Betrothed To The Mafia Lord novel Chapter 58

Sofia POV

When Luca had suddenly broken eye contact with me and disappeared deeper into the house without saying a thing to me– not like I was expecting him to, in the first place, I had thought it was because he was angry with something that he had probably encountered with at work or wherever it was that he went to.

I had no idea he was sick at that moment. I should have known, I guess? But when our eyes had connected, I was too busy focusing my whole willpower on not breaking eye contact with him ducking my head in embarrassment, which was probably why I hadn’t noticed how stressed out and tired he looked.

When Sarah had suddenly come down from the stairs, straight into the kitchen where I was currently in– with Matilda stirring the food she was preparing and quietly humming a Christmas tune beneath her breath, despite the fact that Christmas was coming anything soon— to ask Matilda to increase the heat of the boiling rice and to start the preparation of the chicken soup.

She then turned towards me and placed her hands on the counter before informing me, “Your husband is ill upstairs.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I had asked her after a few seconds, because what she had said made little to no sense to her ears.

“Mr Ricci is seriously ill upstairs. He’s burning up really badly and can’t even keep his eyes open for a long while. His head is also pounding seriously.” Sarah started to say again and I stared at her confusingly for a few seconds before her words started to actually sink into her head.

Oh.

“I had no idea.” I said feebly with a small shrug of left shoulder, my voice coming out slowly.

“It’s probably because he’s always overworking himself every time, and almost never eats healthy food. He never gives himself breaks or days off to rest and relax, he also doesn’t give enough thought to his health.” Sarah continued to say, sounding like she was scolding Luca through me and I remained quiet, staring blankly at my phone which was on the counter before me.

Oh, so he overworks himself?

He works?

Well… that’s actually unexpected.

I never expected him to actually be working or doing anything serious each day he leaves the house in the morning, I just automatically assumed he only leaves the house to have fun and flex with his friends and his multiple girlfriends – because he obviously has more than enough money to hire qualified people that can get whatever work that needed to be done, done for him immediately without stressing himself one bit.

All I used to think he did was just drink, have fun and have lots of sex with his numerous girlfriends.

So, this was definitely new.

And it was kind of making me see him in a whole different light. The picture I used to have of him in my head was starting to slowly change again.

At first, it was about me expecting him to be a beast to me on our wedding night who’d tear off my clothes and take what was his forcefully, without caring about how I was fairing, if I wanted it or whatnot... but that particular picture of him in my head started to change when days passed and still, nothing happened.

He steered clear of my way, leaves the house before I get to wake up, comes back home when I’d have fallen asleep… never, ever holds a conversation with me – except for the time he had come to see me at the hospital, and had ghosted his fingers ever so lightly over the skin of my injured arm – a gesture which made my stomach start to tighten up a little from just thinking about it and imagining that particular moment up again.

He had then proceeded to start a little conversation with me, he had also grasped my chin and tugged my face upward to make me stare into his eyes– and I had stare, with my eyes trying hard not to flutter while my stomach started to knot itself all over again.

It had been a really weird day for me, because of all the unexpected and unusual feelings I had felt jolt through my body that day, there at the hospital.

He had also talked to me in that voice of his which was deep and growly, that had sent a tiny shiver sliding down my spine.

I tried really hard not to think about how he had called me a ‘good girl’ there in the hospital. I tried really hard, but I couldn’t deny how those two words, although completely unexpected, had left a confusing feeling behind in my body– which I had refused to try to think about after that day, and I still wasn’t going to think about it tonight as well.

I glanced up from my phone which I had been staring at as I got lost in my thoughts and watched as Sarah prepared a tray, a few feet away from where I was seated on, on the counter. She placed a bottle of water on the tray, a glass cup, a plate of steaming rice, a plate containing a lot of different kind of drugs, two different types of spoons, and I watched as she walked towards a pot that was boiling over one face of the stove and letting the strong scent of chicken to waft around the kitchen – before scooping some of the content into a brown bowl and walking back towards the tray to place it on the tray.

She stepped back to admire her work before glancing up at me to suggest, “Would you like to come with me? So you can check up on him at once.”

I started to shake my head even before she was done taking, “Oh, no… no. I can’t.”

She stared at me confusingly and I noticed Matilda turned around from the rice she was dishing into a huge plate, to stare at me curiously the moment she heard my reply to Sarah’s suggestion.

“You can’t?” Sarah asked and I nodded my head immediately, reaching forward to pick my phone up from the counter to roll it around against my fingers in order to keep my fingers from fidgeting.

“Why?” She asked and I chewed on my lower lips, the question echoing in my head a little.

Why?

Well, why should I go see him? It wasn’t like I was a doctor or something.

I mean, what would I say if I go in there?

‘Hey Luca. Heard you’re not feeling all that well, get well soon’?

“No reason. I’ll just see him when I go up to bed later tonight.” I said to her with a small chuckle, hiding the fact that I was starting to fidget again, for no good reason.

Ok, perhaps me not wanting Sarah and Matilda to know the true relationship level of Luca and I was excuse enough.

“Uh, okay.” Sarah replied, dropping the subject immediately before lifting up the full tray and exiting the kitchen in the next second, the light sounds her slippers were making as she made her way upstairs, echoed on and on until it got too far away for my ear to still pick up the sounds.

Matilda turned around and stared at me like she wanted to say something, but ended up changing her mind when I looked at her pointedly until she turned back around to the soup she was currently stirring.

******

I slowly pushed the bedroom’s door open and peaked my head inside, the first thing I noticed was that the bedsheets were already changed and that Luca was in it already, with one side of the blankets wrapped around his neck. I stepped into the room through the doorway and pushed the door close behind me, making sure it doesn’t make any sound.

I made my way deeper into the room and stared down at Luca’s sleeping face.

This was the first time I was seeing him asleep throughout the whole week since we got married.

Maybe he was actually stressing himself too much.

I mean, I fall asleep before him and he gets up cubed before me, and also leaves for work while I maze around and do nothing throughout the day.

His face looked extremely peaceful, and smooth. This was the first time I was openly staring at his face for more than a second or two — because most times, when I stare into his face, I’d be unable to look past his hypnotizing eyes.

But now I was looking, and looking, because he was fast asleep.

And dare I say that he looked beautiful?

His eyelashes fanned across his cheeks and I noticed how long and curled up they were. I used to think my brother was the only male that got gifted with long and curly eyelashes, but Luca’s right here was proving me wrong because his seemed to be even longer than that of my brother’s.

His nose was curved in a way that fitted into the middle of his face perfectly.

His lips were small, the lower one fuller than the upper one, and they were a deep shade of pink.