My father sold me to the Mafia King Chapter 71 - 72/The Scent of Obsession

Chapter 72:

Olivia’s Point of View

I stood before the heavy wooden office door and took a deep breath that made my chest rise sharply.

I raised my hand chanically, running my fingers through my hair strands, ensuring they were tucked behind my ear,

then with a swift and calculated movent, I reached for my collar and undid the top button of my shirt.

My hand slid toward my bra, pulling out a small perfu vial; I sprayed droplets on the sides of my neck and throat,

closing my eyes for seconds as I inhaled the fragrant scent before returning the vial to its place.

I knocked on the door twice lightly, and his deep voice ca from inside that voice that runs through my body like an electric current and makes my knees tremble:

"Co in."

I pushed the door open and entered, but my steps froze imdiately on the carpet.

He was sitting in his leather chair, completely bare-chested.

My eyes fixed on the definition of his prominent muscles and his skin,

which looked as though it were carved from rock; I felt a sudden heat invade my face and my breath tightened.

Without my will, the tip of my tongue moved to lick my lower lip slowly, while my heartbeat drumd in my ears from the intensity of the excitent.

Robert’s back was to , his gaze fixed rigidly toward the massive aquarium, watching the small sharks as they tore through the water with their fluid movents.

I felt grateful that he didn’t see my hungry looks and that mont of losing control;

I was still standing there, my body stiffened under the weight of the scene, struggling to regain my professional mask while my desire burned inside.

I swallowed with great difficulty, feeling a sudden dryness in my throat as I whispered:

"Hello, sir... I wanted to see if you needed anything before I leave."

He rose from his chair slowly, and that movent alone made my pulse race madly; his imposing stance pierced through like a bullet settling in the center of my heart.

He fixed his sharp gaze on and said in a deep voice:

"Tomorrow morning, you will take clothes for Julie suitable for work... she has beco my personal assistant."

At that mont, I felt as if soone had poured a bucket of ice water over my head;

my body paralyzed completely, and I dug my nails into the palm of my hand so hard that I felt the pain stinging my skin.

I tried desperately to maintain a calm tone that hid the volcano of rage exploding inside , and said:

"Sir, you don’t like having a personal assistant... you were always against this and relied only on Ron."

He shot a cold look that froze the blood in my veins, and asked with a terrifying calmness:

"Are you Robert Cross?"

I stamred, feeling the words turn to stone in my throat:

"What?"

He repeated his question, narrowing his eyes at :

"I am asking you... is your na Robert Cross?"

I lowered my head in surrender and said in a faint voice:

"No, sir."

He approached with confident steps, so I held my breath and felt the aura of his dominance wrapping around , then he said in a tone as sharp as a blade:

"Then act accordingly, Olivia... you are not Robert to know what I like and what I hate. Watch the extent of your words next ti."

I nodded in agreent quickly, while my heart boiled like lava with hatred for that wretch "Julie."

He continued coldly as he bypassed :

"Call the maid to clean the office and take my shirt for washing... I am going to my room."

I watched his bare back in awe; the muscles of his shoulders moved with a lethal and provocative flexibility that I could no longer endure.

I remained in my place, my eyes fixed on his shadow until he closed the door behind him forcefully.

I moved like soone possessed toward his desk, and my trembling hand reached out to pick up his shirt lying there.

I brought the fabric close to my face, closing my eyes tightly as I inhaled his scent with a hysterical depth;

it was a mixture of heavy oud scent and the aroma of luxury tobacco that perated my pores,

leaving in a state of loss between my desire for him and my hatred for whoever would get close to him.

I relaxed my eyelids slowly, sinking my face into the warm fabric of his shirt, and whispered in a faltering tone that was barely audible:

"Why don’t you look at as I look at you, Mr. Robert? Why?"

I pressed my hand on the fabric soaked with whiskey and tobacco, as if I were trying to wrench an answer from its silent fibers.

My mory took back five years; to the first mont my feet stepped into this place.

I saw him then, and his dignity seed like a concrete wall a prestige that forces you to step back several paces before you dare to utter his na.

I ran my other hand over my hair strands, which I had changed the color of dozens of tis;

from platinum blonde to coal black, and from rebellious short to long flowing like silk.

I rembered how I used to stand before him in dresses that highlighted every detail of my body,

deliberately standing in his line of sight, adjusting my attire with slow movents,

hoping his eyes would lose their way and settle on for a single second... just one second.

But his icy fortresses did not crack.

He used to look toward with a coldness that kills ,

piercing eyes passing over as if I were air, or just another piece of furniture in this luxury office.

I opened my eyes suddenly, and the sparkle in them had turned into a sharp blade.

I tightened my grip on his whiskey-stained shirt, squeezing the fabric between my fingers with a hysterical force until my knuckles turned white and my forearms cramped from the sheer pressure.

I felt my nails digging into the palm of my hand through the fabric, as if I were strangling that girl between my fingers.

My breath rushed forth in succession, and my voice ca out as a poisoned hiss filling the void of the office:

"That wild sow... she succeeded in making you see her, she succeeded in shattering all your rules."

I smiled a twisted smile that distorted my facial features, and as I pulled the shirt toward my chest violently,

I felt a powerful tremor of rage running through my spine.

I tilted my head slightly, fixing my gaze on the door Robert had exited from, then added in a cold tone dripping with hatred:

"But I am the one who will end her."