My father sold me to the Mafia King
Chapter 423/The Curse of Poisoned Love
Chapter 423
Robert’s POV
Perhaps the employees whisper in the corridors behind my back that I am a man who has lost his mind of his own free will. Or perhaps they repeat in secret that the mafia king everyone fears has been reduced to a pathetic teenager over a little girl.
I don’t care which one of them is right. Not in the slightest.
Everything built up inside this chest revolves around Julie alone. Yet, this damn pride stands like a steel wall between me and my steps toward her forbidding me from drawing close, or resting my palm against her skin.
I used to reassure myself that she would eventually yield, that she would bow beneath my dominance.
But whenever I searched her eyes, I found nothing except a sweeping, destructive current of pure hatred and malice.
I swore to myself that I was ready to offer a forgiveness I had never granted to a single soul in my dark world on one condition. She only had to utter a single plea. Just one word asking for my forgiveness.
Instead, she stood like a violent storm, eager to tear down and destroy everything I had built without a second thought.
That exact flaw was why I pulled her brother Steve’s card and tethered his very life to her breathing. It was the same reason I brought Sara into that room right before her eyes: hoping to ignite the buried embers of jealousy in her heart, waiting for her to beg, to shatter that cold wall of silence.
Instead, she crushed every hope I held. She stood with lethal pride and declared that she had never loved me for a single day that every touch, every emotion, was nothing more than a meticulously crafted lie.
I walked out of the room that day, my body swaying under the crushing weight of ruin and despair. My mind refused to process how a man of my power and authority could be branded by that girl as a "foolish mafia king."
And how foolish I truly was. I spent the prime of my life far away from this nonsense called love. And when I finally fell into it with a ruthless madness, I chose the entirely wrong girl.
Malice sank deep into my soul. I wanted to see her pay the price. I wanted her to taste the bitterness of pain and burn in the exact same fire that scorched me.
That was why I made the decision to put her up for auction to sell her off to a paying client, forcing her to live the reality of a whore whose existence is reduced to a cheap commodity passed around between men.
Yet... I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her in another man’s arms. Absolute madness.
The mere thought of a single creature looking at her with dirty intent made my blood boil like a raging cauldron. I couldn’t stomach anyone breathing in her scent from up close, or another hand touching her bare skin.
Even in that moment when I saw her sound asleep in her brother Steve’s arms, a black frenzy seized me. I wanted to kill him right then and there. I wanted no man on this earth to orbit her space not even the brother who shared her own blood.
Jealousy and hatred clamped hard down on my mind, leaving me searching for hours for a way out of this impossible equation. The only solution was to find someone to play the role of a hidden client right before her eyes, while I controlled everything from the shadows. I would be the only one touching her body. I would be the one penetrating her depths.
I had one of my trusted guards put on the finest suit, forcing him to wear a solid black mask that completely concealed his features before sending him into the private room in front of her.
The moment she was deceived by the fake client, I moved in to tie the cloth blindfold tightly over her eyes. I played the broker leaving the room to hand her over, while the masked guard quietly slipped out after fulfilling his role.
I watched her exhausted body tremble beneath my palms. I witnessed the terror slaying her from within as she fought against my touches with every shred of strength she possessed. I heard the insults that nearly scorched her throat, and I watched her surrender, sinking into the deep abyss with every stroke of my fingers and every thrust of my length.
And in the middle of that poisoned pleasure... a lethal wave of jealousy swept through me.
I grew jealous of myself. I was envious to the very bone because she was surrendering her body and offering those burning groans to my touches all while believing, in the darkness of her ignorance, that the man fucking her was a complete stranger.
Today, that very same shadow returned to feed on my mind. I wanted her with the same ravenous hunger, with the same breath-stealing passion.
That was the exact reason I chose that blood-red lingerie for her. It bore a striking resemblance to that skimpy black fabric I had gifted her four years ago. I wanted to see the curves of her body wrapped in it once more.
At the same time, I wanted her to suffer in the hell of her own thoughts, imagining she was dressing up for a foreign client who was about to strip her bare.
I ordered Sam and Patricia to apply the exact same makeup and style her hair just as she had appeared yesterday. She looked like a ticking time bomb detonating right in the middle of my chest.
When she barged into my office with a bold shove of the heavy door, wrapped tightly in that red silk robe, screaming into my face with that burning tone... my breath hitched in my throat for several seconds.
I stared at her insanely breathtaking face, whispering to myself in a desperate bid to smother the fire raging through my veins:
(Damn it... She looks terrifyingly beautiful. Damn you, Robert... Damn you and your cursed heart!).
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