My father sold me to the Mafia King
Chapter 434/A Four-Year Delayed Proposal
Chapter 434
Julie’s point of view
His dark gaze stayed glued to the highway, his dry voice dripping with absolute resolve:
"I’m going to prove to you that that damned phone call wasn’t what your naive brain twisted it to be!"
I squeezed the leather seat, speaking with a bitterness echoing with heartbreak:
"You sold me, Robert!... You sold me to that cursed man!"
He turned his sharp profile toward me, exhaling a toxic breath as he asked in a chest-crushing reproach:
"For fuck’s sake, Julie!... Do you honestly believe I sold you?!"
I locked my gaze onto his icy eyes, hurling a defiant challenge:
"You were the one sleeping with me... weren’t you?!"
His steel fingers tightened around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned stark white. He answered in a low, scorching hiss, dripping with lethal obsession and possessiveness:
"Of course it was fucking me!... And no one else in this godforsaken world! Do you honestly think I would ever allow a single living creature on this earth to touch a single inch of your skin?!"
My thoughts tangled violently into a dizzying blur. My hands trembled as I clutched the seatbelt tight.
Was it truly possible that all those lost years, all that unbearable hell I swallowed down, were nothing more than an illusion a fatal, tragic misunderstanding?! Did I throw away four whole years apart from him, battling grief and devastation, over a phone call I completely misinterpreted?!
The car screeched to a sudden halt before a massive iron gate rising like an impenetrable fortress. The gates swung open smoothly, and the Rolls-Royce glided down a paved driveway framed by sprawling gardens, finally stopping before a grand mansion anchored by towering marble columns.
I turned to him in complete disarray, my voice trembling:
"Where are we?"
He fixed his steel eyes on me, answering in a dry, dead-serious tone:
"My home."
I knitted my brows in confusion, looking out at the sheer grandeur around us:
"And what the hell am I doing at your home?"
He stepped out of the car without answering, shutting his door with a heavy thud:
"To show you the proof."
I reached out and pushed my car door open. Before my bare foot could graze the chilly stone of the driveway, his steel arms reached inside, hoisting me up against his broad chest with astonishing ease once again!
I swatted his rigid shoulder, panicked and flustered:
"Am I a little child?! Put me down!"
His gaze dropped down to mine, the corners of his lips curving into a mocking, warm curve as he held me tightly, his voice dropping into a low, deep rumble:
"You’re my child."
I exhaled a sharp breath, losing my patience:
"Stop the nonsense, Robert!"
He took long, sweeping strides toward the mansion’s entrance, whispering close to my ear:
"I don’t generally like children... but when it comes to you, I don’t mind."
I froze for a second in his arms... He doesn’t like children?
My gut twisted with a sharp, bitter pang, a suffocating wave of pain ripping through my chest. Does that mean he never wanted children in his life to begin with?! While I let fire consume my heart for years, and now decided to carry my pain all alone because I thought I lost the core of our existence... because I worried for him and feared he would shatter because of Ethan!
We entered the vast, opulent main foyer, and I spoke with shaky firmness:
"That’s enough... I can walk here."
He lowered me gently onto the plush carpet, but he didn’t set me free; his hard fingers locked securely around my wrist, commanding firmly:
"Come on. Walk."
He led me toward a sweeping marble staircase curving grandly toward the upper floor. We climbed the steps rapidly, heading toward the left wing, where he pushed open a heavy double door made of dark ebony.
We stepped inside into a sprawling, luxurious master bedroom, dominated by heavy furniture and a quiet atmosphere.
I scanned the room in sheer shock, whispering in disbelief:
"I thought you didn’t own a house!"
He turned his sharp profile toward me, asking coldly:
"And why is that?"
I shrugged aimlessly, turning around in place:
"I don’t know... You sleep in your suite at the club all the time."
He answered in a tone stripped of any emotional warmth, walking with heavy steps toward a concealed wall safe:
"I never come to this house... except occasionally."
He punched in a secret code to unlock the iron safe, reaching inside to pull out a small velvet box of deep, dark black.
He turned his body toward me, taking deliberate steps until he stood right in front of me. With a light flick of his thumb, he popped the box open and beneath the dim light, a breathtaking emerald gleamed, set in the center of a delicate, masterfully designed silver ring.
It was no ordinary emerald; it was cut into a flawless teardrop, expertly blending light green hues with deep, mysterious dark tones in a harmony that stole the breath straight from my lungs.
My eyes locked onto the gem, my lips parting in a shock so profound it paralyzed my entire body.
Robert raised his dark eyes to mine, his voice coming out raspy, low, dragged from the absolute deepest depths of his chest:
"This is what I was talking about on that damned phone call, Julie."
My lips trembled, a choked whisper barely escaping my throat:
"Did... Did you send my picture to him?"
He tilted his head slowly, his fingers brushing with smooth gentleness against the side of my pale cheek, answering with a fierce tenderness that shattered all remaining pride:
"I sent it to the jeweler... so he could craft a piece that matched the exact color of your eyes."
My tear-filled eyes widened, a single burning tear spilling over to wash down my skin as I whispered in overwhelming shock:
"Were you... were you really going to...?"
He cut me off with a sharp, burning hiss, dripping with raw honesty, absolute possessiveness, and the agonizing heat built up over four long years:
"Yes, Julie!... Yes, I was going to ask you to marry me!"
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