Betrothed To The Mafia Lord novel Chapter 60

Sofia’s POV

I closed the bedroom door the moment I got into the room and leaned against it as I dragged breaths into my lungs while blinking repeatedly. Once my breaths were starting to come out at a normal pace once again, I moved away from my spot against the door and walked deeper into the bedroom, heading straight for of the bean bags chairs in the room and the other side of the bedroom and sank into it, pulling my legs up and warping my arms around it.

I dragged in another deep breath and puffed it out ever so slowly, my ribs rising and falling along with the slow intake and exhale I was performing in order to calm myself down and stop the tears that had been about to once again fall down since the moment I exited Ryan’s presence.

I was going to blame these unusual overwhelming emotions that had suddenly come to visit me this afternoon on my period. Yeah, it had got to be it.

My hormones are most definitely messed up at the moment, hence the urge to cry.

I shifted a little and sank more comfortably into the beanbag while questioning myself as to why I was just sitting in this chair for the first time since the day after I arrived here… it felt so comfortable and had warmed up to me immediately.

My mind started to slowly drift off to the article I had read in the sitting room, on my phone, this afternoon – right before I had started thinking about other things, like some of the things that had happened between my parents and I which had all ended up in making me unnecessarily emotional, and I had been almost about to shed tears, before Ryan had showed up.

I moved a little in the beanbag, stretching out my legs and allowing them to dangle over the chair as I dragged in a deep breath and allowed it to flow out of my lungs through my mouth ever so slowly. I absentmindedly cradled my right arm, my fingers lightly tapping away on the spot where hadn’t been hurting at all from the very start, on realizing what it was that I was doing, I stretched my arm out to check once again if I was going to feel any kind of pain – and a small pull of pain did vibrate in the middle of my arm, compared to this morning when it hadn’t hurt one bit, making me say to myself that I wasn’t going to be making use of the drugs given to me by the doctors anymore and would only attend the set appointment for checkups tomorrow and that was it.

I guess I was going to make use of the said drugs this evening and before I go to bed tonight, just to be more sure about my arm being completely fine.

My mind drifted back to the article and I ended up agreeing with myself that I was going to start learning how to paint.

The word ’Painting’ had almost never crossed my thoughts throughout my whole life except whenever Angelo mentions it to me, seeing as his big dream was to further his education, studying architecture and he had always been enthusiastic whenever he was discussing it, his eyes having that particular spark in his eyes that I’ve always loved to see in his eyes so much. I haven’t bothered pointing out to him that his choice of career would ever end up changing at a point and that there was only a very slim chance of it being the same one he had chosen when he was really younger.

He had asked me what I’d like to study in future at a point when he was just nine years old. I had crackled out a humorless laugh and asked him who told him I was going to be furthering my education? And that where was it ever heard off in the mafia world that a woman had furthered her education past high school.

He had stared at me weirdly and had demanded I explain what I had said to him further since he hadn’t understood any of what I had said but I had shook my head and distracted him with something else, and that was the end of the conversation. As he grew up and understood how things in our world worked, he never brought up that topic because he knew where I was going to end up once I came of age– right since he clocked eleven.

Angelo was such a smart kid and even before he clocked thirteen, he had started helping me with somethings as well. And ever since then, it wasn’t just about me giving and giving but also about me receiving as well.

I watched him grow up– and had practically been the one to bring him up to be who he was today, or to be who he was until the day I got married off to Luca, because I honestly had no idea about how he was fairing back at home without me.

I shifted a little in the soft chair, different cushions pressing into my head and back as I checked the time on my phone. It was currently some minutes past six p.m and I moved around a little before finally lifting myself out of the chair and heading towards my side of the bed.

There, I sat down on the bed and picked up my drugs which I had been given by the doctor at the hospital for my arm injury. I know fully well that I shouldn’t be making use of drugs on an empty stomach, but I didn’t feel like getting anything into my stomach and wanted to make use of the drugs so bad because I hadn’t made use of it this morning, and that could be the reason why the inside of the arm was starting to hurt me a little.

I made use of the water on the table and swallowed the whole drugs down before returning the tablets unto the bed side table once again. I stood up and made my way into the bathroom where I washed my hands thoroughly until the smell of different kinds of tablets completely left my fingers.

I returned back into the bedroom and sighted a gun and a bottle of water on the side table on the side of Luca’s bed.

Someone who makes use of a gun is automatically a bad person, right?

I breathed out a sigh and moved away from his side of the bed, towards mine where I flopped into the bed and stretched my arms out a little, the soft material of the black bedsheets scratching soothingly against the exposed skin of my body where the gown I had on hadn’t been able to reach well.

So, I was going to start painting everyday, and I was going to be doing it because I wanted to be better. It was going to have to be my biggest priority in life from the moment I’d get it.

I started to wonder where I was going to be drawing in. The bedroom wasn’t a good option because I didn't know what I’d do if I mistakenly got paint everywhere in the room while trying to get a hang of it.

I was going to need somewhere else, maybe a corner or some spot where I wouldn’t have to worry about getting something important stained with paint.

But what if I ended up not getting a hang of it? Knowing that I wasn’t going to be getting any physical training or teachings and would have to totality rely on the tutorials I was going to be finding on YouTube.

Or I could just leave the painting out of my mind and focus on baking?

But have I ever been interested in anything concerning baking anything?

I honestly had no idea my inability to prepare a thing in the kitchen was because I wasn’t ask to do so while growing up, or because I had never purposed you do it throughout my life while growing up — because I’ve somehow known at the back of my mind that I wasn’t into anything concerning the preparation of food or anything that concerns baking either.

I guess I’d have been forced to know how to prepare different kinds of foods while growing up whether I wanted to or not, or whether I loved it or not— but I wasn’t brought up to learn how to do any kind of domestic chore like cooking, other than cleaning my room myself and making my bed, and that was all.

And now that I think about it, I think I was going to end up picking the option to learn how to paint instead. It sounded really fresh to my ears, and coming to unravel it and figure out how everything works and it could end up being a lot more fun than I was expecting.

I turned around on my stomach and squeezed my left palm underneath my stomach to press my palm against my stomach when it started to slightly cramp. I didn’t need a soothsayer to point out to me that my stomach was going to hurt a whole lot throughout the night the whole of tomorrow.

I moved a little and pressed my hand more firmly against the lower part of my stomach, wondering why my stomach was starting to cramp up seriously by this time– when it normally starts seriously at midnight on the first day.

I turned around unto my stomach and grabbed one of the pillows, pressing it absentmindedly against my stomach as I chewed on the side of my lips a little, my teeth tugging on the lower part of my lip over and over again.

I reached my right hand forward in the bed and grabbed up my phone, waving the phone over my face so the phone could unlock automatically. I checked the time first after the phone got opened and chewed on the inside of my lips as my eyes settled on the time. It was thirty minutes past seven p.m in the evening at the moment.

I wonder if Luca was already making his way home now.

Come to think of it, he was extremely sick last night and just today, he was already overworking himself and staying out this late.

Or he was going to end up coming back home the normal time he does? After I had fallen asleep?

Not that it was any of my business, I was only a little worried about his health I guess. He could do whatever he wants with his life if he wanted it.

I turned around and laid over the pillow, pressing my stomach into it when it started to cramp once again.