My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 77 - 78/The Bitter Sweetness

Chapter 78:

Robert’s Point of View

I was watching Carlos as he sank into his silence, his eyes narrowing in a desperate attempt to decode the "high price" Julie had paid,

but I decided that this secret would remain trapped within the walls of my chest.

Suddenly, the door opened and she stepped in, carrying a silver tray with two cups of coffee on it,

a mysterious smile playing on her face that made me pause for a second to wonder: what is going on in that rebellious mind?

She approached us with confident steps, placed the first cup in front of Carlos, then extended her hand to give me the other cup.

Instead of leaving, she simply pulled out a chair and sat down, placing the tray on her lap, and said in a calm tone:

"Here you go... enjoy."

I furrowed my brows and looked at her in disapproval, saying in a dry voice:

"Why did you sit here?"

Carlos sipped his coffee, observing the situation, while she replied as she adjusted her seat:

"I sat because I have nowhere else to go, and also... maybe you need me."

I took a drag from my cigarette and slowly exhaled it toward her, saying:

"We have conversations that you cannot be a part of."

Carlos intervened, setting his cup down:

"Thank you, Julie... delicious coffee."

I smiled inwardly; the coffee was made by an automatic machine, and she hadn’t exerted any effort in preparing it.

I raised my cup and took a single sip, but I suddenly felt an overwhelming, unbearable sweetness filling my mouth.

I slammed the cup onto the table with a ringing sound and said in irritation:

"What is this? It’s full of sugar!"

She didn’t flinch; instead, her smile widened and she said:

"I hope it serves the purpose."

I said, gritting my teeth:

"I asked for it without sugar!"

She replied with a provocative coldness:

"Yes, I know, but you need it so your words become sweeter."

Carlos burst out laughing, leaning back as he said:

"Oh Julie... you are truly witty."

Then he noticed she hadn’t added sugar to his cup, so he straightened up and looked at me with a triumphant gaze, saying:

"So Julie left my coffee bitter... that means you like my words."

I felt rage boiling in my chest at his insinuation, but her response came like a thunderbolt; she turned to him slowly,

eyed him with a scrutinizing look, and said:

"Actually, I don’t like them, Mr. Carlos... but considering your age, I was afraid your blood sugar might rise, so I left your coffee bitter."

Carlos’s laughter vanished instantly, and his features froze as he stared at her in shock,

while I was trying to suppress a sudden urge to laugh at the sight of him being shut down in such an insulting manner.

Carlos tilted his head to the side, his fingers pressing hard on the golden handle of his cane until his knuckles turned white, and said in a voice he tried to keep dignified:

"Provoking me with my age doesn’t always work, Julie; look for something else."

She shook her head slightly, her hair strands flying with her rebellious movement, and replied with a coldness that killed his attempt at composure:

"It works every time."

I felt the pressure of the situation increasing, so I pointed my hand toward the door in a definitive gesture and said in a firm voice:

"Fine, Julie... go on, you can leave now."

Her green eyes fixed on me, and she asked with a calm defiance while still seated:

"Where do I go?"

I exhaled my cigarette smoke with boredom and said:

"To wherever you want."

She rose slowly, adjusted her white shirt with a provocative dignity, then carried the empty tray and said as she headed toward the door:

"Fine... enjoy the coffee."

As soon as the door closed behind her, a heavy silence prevailed; I watched Carlos’s frown, which had frozen on his features as if her words had left a scar on his pride.

I leaned back in the chair and raised an eyebrow in a mocking inquiry, saying:

"Well, my friend... do you still want this girl?"

Carlos turned toward me, his eyes burning with a dark brilliance I hadn’t seen before, and answered in a low voice dripping with determination:

"I want her more than ever."

I gripped the "sweetened" coffee cup she had placed before me, feeling a hidden tension running through my chest; for the Carlos I know does not withdraw easily.

I extinguished the remains of my cigarette in the marble ashtray with a slow circular motion and tried to push the specter of Julie out of the room by changing the subject, asking in a businesslike tone:

"Tell me about the drug shipment... did it arrive safely?"

Carlos’s features changed immediately; the playfulness vanished, replaced by the rigidity of a cartel man, and he sat up straight as he replied seriously:

"Yes, the political friend you spoke with arranged the safe passage for us, and the shipment arrived in full."

I nodded with satisfaction and said, resting my elbows on the desk:

"That’s excellent."

Then I gave him a sidelong glance and added:

"How about we celebrate today?"

His face brightened slightly, and a smile appeared that matched his mood, as he said:

"I like the idea."

I leaned toward him and said in a welcoming tone:

"Shall I book the VIP room for you? Choose any girl you like."

His eyes gleamed with a hungry brilliance, and he didn’t hesitate for a moment as he said:

"I want the redhead... her name is Luna, isn’t it?"

I raised an eyebrow mockingly and said, watching his reaction:

"Hmm... you remember her name too?"

He leaned back and passed his hand over the handle of his cane with relish, muttering:

"She is very... very skillful."

Here, I found my chance to drive the final nail into the coffin of his interest in Julie;

I laughed with a slight mockery and said to him as I fixed my gaze in his eyes:

"Do you see, my friend? You love skill and maturity, while that girl I mean Julie is a virgin novice; she will never know how to please you."

My jaw muscles stiffened as I heard him say in a tone drowned in fantasy:

"Julie makes me enjoy myself just when she speaks to me, so imagine if she were in my bed, Robert?"

Involuntarily, I raised the "sweetened" coffee cup and took a long sip, but the strange thing was that I didn’t feel a single grain of sugar; rather,

I imagined the sugar had completely vanished to be replaced by a bitter, gall-like taste that settled in my throat.

I set the cup down with feigned calmness and said in a low voice, trying to hide its sharpness:

"Hmm... that is interesting."

Carlos didn’t stop there; instead, he leaned toward me, signs of a strange relish appearing on his face,

and continued as he ran his fingers with an obsessive slowness over the golden handle of his cane:

"I feel a climax just by hearing her voice or seeing her... I cannot imagine what I will feel when I touch her"

At that moment, I felt a sudden heat erupt in my chest, and I pressed my hand onto the edge of the wooden desk until it almost groaned under the weight of my grip.

Carlos’s words about "touching her" were echoing in my ears like the whirring of bullets, and I felt an overwhelming urge to stand up and stop this conversation at any cost.