Betrothed To The Mafia Lord

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.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

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.

Perhaps I should go get something into my stomach, perhaps it wasn’t even the cramps hurting my

stomach at the moment but the drugs I had taken on an empty stomach.

Or it could be the cramps since my hormones had priced to be messed up this afternoon after it had

made me start feeling extremely overwhelming emotion all of a sudden.

I breathed out a slow sigh and rolled out of bed when my stomach started to cramp really bad and

picked up my phone before making my way out of the bedroom, closing the door slowly behind me.

I moved down the stairs and climbed down carefully, pausing on the second to the last stair when my

stomach had started to hurt really bad and I had unconsciously let out a small cry of pain before going

down and sitting on the staircase while clutching at my stomach.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” A voice had called out from the end of the staircase and I glanced up and

stared into the eyes of Ryan. I nodded my head at him immediately and slowly pushed myself unto my

feet, clutching at the banister of the staircase to give myself more strength which it felt like my legs

were currently lacking.

“I am, just heading to the kitchen.” I replied to him, still clutching the banister and I faintly felt my legs

wobble a little.

“I heard a cry from here and thought that was you.” He started to say and I shook my head

immediately, feeling embarrassed color started to flood my cheeks.

I started to climb down the last two stairs and winced a little, biting on my lower lips to stop another cry

from slipping out, fully aware that Ryan was still watching me and had obviously figured out where the

cry he had claimed to hear was from.

Once I was on the last stair, I paused in my tracks to stare at my fingers which were tightly wrapped

around the banister, silently wondering how I was going to successfully make my way to the kitchen

without falling down on my face.

And worse, Ryan was going to witness everything.

Ryan was always around each time I was about to have an embarrassing moment, every time. It was

starting to be a little offing and extremely embarrassing that it had to be him EVERY TIME.

Countless embarrassing moments at this point… just why can’t Even be around whenever I am about

to have an embarrassing moment? Or better still, let the guards be far away from me when those

moments arrives.

I unwrapped my fingers from the banister I was tightly holding and started walking towards the kitchen,

grateful that my legs were even working even better than I expected when I was still standing on the

stairs and it had felt like wobbling from side to side.

Perhaps I had spoken way too fast because three steps away from the staircase, another sharper wave

of pain suddenly rushed into my stomach, stabbing at the sides and middle of my stomach all at once

and I groaned out a cry before my legs gave out beneath me and I starting falling down immediately.

But then Ryan caught me before I could end up hitting the floor, his arms holding me up around the

upper part of my back before he allowed me to sit on the floor, his hand still holding me up around my

shoulders— which I really appreciated because it felt like I’d lie down completely on the floor without

his hand holding me up, because how weak I was feeling at the moment.

“What’s happening to you?” I heard Ryan asked above me and I bit my lips, not knowing how I was

even going to start explaining myself.

How was I supposed to know that the drugs were going to start reacting in my body system this hard

and this strongly? I had after all been making use of those pieces of tablets and they had never felt that

strong in my body system.

“Mrs Ricci?” Ryan shook my shoulders a little as he called out to me for my attention and glanced up at

him, feeling guilty all of a sudden even though I’d never do something like this to myself on purpose.

“Thank you for not letting me fall down back there.” I started to say to him and watched as he ignored

what I had said before starting to question me again, hisusual blank expression shifting a little to reveal

a tiny bit of emotion. “What did you do to yourself? Did you overdose?”

“What?” I asked him, blinking a couple of time at him.

Why would I even think I could do that to myself?

Do I look like someone that could hurt herself to that extent?

Did I look like someone that could hurt her brother that way?

People who overdosed on purpose were indirectly calling on death… why would I want to do that?

Yeah, I know how bad and messed up my life was at the moment, but that still wasn’t enough reason

for me to want to indirectly off myself.

“Did you overdose yourself this afternoon? After I saw you about to shed tears this afternoon – and you

did shed a little tears before you finally left for your bedroom, did you overdose?” He demanded again,

speaking really fast and this time, not including the usual ‘ma’am’ which I was grateful for.

I felt extremely small as it felt like I was being scolded by him at the moment and his hand holding me

up wasn’t helping matters at all.

“I didn’t overdose myself, I’d never do that to myself.” I started to say in a small voice, feeling

embarrassed color flood into my cheeks at the thought of how I’d probably appear pathetic to anyone

who’s come in and see us in the position… like my way older was scolding the life out of me for

something I knowingly did wrong.

“What did you take then? You took something, didn’t you? You can’t tell me you didn’t.” He accused

me, staring at me like he expected me to not bother lying to him since he was going to somehow figure

out the truth.

“I didn’t take anything, ok?” I started to say again, a voice starting to get louder than the small voice I

was using before, before I continued after a few seconds. “I only took my tablets given to me at the

hospital, the normal dosage, why would you think I’d take an overdose?” I demanded the last part of

my sentence, wishing I could push his hand off my shoulders, but refrained form doing that since he

was still holding me up.

Ryan stared at me quietly without saying a thing for a few seconds before opening his mouth like he

was about to say something, but got off by a small cry which unexpectedly slipped out of my mouth as

a sharp biting pain stabbed into the depths of my stomach.

“Where does it hurt?” Ryan asked instead and I squeezed my hands around my stomach even tighter

than they were before and shook my head with my eyes squeezed tight.

“Everywhere,” I choked out, breathing out hard from my nose and sucking in a deep breath from my

mouth into my lungs every few seconds.

Just what had I done to myself?

Who else behaves like this if not a child?

“Everywhere?” Ryan asked as I nodded my head before sucking in another sharp breath and tightening

my grip around my stomach as another stab of pain embedded itself in different parts of my body at

once.

“What’s happening here?” A very familiar voice which sounded really far away from where I was

currently sitting asked and I forced my eyes open to stare up at Luca.

Another stab of pain came out of nowhere and stabbed in the middle of my stomach and I let out a

small cry before squeezing my eyes shut and tightening my hold around my stomach once again.

“I think she overdosed, sir.” I heard Ryan said in reply to what Luca had asked and wanted to argue

immediately but another stab of pain attacked my stomach at that very moment, making me let out

another painful cry.

The last thing I remembered was strong hands wrapping around my waist and underneath my thighs as

I felt myself being lifted high up against a firm chest, the familiar scent which I had come to love about

the bedroom I shared with Luca making its way into my nose before everything blackened out.