Chapter Three:
Robert's Point of View
I didn't expect to be slapped by a little girl. The slap had little effect on my face, but its impact inside me awakened all my senses and made me surprised by her ability to confront me.
It wasn't a painful slap; it was like a cold sting on my face, but it carried all the signs of a rebellion that had crossed the lines by many stages. Her voice, which woke the beast inside me from its slumber, pushed me to resist it so that it wouldn't appear in public.
I saw Olivia, who was astonished by this; perhaps she thinks that I will now pull out my pistol and fire a bullet into the middle of her small forehead, ending the role of the rebel and letting the beast win.
My guards, although they were behind me, I could feel their frozen stillness and their long-held breaths, watching in total shock. Everyone was wondering about my reaction, while I was focusing only on her green eyes that resemble the Amazon rainforests...
I watched her trembling feet on the bed even though she was trying to hide them professionally; the veins of her neck were tightened like tree roots extending from the forests of her eyes. And that bandage that ruined her face, for some reason, was giving more sharpness to her innocent face.
Someone like me, whom no one can stand against, has just been slapped by his commodity... and before the eyes of his workers.
I raised my hand smoothly, making the silent room sink into a deeper silence, and making Julie lose her balance on the bed where she was trying to dig her toes firmly into it. I passed my hand over her bandage and said coldly:
"I like wild cats very much... is this your only slap, or is there another slap waiting for its turn?"
The veins of her neck relaxed as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on her; her trembling lip and her small hands that were clutching her pants, everything about her was declaring surrender despite the forests of anger in her eyes.
I continued with a provoking calmness:
"I understand... there is no other slap. Can we now take care of your wound that disfigured your beautiful face?"
My hand was still over her face, sensing its high heat, as if I were touching embers that refuse to die out. But she returned to resistance once more after minutes; she pushed my hand away with a strength I didn't expect from her exhausted body and said:
"Don't touch me again... do you understand?"
I laughed at this sentence of hers; for I am Robert Cross, no one can command me, rather I am the one who gives the orders.
I signaled with my hand to Olivia, who was watching in awe; she understood my signal and left the room, taking the two guards with her. Their departure did not please them, for I had deprived them of the pleasure of watching a final match.
The sound of the door closing was the beginning of her features changing to fear; I saw her pupil dancing inside like a trapped bird looking for an exit. I said, the laughter still on my lips:
"Now we are alone... do you want me to show you how well I understood the 'no touching' lesson?"
My words fell upon her like a thunderbolt from the sky; I realized the extent of her fragility as she tried to stand firm, as if the presence of Olivia and the guards had granted her more safety than she feels now. Her body was retreating backward without her realizing it, and she stammered a little while trying to get her sentence out:
"I will kill you if you approach me!"
I laughed again at her threat, which frightens no one, and certainly not me. I pulled her toward me like a fragile feather and placed my hand on her thin, sculpted waist; the accelerated beats of her heart were piercing my ears. I restrained her arms with my other hand and said in a deadly whisper:
"How will you kill me now?"
Her whole body was screaming and asking me to move away, but she was like a gazelle in the hunter's grip, helpless and powerless. I enjoyed seeing her brokenness and weakness between my hands; how her mouth was exhaling hot air like the fires of a small dragon. The pressure that appeared on her eyebrows as an attempt to escape from me, and her long brown hair that was falling on my arm, covering it...
Watching her details as she tried to turn her face away from me made me intoxicated; finally, I was able to see her helplessness clearly, and even she now... sees it.
I felt her body stiffen between my arms; she stopped resisting me and looked at me with her piercing gaze. Her stillness was considered a surrender, but her looks were saying something else: "I challenge you, Robert Cross, despite my helplessness."
Then, suddenly, I felt the heat of a sticky substance on my face... she had spat on me without me expecting this.
I released her from my hands, and her body hit the bed like a lifeless corpse, and I took out my black handkerchief. I wasn't just wiping her spit; I was wiping my dignity and my pride with it.
I was looking at her state; a small wounded gazelle lying on the bed, but her looks were like those of a fierce lioness. How could this body and innocent face stand against me?
I watched her stand on her feet once more, but this time she got down from the bed and stood before me in her real small size.
Although she was tilting her entire head back to see me, she was carrying more courage than necessary; a courage that might cost her her life without her knowing.
She said defiantly:
"Go on... hit me as your man did before!"
She surprised me with this request of hers while in that wretched state; she insulted me with her request more than her slap and her spit, because she thinks I am the type of man who hits women.
I approached a little and said to her in a clear and calm voice that carried within it a threat of another kind:
"I do not hit women... little one."
She tilted her head to the right side and smiled, even though I saw the expressions of pain on her face; for the smile will make the pain of the wound greater. She said with biting sarcasm:
"You don't hit women... but you buy them? You really are an honorable man!"
I saw how she is now trying to attack me with her words, thinking that I might be affected, but she doesn't know yet whom she is dealing with. I tilted my head down so I could reach her level and said in a calm hiss:
"Yes, Julie... I buy them, as long as there are fathers ready to sell their daughters to me."