My father sold me to the Mafia King novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82: 83/Bitter Droplets of Safety

Chapter 83:

Julie’s Point of View

My chest tightened violently as if I were suffocating; that dog wasn’t just a massive animal to me, but the embodiment of an old nightmare I thought I had forgotten.

It was of the same breed that had attacked me two years ago, tearing away my peace before it tore my clothes.

I felt the black tape of my memories passing before my eyes like a blade, but a calm voice cut through the thread of my terrified thoughts.

I felt Robert’s broad palm sliding over my hair in successive, measured strokes; his movement was strange, terrifyingly gentle, as he whispered:

"Are you okay, Julie?"

At that moment, the truth flooded my consciousness like a cold wave; I was seeking refuge in him, burying my face in his chest, and clinging to his shirt as if it were my only lifeboat.

How could I seek safety in the arms of this "monster" who was no less dangerous than his dog?

I tried to loosen my clenched fingers; I wanted to gather the remains of my dignity and push him away from me, but my body betrayed me.

I remained frozen in my place, for my fear of Axel outweighed my pride, and for some mysterious and deep reason, the warmth of his chest granted me a serenity I never expected from him.

I said in a voice that came out stuttering and husky from between my trembling lips:

"I want... I want to get out of here."

I expected him to mock my weakness or tighten his grip on me to show me who the master is here, for he enjoys seeing me suffer, as if my internal struggle is his favorite show.

But he surprised me with a suspicious calm when he answered with a single word:

"Fine."

He reached into his trouser pocket with a slow movement and pulled out the metallic key while I was still clinging to him like a drowning woman afraid of letting go.

He turned the key in the lock and threw the door wide open, then said in an expressionless tone:

"The door is open now."

The moment he spoke, I suddenly let go of his shirt as if I had regained my fragmented consciousness.

I rushed out of the room with stumbling, fast steps and ran down the stairs, while my heart pounded violently against my chest as if a hidden monster were chasing me through the hallways.

I entered my room and slammed the door shut behind me, then collapsed sitting on the floor, leaning my back against the cold wood as I panted to gather my lost breath.

With every gasping inhale, the gateway of the cursed past opened to drag me back two years...

I was standing in front of that majestic mansion, wearing my favorite red sweater and simple jeans, carrying my books and papers that I had worked so hard to prepare.

I was waiting for my friend "Jenny" in that neighborhood where only the wealthy lived, where a suspicious silence enveloped the place.

Suddenly, the wind blew fiercely, snatching my important research paper from my hands and flying it over to settle behind the fence of the neighboring garden.

I knocked on the large door loudly, but only silence answered me.

I spotted a small side door, and when I touched it, I found it open by an inch.

Curiosity mixed with necessity took hold of me, and I whispered to myself that I would go in to get the paper and be out in seconds.

I stepped over the lush green grass, and as I bent down eagerly to pick up the paper caught between the bushes, I felt a brute force snatching me from behind my sweater.

The books flew from my hands and I fell to the ground while a black, massive Doberman dug its fangs into the fabric of my sweater and pulled me back with animalistic violence.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, feeling the cold air touch my skin as the fabric tore;

I raised the remaining books to cover my face, expecting at any moment to feel his sharp teeth piercing my flesh.

I was trembling like a thread in the wind, screaming desperately:

"Help! Somebody help me!"

Salvation came when Jenny’s father’s shout rang out as he ran toward us, grabbing the dog’s collar firmly and shouting at him:

"Stop!"

Jenny rushed toward me, taking my hand to lift me off the ground while asking in a voice trembling with anxiety:

"Are you okay, Julie? Did he hurt you?"

I wasn’t able to utter a single word; my jaw was clenched from terror.

I threw myself into her arms and wept bitterly, while I tried with my hands to cover what the tear in my sweater had revealed, as my bra appeared clearly.

Her father didn’t give me time to feel shame; he quickly took off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders to cover me, saying in a gentle tone:

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