My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 109 - 110/The Angelic Demon

Chapter 110:

Julie’s Point of View

I walked out of the bathroom with a tense body, trying to banish his image from my head, but the heat still inhabited my veins.

My eyes fell on Axel sitting quietly, and I exploded, saying:

"Your damn, insolent master... do you know what he did?"

I paused for a moment, panting, then continued with eyes flashing with anger:

"He dared to kiss me as a punishment for entering his room!"

I began pacing the room back and forth, my thoughts clashing audibly:

"Is kissing a punishment now? Is he a pervert? Yes, he is undoubtedly a pervert!"

I rushed toward the door and opened it violently, walking down the hallway with angry strides.

I had to go to him immediately and warn him, or perhaps kill him this time. I stopped suddenly, biting my lip with a dark thought:

"I should have taken the scissors with me to slaughter him... should I go back and get them, I wonder?"

While I was drowned in my revenge fantasies, I felt a strong hand clamp onto my arm and pull me suddenly from the middle of the hallway.

I turned in panic, and there he was; the same man who had besieged me with questions about "Violet." He said in a serious and firm tone:

"I must talk to you."

I shook my hand off him violently, my body stiffening defensively:

"I don’t want to!"

He approached me with features covered in persistence and agitation, and said in a low voice:

"Please... I need to know some things."

Then he looked right and left in the empty hallway and asked in a cautious tone:

"Where is your room so we can talk comfortably?"

My body stiffened as I faced his pressing gaze, and I said in a decisive tone:

"Let you into my room? Absolutely not!"

He didn’t back down; instead, he leaned his shoulders slightly and said pleadingly:

"Please... just a little time."

I exhaled in annoyance, my thoughts scrambled, and said, trying to end the matter:

"Listen, I don’t know the Violet you’re talking about."

I hesitated for seconds, my eyes scanning the empty hallway, then I made up my mind and whispered sharply:

"Follow me."

I walked with quick steps and he followed me like my shadow until we reached my room.

As soon as we entered, I locked the door behind him and turned to him, crossing my arms over my chest:

"Fine, I’m listening... and be quick, I don’t have time."

He straightened up and said calmly:

"By the way, my name is Marcus."

His Mexican accent was perfectly clear, reminding me of Carlos’s accent.

I narrowed my eyes and said inquiringly:

"And I am Julie... and you are Mr. Carlos’s nephew, aren’t you?"

He nodded his head in confirmation:

"Yes, that’s right."

Then he took a step closer and continued with a seriousness that made my skin crawl:

"Perhaps Violet is from your family, because the resemblance between you cannot be a coincidence."

I felt a tightness squeezing my chest, so I exhaled forcefully and said:

"I told you I don’t know anyone by that name!"

I went quiet for a moment, then asked with a curiosity I couldn’t curb:

"And why are you looking for her? What is she to you?"

He answered in a tone shrouded in sadness:

"She is my lover."

I shook my head with sorrow and said:

"Unfortunately, I cannot help you."

But he didn’t give up; instead, he said insistently:

"She is exactly like you; she is forty-two years old... there must be a connection between you."

I froze in my place, my eyes widening in shock at the age difference; he looked only in his twenties. I asked with rampant curiosity:

"And you... how old are you?"

He shot me a surprised look, as if my question were a stab at his privacy, but he answered curtly:

"Twenty-five years old."

I said with a shock I couldn’t hide:

"What?"

His features changed suddenly, and I realized then that I had started poking my nose into affairs that didn’t concern me.

Marcus took his phone out of his pocket, and his fingers moved over the screen quickly before he pointed it toward me.

My breath froze in my chest; a woman appeared in the picture with long brown hair, green eyes, and a charming smile... she was wearing nothing but underwear and was sitting in Marcus’s lap.

A loud gasp escaped my throat, and I snatched the phone from his hands with a violence that almost dropped it.

I focused my gaze on the image, rubbing my eyes several times in disbelief.

I thought for a moment that I was in a nightmare, or that my vision had blurred from the effect of that damn kiss; because what I was seeing before me now, with those features familiar to the point of pain, could not be reality.

Marcus asked in an eager tone as he watched my bewilderment:

"What? Do you know her?"

Of course I know her; I know those sculpted features and this face well... she is my replica because she is, simply... my mother.

A thousand questions jumped into my head like lightning bolts; is my mother just a traitor? How did I not discover this? And how did my father never suspect her?

And why is she impersonating the name "Violet"? And worse... why is she the lover of a young man the same age as her son?

Marcus’s voice echoed again as he approached me, breaking the silence of my shock:

"Julie... tell me where she is? You must have recognized her!"

A desire to lie struggled within me, to say I didn’t know her to protect her for how could I tell this person that his lover "Violet" is actually "Meredith," a married woman with two sons?

But a dark feeling of betrayal pushed me to take revenge on her and on my father whom she had deceived. I said with an industrial disgust I couldn’t hide:

"She is my mother."

Marcus stepped back as if I had slapped him and said in disbelief:

"What? That’s impossible!"

I fixed my gaze on him and said stonily:

"It’s the truth."

He shook his head in denial, muttering:

"She... she doesn’t have children."

I laughed with bitter sarcasm and said:

"I am her daughter, and she has another son who is only two years younger than you."

Marcus placed his hands on his head in complete shock, so I continued bitterly:

"And she is married to my father." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

He shouted in shock:

"Married?!"

I said to him:

"Yes, and I think she lied to you about everything, even her name isn’t Violet."

Marcus gasped loudly and said in a choked voice:

"I cannot believe you."

I told him while feeling nauseous:

"As you wish... I just don’t understand how she enters a relationship with you, ignoring all this, even though you are the same age as her son... it’s truly disgusting."

Marcus lunged toward me and grabbed my arm tightly, his eyes burning with confusion:

"Tell me, what is her address? Where can I find her?"

My mind was ordering me to be silent, but my tongue spoke the full address.

I told him with an artificial coldness:

"Go to her and confront her with these facts, for I don’t care... she was never a mother to me."

Marcus rushed out of the room with insane speed, leaving behind a desolate void.

I threw myself on the bed with an exhausted body, cushioning my arm as I muttered in disbelief:

"Was my life just a deception? How was my mother deceiving my father and I didn’t feel it? How?"

The door opened quietly, and the cook entered, dragging the metallic dinner cart that made a light squeak over the floor, then she left silently.

I looked at the luxurious dishes arranged before me, but a lump in my throat made my appetite vanish completely.

I rested my head on the pillow, thinking about the weight of the secrets that fill this life; no matter how long they hide in the darkness, their ugly face must be revealed in the end.

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Marcus’s Point of View

I rushed out of the club with blood boiling in my veins; I threw myself behind the steering wheel of my car and took off with an insane speed that made the trees and buildings blur around the edges of my vision.

My mind refused to believe; how could "Violet" be married? How could she have a family and children while she was in my arms?

I closed my eyes for a second, and my memory retrieved the night of our first meeting a year and a half ago in the "Las Vegas" casino.

She was breathtaking in her short black leather dress that clung to the curves of her body like a second skin, making every other woman in the place fade into a mere faint shadow.

She was an "angelic demon," combining the two opposites in one body.

I remembered the agony I tasted to reach her, and the full year I spent with her as if we were in a fictional dream.

She gave me nothing but her name; no last name, no past, no roots, and I didn’t care about searching for anything as long as she slept in my arms.

But six months ago, she evaporated. She left and left me searching for her in every corner, until I saw that girl, Julie... she was an exact replica of her, as if she were her unborn twin.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly until my knuckles turned white from anger and pain.

If every moment I lived with her was just a lie, then the palm of my hand is burning now to touch the truth.

The brakes shrieked violently as I stopped in front of the house Julie told me about.

I got out of the car with strides heavy with threat and stood before the door. I raised my hand and knocked on it with repeated violence, completely ignoring that her husband might be inside right now, sharing the same roof that I had built in my imagination.