who is this madman who fell upon me from the sky today? I felt the pressure of the room’s walls increasing, so I pushed his chest with all my might and said sharply:

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