My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 33/Taming the Genius

Chapter Thirty-Three

Robert’s point of view

I closed the door behind me and walked down the long corridor, but my steps lacked their usual rhythmic steadiness; a thought was spinning in my head, refusing to leave.

I emerged from that room with a muted astonishment boiling beneath my skin.

I hadn’t expected not even by a fraction to find her with such sudden vitality and defiance.

I had painted a completely different scene in my imagination.

I expected to open the door and find the wreckage of a woman a broken soul sobbing on her bed, crushed by the weight of yesterday’s events.

Perhaps... and this is what I had truly craved... I expected to find her surrendered, submissive, her wings of rebellion clipped forever.

But "Julie" shattered every expectation with a coldness that provoked my very manhood.

Her tongue remains as sharp as a blade, and that annoying glimmer the spark of challenge still haunts her green eyes with audacity.

She stood before me as if she hadn’t been broken yesterday, as if the humiliating exam she endured was nothing more than a trial that had forged her into something harder, more impenetrable.

She called me "Little Boss."

That phrase still echoes in my ears, making my jaw tighten involuntarily.

She is playing with fire. Her belief that she regained control just by demanding a desk and books is a delusional one.

I will give her what she wants; I will let her think she is building her own world within my cell. But in reality, I am merely fattening the prey before the grand show.

I smiled bitterly, remembering her boldness as she adjusted my pocket square.

That touch was a declaration of war, and she has no idea that my wars never end until the other party is a corpse mentally or physically.

We shall see, Julie, if this defiance holds when the stage lights shine and you find yourself emotionally naked before everyone.

I entered my office and sat behind the wide mahogany desk, trying to regain my composure, when my phone vibrated with a call from Daniel.

I answered in a dry tone:

"Yes, Daniel. What do you have?"

His voice came through, formal and cautious:

"Hello, Mr. Robert. I have obtained the complete file on Julia Michael."

I sat up straight, lighting a cigarette slowly.

"Go on."

Daniel began reading from his records:

"Julia Michael, 18 years old. Father: Stuart Michael; Mother: Meredith Wilson. The family lives in Queens, New York, specifically on 74th Street near Travers Park. Her father owns a small real estate office but is drowning in debt and completely bankrupt. She has a brother named Steve Michael, 22 years old, but strangely, I haven’t found any information on him for years; he vanished completely at the age of fifteen. Julie is a university student, currently in her third year, majoring in Economics and Business Administration and—"

I cut him off sharply, astonishment tying my tongue:

"What? Third year? Didn’t you say she’s only 18?!"

Daniel confirmed firmly:

"Yes, sir. That is correct. But the records show she skipped two grades in the past due to her exceptional intelligence and academic excellence. That is how she reached her third year at such a young age."

I lowered the cigarette from my lips and stared into the void. Intelligent... smart enough to leap across years.

This explained so much; it explained her sharp tongue, her ability to regain her balance so quickly, even the specific books she requested.

She wasn’t just a beautiful girl who fell into my trap; she was a "mind" imprisoned in a seductive body.

A dark smile formed on my face. The game had just become more complex and far more exciting. I wasn’t just trying to break a "virgin"; I was trying to domesticate a prodigy.

I exhaled a cloud of smoke as I listened to Daniel’s cautious voice:

"Sir? Are you with me?"

I returned my focus to the phone.

"Yes... continue."

Daniel followed with facts that painted the portrait of a woman unlike any other:

"Julia Michael is also interested in the arts; she took intensive vocal training and singing classes in high school and was apparently a standout student. Not only that, but she has a remarkable gift for languages; she speaks Spanish and French fluently alongside her native tongue."

I ended the call after ordering Daniel to continue the surveillance, then leaned back into my plush leather chair.

I closed my eyes, imagining her: a genius in economics, a polyglot, a trained singer.

She wasn’t just "precious cargo" as I first thought; she was a rare masterpiece polished with care.

This explains why she wasn’t dazzled by expensive fabrics and why she chose literature and history with such precision. She possesses a mind as dangerous as her beauty, and that realization filled me with a strange euphoria.

Taming ordinary birds is tedious, but breaking the will of a bird that soars in the heights of intellect... that is a challenge worthy of my effort.

I smiled, thinking of tonight’s party. If she masters singing as well as she masters provoking me, the guests won’t just witness a performance; they will witness the birth of a legend... a legend of which I will be the sole owner.

Olivia entered after I granted her permission; her features bore the remnants of a suppressed anger I didn’t understand at the time. She spoke formally:

"Mr. Robert, I am going now to choose Julie’s dress. I’ve already sent the hairstylist and makeup artist to her room to begin the preparation."

I rose slowly from my chair, the image of the girl Daniel described fresh in my mind. I felt suddenly that Olivia’s "gaudy" taste would not suit such a unique personality.

I spoke in a decisive tone:

"I will be the one choosing Julie’s dress."

Stunned disbelief washed over Olivia’s face as if I had slapped her. She froze, unable to utter a word. Her shock was natural; I, Robert, had never deigned to care about the attire of any girl here.

To me, they were all just mannequins to display wealth. For a fleeting second, I felt a prickle of embarrassment, as if I had revealed an interest beneath my cold exterior, but I brushed it off instantly and regained my frozen mask.

I walked out of the office with wide strides, Olivia following in a suspicious silence.

I felt her gaze piercing my back, her questions filling the hallway, but I was occupied with something else... I was searching for a garment fit for a prodigy, a gown that combined the sophistication of her mind with the allure that would drive the audience mad.

We reached the grand dressing room where hundreds of dresses lined the walls, but my eyes fell on only one that emerald green that shimmered like a serpent’s skin under the lights.

I approached the garment and held it; the emerald silk was cold and slithering, like a living thing. I lifted it to inspect it closely. It was a long dress with a royal train that trailed behind it with arrogance.

The front design suggested a false modesty, with only a tiny, negligible slit at the chest, supported by thin straps no thicker than a thread, wrapping around the shoulders to reveal what was far more devastating.

I turned the dress over, and there lay the "trap." The back was entirely bare a vast expanse of missing fabric reaching down to the waistline.

It was a blatant invitation for the eye to admire every inch of her pale skin.

My eyes gleamed with a dark spark; I felt the thrill of victory in advance.

I imagined her in it. Her body, encased in this silk, would make her look like a priceless jewel, and her exposed back would be a testament to her pride breaking before everyone.

I looked at Olivia, who was watching me in silence, and said in a voice that brooked no argument:

"This is the dress Julie will wear tonight... and no other."

Olivia nodded, her expression showing she understood the "game" I was planning.

I knew Julie had asked for a long dress to cover herself, and here I was, giving her the length she wanted, but stealing her modesty from where she least expected it.

I wanted to see her face when she realized that even when I fulfill her requests, I do so on my own terms.

I continued down the hall but stopped suddenly, turning to Olivia. I said in a cold, firm tone:

"Make sure her hair is up. I don’t want her using her long locks as a shield to hide her bare back."

I saw a glint of enjoyment in Olivia’s eyes. It was clear that the idea of stripping Julie of all her defenses appealed to her greatly.

Olivia gave a thin, malicious smile.

"Yes, Mr. Robert... don’t worry. I will leave her with no means of protection."

I nodded and headed toward the grand ballroom. I wanted her to feel every breeze touching her exposed skin; I wanted her to feel the gaze of the guests piercing her privacy without finding a single strand of hair to hide behind.

I knew her long hair was her last fortress, and with one word, I had ordered that fortress to be razed.

Tonight, there would be no Julie hiding behind her books or her hair.

There would be the Julie I chose, in the form I designed, so that she would finally realize that her intellect, her languages, and her philosophy mean nothing when I decide to strip away her cover before the world.

I returned to my office feeling completely satisfied... everything was going according to plan. Or so I thought.