My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 41/master key

Chapter 41

Julie’s Point of View

After the door closed behind them, I exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

I felt a sense of indescribable triumph; I had taught Carlos a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget, and I had shaken the image of the "invincible man" in his eyes.

Even Robert, who stood frozen for a few moments in utter shock when I ordered him out, seemed unable to believe that someone dared to kick him out of his own property.

These victories, however small, are the fuel that gives me hope hope that I am not just wreckage, but a warrior reclaiming her rights piece by piece.

I entered the bathroom and stripped off that emerald dress that had witnessed my battle tonight.

I was very careful this time not to let my bandage get wet, so I settled for washing my body with warm water that restored some of my calm.

I put on purple pajamas; the fabric was so soft and delicate it felt as if I were lying on a cloud in the heart of the sky.

I removed the pins that weighed down my head, brushed my hair, and tied it into a simple ponytail.

I was ready to sleep, but a ravenous hunger began to gnaw at my insides; I hadn’t tasted a thing since yesterday’s breakfast.

I looked at the clock; it was 11:30 PM. I wondered at their neglect... how could they fail to bring me dinner today? Was it a hidden punishment from Olivia, or were they simply too busy with the show?

I couldn’t endure the hunger until morning, and that’s when I remembered "the key."

I took it out of the drawer and slowly opened my bedroom door. I stood in the silent corridor, hesitation eating at me: where should I go?

Going to Robert’s office at this hour was suicide; he turns into a raging beast during the night. While I was thinking about my empty stomach, a crazy idea crossed my mind, making my heart race:

"Is it possible that this key opens every door in this hallway?"

The hypothesis was logical despite its madness; the key in my hand bore no number or special engraving linking it exclusively to my room.

Since the girls here don’t own keys, it was natural for there to be a single manual master key for emergencies alongside the electronic lock, to allow easy movement for staff or guards.

I looked at the door next to mine... it was a silent door, and I didn’t know who lay behind it.

A desperate urge to experiment took hold of me, not just for food, but for knowledge. Knowledge is the first step toward escape.

I headed toward the first door beside my room with a violently thumping heart. I grabbed the handle, inserted the key, and turned it... I heard the satisfying "click" of the lock. It worked!

My intuition was perfectly correct; this key was the master key for the hallway.

I opened the door and flicked on the light.

The room was a carbon copy of mine: same furniture, same arrangement, but it was cold, with no trace of a human soul. I closed it and moved to the second door, then the third, fourth, and fifth... and each time, the scene repeated: empty, silent rooms.

I began to lose hope of finding any human being, feeling for a moment that I was the only one imprisoned in this wing. I decided to give myself one last chance with the sixth door. I placed the key, opened the door slowly, and held my breath.

The design was the same, but the room was not empty. There was a blonde girl, impeccably dressed, wearing a short red dress and high heels, wearing enough makeup to hide her true features.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed rigidly, like a wax statue waiting for an order to move.

She looked at me in total shock, her eyes widening with a bewilderment that made her look as if she had seen a ghost invading her solitude.

I entered the room quietly and closed the door behind me, saying in a tone I tried to make reassuring:

"Hello... I finally found a human behind these doors."

But she didn’t utter a word. She just kept staring at me, at my purple pajamas, at the bandage covering my face, and at my audacity to stand there.

Her silence was eerie, as if she had forgotten how humans speak to one another.

I stepped toward her quickly, feeling a sudden urge to shake her shoulders to wake her from her shock.

"Hey... can you hear me?"

She finally spoke, her voice trembling:

"Who are you?"

"I’m Julie... and you?"

She replied with clear tension and confusion, wiping her palms against her red dress:

"I’m Sarah... but, are you a new worker here?"

I answered with a bitterness I couldn’t hide:

"No... I’m like you, a prisoner here."

She looked at me in disbelief, repeating the word as if it were a foreign language to her:

"Prisoner?"

"Yes."

She said, pointing to the door in amazement:

"But you opened my room door! And you’re here inside with me... how were you able to do this?"

I didn’t want to get into complicated details, so I said briefly:

"Robert gave me the key because I sang on his stage... it was like an exchange."

Her mouth hung open in utter shock:

"Mr. Robert... gave you a key?"

Her shock was logical; I myself am still trying to process Robert’s "poisoned" generosity.

I tried to change the subject quickly before the minutes slipped away:

"Sarah, do you know any way out of this place?"

She looked at me with a desperate, even pitying look, and said:

"There is no way."

"What? How can there be no way?" I asked sharply.

She replied stolidly:

"Yes, you cannot leave here unless Mr. Robert himself takes you out... and that will never happen."

I leaned closer to her, saying in a whisper full of confidence:

"What if we work together? You and I... we set an escape plan, we watch the guards, we discover the entrances..."

But she interrupted me, raising her eyebrows with painful mockery:

"But I don’t want to leave here!"

I took a step back, unable to believe my ears.

"Why? Don’t you want to be free?"

She sat back on the bed coldly, clasping her fingers over her knee, and said words that fell on me like a thunderbolt:

"Because I came here myself, of my own free will... so why would I escape?"

I sat on the edge of the bed beside her, feeling as if my knees could no longer carry me from the horror of what I heard. I looked at her in bewilderment and said:

"You came here yourself... but why? What could drive you to choose this fate?"

She looked away, saying with a bitterness that coated her voice:

"I was in a relationship with a mobster... he beat me and humiliated me every day, and I couldn’t break up with him because he threatened to kill me every time I tried to leave."

I swallowed hard, repeating after her in a whisper:

"Kill you?"