My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 38/Selling silence

Chapter 38

Robert’s Point of View

I knew very well that she would rebel on that stage; Julie is not the type to surrender to fate easily, but I never expected her rebellion to reach this degree of vigor.

She sang a song no one had ever dared to sing here; she challenged me with every letter, and every tone.

She fixed her gaze on me, hurlng words at my face like arrows, while I sat in my place, shackled by my silence, unable to answer her before this crowd.

I sat stunned, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t care to monitor the reactions of the audience or test the pulse of the customers; I was watching only her as she lit the stage with unquenchable fires fires that were burning all the rules I had set for her.

She finally finished her song, and a heavy silence fell, a silence broken only by the applause of Carlos Mendoza.

As for me, I was drowned in my questions: How could she do all this without being afraid? How could she not tremble while standing before monsters who own the price of her life?

She is only eighteen, an age where she is supposed to be fragile a little girl whom a single word could break but she stood there like a mountain unshaken by the wind.

The audience’s shouts rose demanding an encore, and I waited for her reaction, but what she did was outside the scope of all my calculations.

She raised her hand and coldly removed the mask, revealing her bandage to everyone.

At that moment, I felt the blood freeze in my veins; she had defeated me in my own home, and I felt my control slipping away, leaving no place for itself in the presence of her overwhelming existence.

She looked at me with blatant defiance, then grabbed the microphone and said in a tone dripping with irony:

"There are no extra songs; Mr. Robert only paid me for one."

Then, with utter audacity, she winked at me with her left eye while wearing a triumphant smile, and bowed slightly to make that bow a dramatic ending to what she had started.

I watched her as she left the stage; she didn’t walk like a frightened girl, but like a warrior returning from the battlefield after crushing her enemy, the sound of her golden heels striking the floor behind her like victory drums echoing in my ears.

Carlos leaned toward my ear and whispered in a tone full of awe and appreciation:

"Robert... this girl is a bomb!"

I didn’t turn to him, but I thought about his words; yes, he was absolutely right.

Julie is a time bomb, and she had exploded here moments ago, leaving behind the wreckage of the rules upon which I built this club, and a great deal of destruction to my pride, which I thought was invincible.

But I am "Robert"; I do not allow chaos to prevail for long. I stood up from the chair with utter coldness, standing tall before the guests whose eyes were still fixed on the back where she had disappeared.

I spoke in a confident, booming voice, as if everything that happened was part of a master plan I had drawn:

"I hope our show tonight has earned your admiration... for it is a unique and special show, completely different from all the monotonous shows you have attended before."

They were still under the influence of the shock, lost between the power of her voice and the audacity of the bandage she revealed.

Nevertheless, they began to express their great admiration with shouts and sharp applause.

This was not strange; Julie possesses that rare ability that makes even the blind see her not only because she is beautiful with a breath-taking beauty, but because she imposes herself and her presence by force, and compels everyone to acknowledge her presence in spite of themselves.

Julie wanted to embarrass me, but without realizing it, she raised her value in the eyes of these men to an extent I never dreamed of... she has now become the "first requirement" for everyone.

I left the theater hall, and Olivia was waiting for me, her features dripping with hatred for what Julie had done. I said to her coldly and commandingly:

"Olivia... bring the girls to the hall now."

She nodded in agreement, and I was about to head toward her room, where blood was boiling in my veins to confront her, but a voice I knew well stopped me.

"Mr. Robert... I want to buy the girl who sang just now!"

I turned slowly to find Fitzgerald Elias before me, the foreign investor who thinks his money grants him the right to snatch the rarest jewels before they ripen.

I gave him a calm smile that did not reflect the storm inside me, and said with sobriety:

"Mr. Elias... I regret to tell you that this girl has not yet entered the scope of sale, and as you saw for yourself, her face is still injured."

His face distorted with signs of greed as he replied:

"I saw her face, and I don’t mind that at all, Mr. Robert."

In that moment, I felt a desire to crush his vanity, but I maintained my professional mask.

I gave him a forced smile and continued in a decisive tone that brooked no argument:

"Mr. Elias... if you don’t mind, I do. You know my rules well; I do not settle for selling any girl while she is injured—it touches the reputation of the club."

I saw signs of annoyance cross his face as he tried to hide his disappointment, but he did not dare to oppose me further, saying briefly:

"Very well, Mr. Robert."

I shook my head and said to him coldly as I left:

"The girls are coming now... enjoy."

I left him behind and walked with fast, steady steps in the dark corridor; the strikes of my heels on the floor reflected my suppressed anger and fascination.

I reached her door and stood for a second to gather my composure before invading her world.

I opened the door with a quiet force, and there she was... standing in the middle of the room in her emerald dress, which had now become a symbol of my defeat and victory at the same time.

She looked at me with a defiance that hadn’t dimmed even after that effort on stage. I entered and closed the door behind me, saying in a cold tone wrapped in sarcasm:

"A very romantic song... Julie."

She wore a confident smile and said:

"I was inspired by you."

I stepped toward her, moving closer until the scent of lavender pierced my defenses, and said in a whispering voice that almost touched her face:

"It pleases me that I do that to you..."

Then I paused for a second before adding with serious curiosity:

"But, did I really pay you only for one song?"

I watched her as she turned away from me lightly, and with utter coldness she replied:

"Yes... and I am an artist who doesn’t sing for free."

At that moment, I felt a terrifying division tearing through my being.

There was a part of me, a strange part I had never known, that felt immense admiration for this rebellion admiration for that spirit that refuses to bow under my weight.

While the other part, the "Robert" everyone knows, was screaming inside me, trying to break her violently, to return her to her normal size, to punish her for daring to mock me before my men.

I felt these conflicting forces clashing in my chest like two hurricanes; a force that wants to protect her and a force that wants to crush her.

A feeling possessed me that I had never experienced in my life... How could I fight myself, before I even began to fight her?

Suddenly, a sharp knock came on the door. I was extremely surprised; who dared to knock on Julie’s room door while I was inside? I went and opened the door, finding Olivia standing there with features of tension that the eye could not miss.

I said to her sharply:

"Yes, Olivia... what do you want?"

But the answer did not come from her; it came from a deep voice from the other side of the corridor.

It was Mendoza standing there with his usual prestige.

I stepped out immediately and closed the door behind me firmly, then gestured to Olivia to leave. I thought at first that there was something wrong regarding the large shipment of drugs expected, so I said with professional concern:

"What’s going on, Carlos? Is there a problem? Let’s go to the office to talk."

Carlos replied with a suspicious calmness:

"Don’t worry, Robert, there is no problem, and no need to go to the office now."

I frowned, surprised by what he said:

"You’ve never asked to see me without a good reason!"

Carlos smiled a mysterious smile and said:

"Because I didn’t ask to see you..."

Then he paused for a second and pointed with the head of his golden cane toward Julie’s room door and continued:

"I want to see her."

I froze in my place from astonishment. I had told him before that Julie was not for sale, and before I could utter a word of objection, he forestalled me by saying:

"Ask for whatever amount you want."

I said to him calmly, trying to regain my balance:

"Carlos... I told you Julie is not for sale now; even the investor ’Elias’ asked for her minutes ago and I refused his offer."

Carlos pressed his cane firmly on the ground and said in a decisive tone:

"But I don’t want to buy her... I only want to see her and talk to her."

I laughed from sheer shock; the request defied logic. I said sarcastically:

"You? Carlos Mendoza? You want to pay money just to ’talk’ to a girl?"

He shrugged with indifference and replied briefly:

"Yes."

I reached out and placed my hand on his forehead in a mocking gesture and said:

"Are you feverish, Carlos? Because your words don’t seem logical at all!"

But he brushed my hand away with total seriousness and said:

"I’m fine... and now, will you allow me to talk to her?"

I didn’t know what to say; he had shocked me with this request a shock I didn’t expect.

I had been accustomed all my life in this business to selling girls’ bodies for pleasure, not selling their time for dialogue.

I replied in a tone I tried to keep normal despite the boiling inside me:

"Of course, Carlos... and don’t repeat the subject of money; you know I don’t accept money from a friend like you for a conversation."

Carlos smiled and headed toward the door with confident steps.

I moved behind him instinctively, but he turned to me suddenly with coldness and said:

"Of course you won’t enter with me, Robert... I will enter alone.".