My father sold me to the Mafia King-Chapter 95 - 96/Olivia’s Revenge

Chapter 96

Julie’s point of view

I entered my room with a body trembling from the adrenaline and locked the door behind me as if closing a fortress gate.

Axel was still sitting in his place, staring at the TV screen with a suspicious silence.

I threw myself onto the bed without taking off my shoes, feeling a massive weight pressing on my eyelids while my racing breaths gradually slowed, until I lost consciousness in a deep sleep.

I didn’t wake up until I felt the touch of a rough, wet tongue licking my face; I opened my eyes in terror and pushed my head back, screaming in a muffled voice:

"Axel! You scared me!"

My body hadn’t yet adjusted to the presence of this massive creature in my private space.

I muttered confusedly while rubbing my eyes:

"How long have I been asleep?"

My gaze turned to the hanging clock; it was seven in the evening. I jumped from my spot and shouted in shock:

"Oh my God! Did I sleep all this time?"

I rushed toward the bathroom with stumbling steps and leaned over the sink, splashing cold water on my face to regain my focus.

Suddenly, the door opened with a sharp creak, and the blood froze in my veins when I saw Olivia’s reflection in the mirror.

She had regained her lethal elegance; clothes carefully ironed, and hair styled precisely as if the "Pasta Massacre" had never happened.

She closed the door behind her and said in a cold tone dripping with hatred:

"I’ve come to take my revenge on you, Julie."

Before I had a chance to turn, her hand lunged like claws into my hair, and I felt a sharp pain that made my eyes water instinctively.

She pulled me with excessive force to make me kneel before the sink, while she reached with her other hand to turn on the faucet at full speed.

I watched warily as the water rose and filled the sink with a terrifying noise.

I tried desperately to pry her hand off, but she held me down with her powerful forearm as if it were a block of steel; amazement and dread took over me, and I said to myself:

"Damn... what is this woman? Where does she get this strength from?"

I screamed as I tried to resist:

"Let me go, Olivia... come on!"

She replied with icy coldness as she pressed on my neck vertebrae:

"Calm down, Julie... we haven’t even started yet."

As soon as the sink was full, she submerged my head in the water violently.

The world was cut off from me, replaced by the roar of water in my ears and a coldness that swept across my face.

I felt my lungs spasming as I tried to inhale air but found nothing but the lethal liquid.

She suddenly lifted me, and I lunged forward, gasping violently, my chest rising and falling crazily while water dripped from my hair onto my face.

She didn’t give me a moment’s respite; she submerged my head again.

This time, my ribcage contracted severely, and I felt needle-like pricks in my lungs, as if the Angel of Death were clamping his hands on my throat.

She lifted me once more, and I began to pull in air with desperate eagerness, trying to force every atom of oxygen into my hungry interior.

She said, tilting her head and watching my breaking:

"Is the life of a fish beautiful, Julie?"

I said in a fragmented, husky voice, water coming out of my nose and mouth:

"Fuck you... Olivia."

Olivia’s eyes ignited with a manic glint as she heard my curse, and she didn’t hesitate to slam her palm onto the back of my head to shove me toward the water for the third time.

This time, it wasn’t just a submersion; I felt the pressure of her hand pushing my face toward the bottom of the marble sink with brute force.

The world cut off from me completely, replaced by a terrifying darkness and the roar of water thundering in my ears.

My limbs began to strike the air desperately, and my fingers clawed at the edges of the sink in an attempt to seize any ounce of stability, but my body began to fail me.

I felt my heart thumping inside my chest like a feverish drum, and the pain of my hair being uprooted vanished completely before the hell that raged in my lungs;

the pain there was sharp, as if thousands of needles were tearing through my tissues begging for oxygen.

My consciousness began to fade gradually, and my limbs started to go limp, declaring surrender.

Suddenly, I felt a violent pull that brought me back to life.

Cold air suddenly pierced my nose, and I threw my body forward, let out audible gasps, while water exited my mouth and nose with a sharpness that made me cough violently.

My chest was heaving crazily, and water dripped from my wet lashes, obscuring my vision.

Olivia leaned into my ear and whispered in a bone-chillingly cold tone while still gripping my wet strands of hair:

"Julie... do you really think you can do such a ridiculous thing and get away with it?"

I raised my gaze to her with difficulty; her taut face showed no trace of mercy, while my hand trembled over the sink, trying to regain my balance before she could drag me back into that watery grave.

I raised my head slowly, water trickling from my chin and soaking my shirt collar.

While I struggled to pull threads of air into my burning lungs, I looked at her with eyes reddened by the water and pressure.

My voice came out husky and weak, but it carried a tone of defiance I didn’t know I possessed:

"Really, Olivia... is this all you’ve got?"

Olivia’s features froze completely, and her grip on my hair loosened slightly, as if the shock of my words was stronger than any slap.

For a moment, I felt stunned by myself; since my feet first stepped into this cursed place, it seems I had acquired a strange immunity against fear, as if pain had become an old companion I no longer dreaded.

I expected her to flare up in anger and submerge my head again to erase that look from my eyes, but instead, she curled her lips into a mysterious smile dripping with venom, and muttered in a strange tone:

"Brave girl."

She let go of my hair suddenly, making my body lurch forward slightly, and I braced myself with both trembling hands on the cold marble edges of the sink.

I remained under the shock, watching her reflection in the mirror as she walked away with confident steps; did she really let me go? Was that a "compliment" or a threat?

She stopped at the door, turned her lithe body to cast a final glance at me, and said with a coldness that sent shivers through my limbs:

"Catch your breath well... and prepare yourself for the worst, my dear Julie."

She opened the bathroom door and left, leaving behind the creak of the door echoing in my ears, while I remained there,

shivering from the cold and adrenaline, watching the water droplets fall from my wet strands of hair to strike the bottom of the silent sink.