My father sold me to the Mafia King
Chapter 303/I am not your mother
Chapter 303
Julie’s point of view
His eyes widened in genuine shock, astonishment coloring his features, his brows arching with unbridled wrath and fury as he yelled: "Did Steve tell you about my imprisonment? That fucking bastard can never shut his massive mouth and keep a goddamn secret!"
I waved my hand in the air with dismissive indifference to his wrath, stating with a groan: "Rest assured, he hasn’t told a single living soul in this town. I am the only one who found out. And by the way, to this exact second, I don’t even know the cause of your imprisonment or your goddamn crime, nor am I remotely interested or curious to know the details of your trashy life."
He averted his face from me with extreme coldness and absolute detachment that perfectly mirrored my own nature: "Yes, that is far better for me. I despise nosy people."
I looked down once more, completely involuntarily, at his massive physical build which truly appeared giant-like, packed with prominent, corded muscles rippling beneath the fabric of his jacket; I remembered with stark clarity the details of his thin, weak frame in the past when we met in New York. I stated in a mocking, astonished pitch: "It truly appears that your stint in prison has done you wonders and transformed your build... your body has become massive, like a goddamn wrestler."
He completely ignored my words and commentary, offering me not a single reply or glance. Instead, he spun around with detachment, arrogance, and pride, walking with heavy, audible, and confident strides toward Steve’s private bedroom. He burst the wooden door open, stepped inside swiftly, then slammed it shut behind him with a violent force that sent a deafening echo vibrating through the house.
I forcefully stomped the sole of my bare foot against the ground in a towering rage, hissing with audible resentment through my teeth: "Arrogant, conceited, fucking bastard! Am I destined now to live and endure existing under one roof with this ridiculous, proud prick?"
I marched with angry, swift strides into the small kitchen, aggressively finishing the preparation of the cup of tea I had forgotten atop the blazing stove. I poured myself a warm, steaming mug, pulled open the metal door of the refrigerator, and extracted a piece of delicious, appetizing cherry cake that my brother Steve had brought home from the kitchen yesterday specifically for me. As I sat down upon the stool, I could clearly hear the rushing, forceful sound of the shower water in the adjacent bathroom, realizing instantly that the goddamn intruder had already gone in to wash.
I grasped my mobile phone from atop the table, automatically intending to dial Steve’s number to give him urgent word of what had transpired and his friend’s presence.
However, my hesitant fingers retreated from the screen at the last second, and I reasoned with absolute rationality and calm; surely, if Steve found out at this exact second that Jake was present in the house, he would abandon everything in his hands at the restaurant and the customers, rushing over without a single thought. That reckless, irresponsible behavior might result in his final termination from his sole job. For that reason, it was far better and closer to correctness to await him until he finished and arrived on his own.
Surely, it would be a delightful, beautiful surprise for him, because he loves Jake insanely and considers him a precious brother.
I was quietly enjoying consuming my piece of delicious cake and slowly sipping the hot tea, when suddenly, the handle of the antique bathroom door clicked, and Jake abruptly and unexpectedly entered the kitchen perimeter.
My metal fork froze mid-air between my fingers, my eyes widening with fury, wrath, and utter repulsion as he advanced toward the table with absolute self-confidence. The bastard was literally not wearing a single shred of clothing to cover his body save for a small, white cotton towel wrapped tightly around his waist. Meanwhile, his clearly defined six-pack abs and his entirely bare, broad chest were fully exposed right before me, his short blonde hair dripping with water droplets that cascaded over his shoulders.
I glared at him with expressions loaded with total disgust and repulsion, yelling in a loud, disapproving voice: "Do you possess absolutely zero respect for the presence of a strange woman with you in this goddamn house?! What is this sheer audacity?!" 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮
He halted in his tracks with coldness, shifting his head with a manufactured, provocative innocence: "And what the fuck do you think I did to warrant all this screaming?"
I pointed my index finger sharply and with repulsion toward his exposed, bare body, stating with agitation: "Put your goddamn clothes on at least, and respect my presence here!"
He swept me with a cold, superior, and insolent gaze from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, his lips curling into a biting, mocking smile: "You are truly a psychologically damaged, twisted girl who stands in dire need of therapy."
He turned his full weight around and vacated the kitchen with absolute coldness and tranquility, completely indifferent to my words. I slammed my fist with force over the wooden surface of the table, feeling an insane, overriding urge at that exact second to sprint behind him and plunge this sharp metal fork deep into his goddamn eye because of his sheer, arrogant, and vile pride.
After a succession of several heavy minutes, he re-entered the kitchen perimeter, having finally donned a simple, comfortable gray shirt and dark cotton shorts that reached the boundaries of his knees. He walked toward the center of the room with his massive strides, stating in a dry, emotionless pitch: "I am exceptionally hungry right now."
I looked at him from the corner of my eye with sheer boredom, answering with glaring mockery and disdain: "And do you see me working here as your goddamn maid, or am I your mother for you to demand food from me in this pitch?"
He knitted his brows with annoyance, inquiring concisely and in a low voice: "Is there any ready food in this place or not?"
I gave a cold nod of my head toward the corner where the refrigerator stood: "The food is inside the metal containers in the fridge."
He advanced with his massive strides that made the floor shudder, pulling open the refrigerator door and extracting the metal food containers, then slamming them over the table’s surface with a violent force that produced an irritating clatter. He grabbed himself a fork and a ceramic plate from the upper shelf and sat down on the stool directly facing me, pouring a massive quantity of food and beginning to eat with eagerness, hunger, and without a single shred of hesitation or waiting to heat it up.
I monitored his bizarre movements with astonishment and bewilderment, stating in a tone carrying pure wonder: "You are eating it just like that, when it’s entirely ice-cold?"
He replied in a muffled voice, his eyes fixed with concentration on his plate as he chewed the food rapidly: "I already told you that I am so hungry it brooks no waiting. It doesn’t matter if it’s cold."
I finished my cup of tea in tranquility, attempting to ignore his repulsive presence, then swiftly rose from the chair, carrying my mug and empty plate. I washed them with care beneath the sink faucet, feeling the coldness of the water washing away my tension. After drying my palms with the cotton towel in swift movements, I exited the kitchen with rapid, angry strides, completely ignoring his presence as though he were a mere passing wall.
I went directly to my small bedroom, tightly locking the wooden door behind me. I collapsed with exhaustion over my comfortable bed, releasing a long, deep sigh from my aching chest, wishing for swift sleep and an escape from this irritating, new reality.
"How the hell am I going to endure this annoying, arrogant prick now?" I whispered to myself.