My father sold me to the Mafia King

Chapter 93:

Julie’s Point of View

I looked at Axel, who was sitting before me; his wide black eyes followed every move I made, as if I were a prey under surveillance.

Now, with us alone in the room, terror began to seep into my limbs in the form of a cold shiver; I realized then that Robert’s presence by my side had granted me a false stability that vanished as soon as the door closed.

I stood up very slowly, neutralizing my movements to avoid catching his attention, and walked toward the bathroom with steps that were almost fading.

Once inside, I closed the door and leaned my back against it, placing my palm over my heart, which was clearly pounding under my shirt.

I breathed deeply and spoke to myself in a shaky voice:

”Calm down, Julie... this dog is harmless.”

I tightened my grip on the edge of the sink until my knuckles turned white, trying to expel the image of the dog that tore my sweater two years ago from my imagination; yes, not all dogs are the same.

After a while, I opened the door slowly and stepped out with my head slightly raised.

I found him still sitting in his place, watching me quietly.

I said in a tone I tried to make commanding:

”Fine, Axel... sit there while I read my book.”

He seemed suspiciously calm, so I walked toward the desk and sat cautiously, then picked up the book I was reading with fingers that were still trembling slightly.

I tried to focus on the words, but my eyes kept straying toward the clock hanging above the bed; an hour and a half remained until my appointment with that guard in the kitchen.

When the time came, I stood up with a stiff body and pressed the power button on the television.

I turned up the volume on a cartoon channel and said, pointing my finger toward the screen:

”Axel... watch the TV, I’ll be back in a bit.”

I watched him fix his gaze with a strange focus on the screen, so I seized the opportunity and took a red velvet box containing the diamond necklace that sparkled with a gaze-snatching glow.

I tucked the box under my shirt, feeling its cold texture and the hardness of its edges against my skin, then slipped out of the room.

I walked with steps as light as a cat in the corridor, turning right and left with an alert body, until I reached the kitchen door and opened it quietly.

The place was completely empty, and silence weighed upon its corners.

I stood in the middle, clasping my fingers together nervously and whispered:

”Am I early or late?”

Suddenly, the massive refrigerator vibrated with a faint metallic creak and moved from its place.

My eyes widened in shock and I took a step back when that guard appeared from behind it; there was a secret door behind it, perfectly concealed.

I said, pointing with a trembling hand:

”Is this a secret door?”

He shot me a cold look as he adjusted his stance and said:

”A personal assistant to Mr. Robert and you don’t know about this door?”

I ignored his sarcasm and asked curiously, trying to steal a glance at what lay behind it:

”What is there?”

He cut off my questioning sharply:

”Come on, give me the necklace.”

I reached my hand under my shirt and pulled out the box, then placed it in his massive palm.

He opened it slowly, and his eyes glinted under the kitchen lighting as he stared at the diamonds in awe, then said in a mysterious tone:

”Mmm... I didn’t think you would actually give me the necklace.”

I straightened my back and said firmly: ”A deal is a deal.”

He replied, snapping the box shut with a sharp sound:

”That was the only honest part of your words.”

I knitted my brows and asked indignantly:

”What do you mean?”

But he ignored me completely, tucked the box into his deep pocket, then walked toward the door and closed it behind him with steady steps.

”The scoundrel!” I muttered resentfully, striking the floor with my foot.

I rushed toward the refrigerator and began feeling the cold wall behind it with my fingertips, searching for any protrusion or crack.

Suddenly, my finger sank into a very small button, and the refrigerator vibrated again and slid slowly, revealing a long staircase stretching into pitch darkness below.

I swallowed hard, feeling a shiver run down my spine as I looked into that deep tunnel, and muttered in awe:

”How many floors did this psycho build underground?”

I went down the stairs slowly, my hands feeling the cold walls whose texture began to change until I reached the lower corridor.

The scene was completely different; the luxury carpets and hanging chandeliers had disappeared, replaced by a bleak gray hallway lit by white neon lamps that flickered sharply, making the eyes water.

The corridor resembled the hallways of abandoned hospitals, lined on both sides with small, identical black wooden doors that looked like silent cells.

I stopped suddenly when murmurs and sounds of impact reached my ears from the end of the passage.

I crawled with my trembling body along the wall, holding my breath until I felt my lungs aching, and when I reached the last corner,

I stole a glance; it was a vast gym, its space teeming with massive-bodied men, their bodies dripping with sweat as they exercised violently, letting out powerful gasps and muffled shouts.

I retreated quickly, my knee joints stiffening as I realized I was inside the private ”barracks” of the guards.

I turned to flee from where I came, but I froze in my place as if I had turned into a pillar of salt; Olivia was coming from the opposite direction.

My body shrank and I tried to hide in the shadow of one of the doors, while she was walking with confident steps, bowing her head and focusing her eyes on her phone screen.

I felt a sudden cold strike my fingertips and my heart jumped into my throat, and I muttered to myself while pressing my back against the solid wooden door:

”Oh my God... I am in real trouble now.”