Chapter Four
Robert's Point of View
I didn't wait for a response from her; the look of utter shock on her face was enough for me. I turned coldly and walked toward the door, the sound of my shoes on the marble floor being the only thing breaking the heavy silence of the room.
I stood at the threshold for a moment without looking back, then closed the door behind me with a terrifying calmness, leaving her drowning in the swamp of truth.
Olivia was still standing in the hallway, eaten alive by curiosity; perhaps she wanted to know the result of the match, unaware that I had already killed the referee.
Her eyes asked a thousand questions, but her mouth remained shut. I looked at her and spoke in a tone that brooked no argument:
"Bring the guard who hit her to my office. Now."
I left her and walked away.
I entered the office, sat behind my wide desk, and waited for Olivia to arrive with the guard. The dim light of the office reflected my stern features on the polished surface of the desk. I didn't need to do anything, only wait; for those who have wronged me, waiting is a punishment in itself.
A faint knock came from the door; I could feel that guard praying to every kind of god that I wouldn't be there, but the sound of my voice saying "Come in" turned him into an atheist.
Olivia entered, followed by the guard whose back was bent like an old man's, clutching his hands which were sweating profusely. He didn't even dare raise his gaze to meet mine; fear wafted off him like a foul carcass.
I stood up from my desk and stopped in front of him, feeling his body shrink despite his large size. He looked as if he were trying to hide inside himself, as if his bulk had become a burden in the presence of my silence, which was devouring him alive.
I approached him and said calmly:
"Little princess... don't you know the rules of this place?"
He spoke in the voice of a child caught by his mother for punishment:
"Mr. Robert... I lost my temper when I saw her destroying the place."
I looked at him with a look of feigned wonder and asked:
"Really? Is it the time of your monthly period?"
A deadly silence filled the office. I felt Olivia holding her breath behind him, while the guard's face flushed with every shade of shame. His excuse of "losing his temper" was not acceptable in my world.
He finally raised his head, but with great caution, revealing a large wound on his forehead. He said:
"Mr. Robert... this is no ordinary girl. She hit me with a chair like a madwoman; that's why I had to stop her."
I looked at the ugly wound decorating his forehead, then returned my gaze to his frightened eyes. His defense did not impress me; rather, it disgusted me that a slender girl was able to leave a mark on one of my men. By this act, he confirmed to me that he was not only unable to control his temper, but also unable to control my "property" without using excessive force.
I said:
"A little girl made your head bleed and left your nerves frayed... and you defend yourself before me with such confidence?"
I fell silent for a single second, enough for him to hear his own ragged breathing, then continued:
"You don't realize the disaster; the fact that she hit you with a chair means she possesses a courage that you lack. And the fact that you hit her back means you are not a man, but merely a broken tool that knows nothing but violence against those weaker than you."
I looked at Olivia and said:
"You can leave now."
Olivia retreated with quick steps and closed the door quietly behind her, leaving behind a terrifying silence broken only by the sound of the guard's tightening breath. Now, the masks had fallen, and there was no more room for excuses or "little princesses."
I asked him in a low whisper that resembled the Angel of Death:
"Which hand did you hit her with?"
He looked at me in shock; words froze in his throat and the color drained completely from his face. He remained silent like a statue. I didn't give him long. I took another step toward him until I could hear the rattle of fear in his chest and said sternly:
"Don't make me repeat myself."
He extended his trembling left hand and said in a broken voice:
"Sir, forgive me, please..."
But his sentence did not end in silence; it ended with a piercing scream that shook the corners of the office because of the break I inflicted in cold blood.
I didn't even blink as I heard the sound of bones shattering under the pressure of my hand; that sound was the only melody that could balance the scales after he dared to touch what belongs to me.
I called the guard "Ron" to enter; his face appeared paler than usual, as if he had inhaled the scent of death coming from behind the door. He said in a shaky voice:
"Yes, sir."
I sat on the chair with total coldness, while the other man was still groaning at my feet, and I said to him:
"Drag this princess out... the world of demons does not suit her."
Ron nodded and went to pull the guard who was moaning in pain, especially when Ron reached out to him and he screamed. I said:
"Ron... be careful."
Ron looked at me with a large question mark on his face, so I spoke to erase it with my usual coldness:
"Watch the carpet... I don't want it stained."
Ron froze in place for a moment, then nodded silently and dragged that human wreckage away carefully, as if moving a piece of damaged furniture that didn't matter if it broke further.
I touched my face again, the place that tasted the slap and the spit for the first time from the girl with the green eyes. There was no resentment; instead, there was a new appreciation for her value. I smiled and said to myself:
"I will sell you to an important client, you little troublemaker.".
Her distinctive rebellion was exactly what the club lacked; adding her to the list will make customers multiply her price many times over, alongside her virginity and unique beauty.