My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 69 - 70/Forbidden Touch

Chapter 70:

Julie’s Point of View

I closed the room door behind me forcefully and leaned my back against it while my chest rose and fell madly.

I shut my eyes, but the image of the guard lying on the carpet did not leave my eyelids;

I saw his head tilting rigidly, and his eyes in which the final shock had frozen.

The calmness of Robert, the "monster," as he pressed the trigger resonated in my ears like a ceaseless ringing.

I rushed toward the bathroom with stumbling steps,

and with trembling fingers, I began stripping off my clothes and throwing them on the floor as if they were contaminated with leprosy.

I stood under the showerhead and turned the water to the maximum possible coldness.

My entire body jerked under the impact of the water that struck my pores like needles, but I did not move;

I needed this pain to expel the image of the corpse and the murderer’s calmness from my imagination.

I grabbed the bar of soap and began scrubbing my lips with hysterical cruelty.

I was pressing my fingernails against my delicate skin until I felt the sting of pain and the reddening of the area,

trying to erase the texture of his thumb which he had passed over his lips a moment ago.

A muffled gasp escaped me as I whispered to myself in loss:

"Impossible... it’s impossible that I touched that monster."

The soap slipped from my trembling hand,

so I rested my forehead against the cold tiles and allowed the water to wash away my tears which poured profusely.

My body was trembling not only from the cold, but from the idea of the "personal assistant" that he had thrown in my face.

My body was no longer a commodity for strangers; it had become the property of this man who manipulates my memory and my life as if I were a wooden doll in his hands.

I raised my head and looked at my palms, which had turned white from the intensity of the scrubbing, and I felt a lump choking my throat; would I spend the rest of my life carrying his coffee?

I stepped out of the bathroom, and the cold room air brushed against my wet body, making a harsh shiver run through my skin.

I glimpsed the food cart sitting in the corner of the room, and despite the bitterness of the nausea filling my throat,

I felt violent contractions in my stomach; my entrails were tearing with an audible sound, for my body had not tasted food for two days.

I pulled on my pajamas quickly, my hands still trembling as I closed the buttons with difficulty.

I approached the cart weakly and began swallowing a few morsels mechanically, but the food was sticking in my dry throat as if it were stones.

I didn’t crave anything, but the exhaustion of my strength forced me to satisfy this hunger.

I headed toward the bed and collapsed onto it, trying to bury my head among the pillows.

But, as soon as my eyelids closed, the image of the red-haired man emerged from the darkness of my memory;

I saw him stretched out on the ground, a still corpse, his glazed eyes staring at nothing.

My body suddenly jerked on the mattress and I opened my eyes in terror, while my heartbeat accelerated until I felt it in my ears.

I sat up, pulling my legs to my chest and encircling them with my arms, trying to shrink my size as much as possible.

I felt a strange coldness inhabiting my bones whenever I remembered Robert’s calm tone; that calmness that precedes the shot.

Fear began to seep into my depths like a slow poison, and I realized that I was no longer facing just a cruel man,

but a monster capable of erasing souls in the blink of an eye, and that I was now entirely trapped in his lair.

My chest suddenly tightened with an aching longing, and I felt an overwhelming desire to bury my head in my mother’s lap,

even though I had never known the warmth of that lap.

I felt my cold arms and remembered how she used to avoid even fleeting contact with me, as if my body were a forbidden zone for her.

My memory took me back to that day; I was sixteen, standing before the mirror checking my black dress decorated with small red flowers.

I put my hair up, my fingers trembling as I tried to perfect the updo that "Sunshine" had taught me. When I walked out of the room, I froze in my place.

She was standing at the door, as if she had just stepped out of the pages of legends.

Her red dress wrapped around her body skillfully, and her brown hair flowed over her shoulders like a waterfall of shining chocolate.

Her emerald eyes sparkled under the light, and lips stained by deep red lipstick possessed a captivating allure.

I felt a lump of fascination making it difficult for me to breathe; looking at her stole the senses.

I rushed toward her with quick steps and said in a voice filled with sincere admiration:

"You are so beautiful, Mother."

She didn’t smile, and her eyes didn’t shine with pride; instead,

she settled for a dry, quick nod of her head and averted her gaze from me immediately, as if my words were a burden to her.

She turned coldly and walked out the door, so I followed her with broken steps and utter silence until we reached Mrs. Louisa’s house.

There, Mrs. Louisa received us with a broad smile and led us toward the backyard where the sounds of music and laughter were rising, 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

while I walked behind my mother,

feeling the smallness of my size beside her unattainable brilliance.

The garden was buzzing with life, and the mixed scents of food and flowers filled the place.

We spotted Sandra in the middle in her golden dress that reflected the sun’s rays, her hand wrapped proudly around the arm of a handsome-featured man.

Mrs. Gabriela approached us, leaning her head toward my mother’s ear to whisper in an audible tone:

"He’s a dentist... I really don’t know how she caught him!"

My mother replied in a deep voice, her body completely relaxed:

"It’s luck, dear Gabriela, just luck."

Gabriela turned toward me suddenly, her eyes widening as she examined my face, then she exclaimed in fascination:

"Dear Julie, you are a carbon copy of your mother!"

Then she looked at my mother and added:

"My God, Meredith, it’s as if you are twins."

At that moment, I saw my mother’s features stiffen; her jaw clenched slightly and a trace of distress appeared in her eyes.

She quickly turned her body away from me and said, interrupting Gabriela:

"Come, Gabriela, let’s step away for a bit and tell me what happened yesterday at Mr. Harry’s house... I heard screaming coming from there."

Gabriela took the bait; her face brightened and she smiled as if she had won a prize, for she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to spread gossip.

She clung to my mother’s arm and they began walking toward one of the tables, while Gabriela chattered enthusiastically:

"Oh! His wife found him with another woman, and I heard she’s a young girl... she barely turned seventeen!"

My mother gasped as she pulled a chair to sit, and before I could place my hand on the chair next to her, she shot me a cold look and said:

"Julie, go to another table... our talk is not suitable for you."

I slowly let go of the back of the chair, feeling a sting in my fingertips.

I withdrew with heavy steps to sit alone at a remote table in the corner.

I was watching the scene from afar; everyone gathered around each other, exchanging laughs and touches,

while I sat in my optional exile like an orphan despite my mother’s presence a few meters away.

I fixed my gaze on my mother; she was laughing heartily, moving lightly, and interacting vibrantly with every word said.

I felt a bitter lump choking my throat and making breathing heavy, and I wondered to myself as I squeezed the edge of my dress with my hand:

"Why is she bursting with life with everyone, yet turns into a lifeless corpse and lethal coldness when she is with me only?"

While I was drowned in my isolation, I felt the vibration of the chair next to me and the rustle of fabric approaching,

so I turned slowly to find a young man had settled in the adjacent seat.

He was tall and thin, his skin clear and white emerging beneath the strands of his black hair which he had tied back tightly.

His brown eyes were wide and sparkled with a striking glint, and he wore a carefully coordinated grey suit.

He leaned his body toward me slightly and said in a calm tone:

"Hello, Miss... my name is Karl."

He extended his hand in the space between us, and it remained hanging in the air waiting for me to shake it.

In that moment, I felt a wave of terror running through my spine like a cold current, and my body stiffened on the chair until I almost stopped breathing.

My hands clenched over my lap, and my fingers began squeezing the fabric of my dress so hard that my knuckles turned white.

The echo of my father’s rough voice resonated within me, warning and threatening in a way that made my hair stand:

"Do not go near any man, Julie... don’t you dare!"