My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 65 - 66/A bitter awakening

Chapter 66:

Julie’s Point of View

A sudden coldness exploded over my face, as if a thunderbolt of ice had struck my pores.

My entire body jerked under the covers, and I bolted upright, gasping violently, but my head wouldn’t obey; I felt as if a polished dagger had been driven into my temple, forcing me to recoil again.

The room was spinning around me in hysterical circles; the walls were swaying, and the ceiling was descending toward my eyes, which failed to open against the breaking light.

I pressed my palms over my ears to stifle a sharp ringing that sounded like a train’s whistle.

As my vision gradually cleared, I glimpsed a familiar face dripping with venom: it was Olivia.

She stood over me like an ill-omened crow, gripping a glass cup empty now with sternness, her features flushed with a rage I didn’t understand.

She screamed in a tone that pierced my head like a nail:

"Get up, you pig!"

I felt a nausea sweeping through my gut and a strange bitterness settling in my throat, which was dry as a barren desert.

I tried to lift my body, but my limbs were heavy as if made of lead, and my skin, soaked in cold water, was shivering violently.

I placed my hand over my throat, which felt as if it were clogged with thorns, and said in a hoarse voice that came out like a broken hiss, barely audible:

"What... what happened to me?"

Every word I uttered increased the pain inside my skull, while I tried desperately to gather the shards of last night that had scattered into the holes of my black memory.

Olivia spat her words in my face as if she were smelling a carcass:

"Your whole scent is disgusting wine... and it’s past four in the afternoon. Were you dead or what?"

Her words fell on my head like a hammer.

Four in the afternoon? My heartbeat froze for a moment before racing madly.

I tried to respond, but a sour lump rose from the depths of my stomach to block my throat.

I lunged from the bed with a swaying body, and as soon as my feet touched the floor,

I rushed toward the bathroom with stumbling steps, my hand pressing firmly against my mouth.

I threw myself onto my knees before the toilet, and my entire body shook in a violent convulsion; I felt a burning tearing through my esophagus as I threw up everything inside me.

My stomach muscles were contracting with painful severity, and my eyes overflowed with forced tears with every burning gasp,

until it seemed to me, from the intensity of the pain and effort, that my entrails would burst from between my ribs.

I finally stilled, panting over the cold tiles, my forehead dripping with sweat,

while the bitter taste in my mouth reminded me of every stinging sip I had gulped down yesterday, fleeing from the truth.

Olivia stiffened at the bathroom threshold, twisting her face in disgust as she eyed me with a poisonous look:

"How repulsive!"

She turned and left the room, leaving the echo of her footsteps to vibrate in my head, which felt like it was about to explode.

I remained kneeling in my place, struggling against a dizziness gnawing at my consciousness and a grip squeezing my stomach.

After a bitter struggle to regain control over my sluggish body, I leaned against the cold wall and stood up very slowly.

The scent of wine emanating from my pores attacked me with every breath, increasing my urge to vomit again.

With trembling fingers, I turned on the shower faucet, and the hot water rushed in to fill the space with steam.

I stripped off my clothes, stained with the disappointments of last night, and stood under the flow of water, letting it strike my heavy head.

I was searching through the holes of my black memory; I remembered sitting on that high stool, I remembered the taste of the first acrid sip... but what happened after that?

Everything vanished into a murky fog.

Suddenly, the image of the unknown man pierced my imagination like a sharp blade.

My body froze under the water; I had done it... I had stained my hands with the blood of the innocence of a human I don’t know.

The cord of my endurance snapped, and my shoulders shook with silent sobbing before my voice exploded into crying.

Tears were pouring so profusely that they mixed with the water droplets, and I felt as if I were washing myself with the bitterness of my soul, not with the tap water.

Time passed like an aeon of private mourning, until my tear ducts dried and my exhausted body calmed.

I stood before the blurred mirror, wiping its surface with my hand to see my reflection;

my eyes were red and bloodshot, and my eyelids were swollen from crying and staying up late.

I looked at that stranger in the mirror and said in a harsh tone, trying to bury the regret in its cradle:

"You are the one who chose yourself, Julie... there is no room for regret now."

I wrapped my body in a thick white towel and stepped out of the bathroom with heavy steps,

heading toward my wardrobe to shroud my body in new clothes, as if I were trying hard to hide my new truth behind them.

The smooth white fabric slipped over my body to cover it with a long dress, as if I were trying to reclaim my lost purity behind this color.

I stood before the mirror, and with cautious fingers, I began spreading the ointment over the scar on my face, which had begun to fade.

My eyes fell on the corner of the room, and my hand froze in place; the breakfast cart was settled there coldly, covered with dishes that no one had touched.

A shiver ran through my body as I realized that the cook had entered, moved, placed the cart,

and perhaps seen me in my wretched state without me blinking an eye.

Olivia was right; I wasn’t sleeping, I was entirely absent from existence.

I raised my eyes toward the clock; it was six in the evening.

At that moment, the door handle moved violently.

A strange guard entered, towering, with pale skin and fiery red hair that highlighted his rigid features.

He didn’t take a single step inside, but settled for a military stance at the threshold, and spoke in a dry voice devoid of any expression:

"Mr. Robert wants you."

The headache was still gnawing at my skull with rhythmic thuds, and I felt that my soul had not yet been repaired enough to face Robert’s tyranny.

I shut my eyes tightly, trying to dispel the dizziness, and said in a dry tone:

"I don’t want to... I’m tired." 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The guard’s eyebrows rose in a surprise that made his cold features pucker, then a short silence prevailed before he spoke with a muffled threat:

"Don’t force me to take you by power."

A spark of defiance ignited in my veins despite my weakness; I raised my chin and my posture stiffened before his massiveness.

I looked directly into his eyes with a provocative sternness:

"I am here... go ahead, show me what you will do."

He didn’t wait a single second; he lunged toward me with swift steps that made the floor shake under his heavy boots.

Before I could retreat, his rough fingers clamped like pincers onto my arm.

I felt his bones pressing against my flesh harshly as he shouted rigidly:

"Move... you are going to Mr. Robert now."

I tried to pull my arm away violently, my body jerking in a desperate attempt to escape his iron grip, but he was like a deaf wall that wouldn’t budge.

My face flushed with rage, and I felt the heat of tears burning my eyes as I screamed in his face:

"Let me go, you animal! I told you I don’t want to go!"