Chapter 19

In a fit of rage, Amelia didn't hesitate to storm out of the room and head straight for the car parked in the building's parking space.

Climbing into it, she could think of only one thing: making Julia regret ever showing up in front of her tonight with that son of hers and, even worse, hiring Michaelson to act like Liam's father.

Amelia's fists clenched as she ignored the car's engine and, in no time, zoomed out of the place, heading for the one location her thoughts had told her would be the best place to deal with Julia.

"I'm definitely sure you won't know what hit you this time, Julia. I'm sure you'll cry and beg this time! I've kept quiet all this while, and you keep seeing me as a fool?" Amelia scoffed, her foot pressing down hard on the pedal, increasing the car's speed.

"We shall see who the fool turns out to be!"

Amelia didn't slow down as she drove. She just wanted to get rid of the thought of Julia humiliating her.

After driving for a few minutes with anger bubbling in her veins, she finally stepped on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt.

Turning her eyes toward the shop across the road, she couldn't help but let a satisfied smile form on her lips.

"Finally," she said under her breath with a hint of bitterness before she stepped out of the car. She walked briskly toward the pawnshop, her steps echoing with purpose.

This was the pawnshop she had been aiming for—the place she knew would be unforgiving towards Julia. As she reached the entrance, she pushed open the heavy door.

A small bell above the door jingled softly, announcing her arrival. She entered with a determined stride, her face set in a fierce, intimidating glare, ready to face whatever was inside.

Amelia was trembling with fear inside, but she masked it with a fierce anger and a determined attitude toward Julia.

"What do you want?" a deep, authoritative voice came from behind the counter, pulling Amelia's attention away from the hostile stares of the others in the shop.

She turned toward the source of the voice, her face set in a stubborn scowl. "I want to see your boss!" she demanded, her voice sharp and unwavering. The man behind the counter burst into loud, mocking laughter at her request.

"My boss?" he said between chuckles, his amusement quickly fading as he noticed the seriousness in her eyes. "If I were you, I'd get out of here while you still can!"

"I'm not leaving!" Amelia shot back, her voice firm and resolute. "I need to speak to your boss. I have something important for him." Her stance remained firm, showing no sign of retreat.

The man studied Amelia closely, his eyes narrowing as he took in her fierce determination and unwillingness to back down. He could see the fire in her eyes and the strength in her posture.

"Alright, let’s say the boss is here," he said, his tone shifting to a more cautious one. "What exactly do you need to ask him? And why should he listen to you?" His gaze remained locked on Amelia, clearly intrigued by her resolve.

"I want your boss! I won't speak to anyone else except your boss. I know you all belong to a mafia gang!" she asserted, her eyes briefly glancing around at the other men.

They had stopped what they were doing and focused their attention on Amelia. Imagine being the only lady in the midst of men—in the midst of a mafia gang?

"I’d think you should—" The man behind the counter was cut off as a deep, commanding voice echoed through the shop, coming from behind the men who had been glaring at Amelia.

"Come to me, Amelia Thompson."

Amelia spun around, her breath quick and uneven as she saw the crowd of men parting to clear a path. As the men moved aside, she saw a figure emerge from behind them. He was a fair-skinned man, his face partially hidden by a mask. He held a cigarette between his fingers and wore a hat that shadowed his eyes.

Dressed in a sleek black suit, the man’s features were obscured, making it difficult to get a clear view of him from where Amelia stood. The dim lighting and the mask added to the aura of mystery around him.

Determined and with her fists tightly clenched, Amelia stepped forward, making her way closer to where the man was seated. Her eyes were fixed on him, recognizing him as the boss she had come to see.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand resting on the desk in front of him, and a faint smell of tobacco wafted through the shop. He looked at Amelia with a cool, indifferent gaze.

"So tell me, why do you want to see me?" he asked, his voice smooth but carrying an edge of authority.

Amelia, with a sense of urgency and frustration, blurted out, "I want to pay you to deal with someone! Beat her up, but don't kill her!" Her words hung in the air, causing the mafia boss to pause briefly, his expression unreadable.

After a moment of silence, the boss's lips curled into a smirk, and he began to laugh, the sound mocking and dismissive.

"Did I say something funny?" Amelia snapped, her frustration growing as she saw his reaction.

"If you want to deal with the girl who stole your toys, I think you should go to the police and not come here. We're mafias... we kill, we don't leave traces!" he uttered through gritted teeth, his tone sounding dismissive.

"But she needs to stay alive so I won’t be suspected," Amelia argued desperately, her voice rising with frustration. However, her reasoning did little to change the boss's stance.

"Get her out of here!" the boss commanded with a sharp, authoritative tone. Instantly, two large, burly men approached Amelia from behind. Their strong hands gripped her arms tightly, and they began to pull her forcefully toward the shop's exit.

Amelia knew it was wiser to leave now rather than risk further provoking the boss. If she continued to push, he might take out his anger on his own men. She fought against their hold, trying to free herself. "Let me go! I'm not done yet!" she pleaded, her voice echoing with desperation, but her cries fell on deaf ears.

"You should be grateful I didn’t order them to kill you right here and now!" the boss muttered under his breath, barely audible but filled with menace.

Just as they reached the door and prepared to throw her out, Amelia’s next words captured the boss’s attention.

"What if I let you do whatever you want to her, but don’t kill her?" Her voice cut through the tension in the shop, her eyes locking with his.

The boss’s hand shot up, signaling his men to stop. The two hefty men paused, holding Amelia in place.

Beneath his mask, a sly smirk played on his lips. He slowly picked up his walking stick and stood up, his movements deliberate and measured.

Each step he took resonated with an air of danger and authority as he approached Amelia.

"Do you understand the full implications of what you just proposed?" he asked, his voice low and intimidating, with his brows raised in a challenging manner.

Amelia swallowed hard, her throat dry and her heart racing. "Yes... yes..." she stammered, nodding vigorously.

"Who is she?" the boss demanded in a voice that was both soft and chilling, his gaze piercing through her.

"She is Julia Thompson! I want her dealt with, so..." Amelia continued, but before she could finish her explanation, the boss cut her off with a gesture.

"Your sister?" he inquired. "You want a mafia group to deal with and have raw sex with your sister?"

"If that's what it takes to get her out of the way, then I'm willing to do it! Anything," Amelia declared with fierce determination. The boss nodded in response, acknowledging her commitment.

"You've got it then," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Having a little fun with the Thompsons might be entertaining. But what's the catch?" He inquired, his eyes narrowing with curiosity as he watched Amelia inch closer.

With measured steps, Amelia moved toward him. Placing her hand on his chest, she leaned in close, her lips curling into a menacing sneer. "Your wish will always be my command," she said with a dark edge to her voice, her eyes locked on his with unyielding resolve.