Betrothed To The Mafia Lord

Chapter 75

Sofia’s POV

“So um, I’ll need um, a room?” I paused and swallowed, looking at an empty spot on the desk as I

continued. “A room where I can have to myself just for painting, in case I make a mess while still

learning and trying to get a hang of it.”

I puffed out a harsh breath, trying not to get too loud as the breath sloshed out of my lungs due to the

amount of level my nervousness currently was.

What if he changes his mind and decides that I shouldn’t paint anymore?

What if he gets angry at me and just does something to me right now?

What if he…

“A room…” He started to say in a low voice and I shivered a little, wishing I could take back those

words about me needing a room to myself.

Why did I ever expect that Luca would be nice enough to give me a whole room all to myself, after

agreeing to give me permission to proceed with my idea of getting painting equipment and starting to

paint.

If that wasn’t asking for too much, I don’t know what that is.

“You can have one of the rooms downstairs. Ethan and Ryan would set the room up for you tomorrow.”

I whipped my head up and stared at him wide eyed, not believing what my ears had just heard.

He agreed?

He gave me one room to myself?

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” I gushed out, staring at him intently while unconsciously taking a step

forward.

“Thank you so much.” I ended up whispering and clasping my hands before me, on the top of my

stomach.

He nodded at me without saying a thing while also staring intently at me and I felt my face flush with

embarrassed color even more, making me duck my head to stare at my feet after a few seconds.

“Um, sorry to disturb you…” I said in a small voice as I turned around and started to make my way

towards the door, feeling his eyes digging into my body oh so intensely, goosebumps rising on every

exposed inch of my skin almost immediately as I stopped beside the door and pulled on the door knob.

The door opened and I finally ended up giving in to my curiosity and turning around to stare behind me.

My gaze locked with Luca’s immediately, which proved the previous point in my mind that he was

indeed watching me. Color rushed into my cheeks and I quickly stepped out of the office, refusing to lift

my head up, nor say anything else to him as I slowly and carefully pulled the door shut, to avoid the

door from jamming way too loudly.

I dragged in a huge deep breath and puffed it out in the next second, lifting my hands and wrapping it

around my mouth, in order to stifle my excited scream and sequels.

I finally did it.

He gave his permission!

I’m gonna start painting tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Oh my gosh.

I covered my mouth with my palms as I screamed into it once again, carefully walking past Luca’s office

door and making my way up the stairs in order to change my clothes and get my bag, because I was

going shopping for some painting equipment immediately.

I paused in the middle of the stairs and made my way back downstairs on realizing that I hadn’t

informed Luca that I was going to go shop for the painting equipment today. I bit on my lower lips a Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

little, contemplating going back to his office and knocking on the door, and once he lets me in, I’d just

ask for permission to go shop immediately.

I finally ended up dismissing the thought away from my head when it hit me that either Ryan or Ethan

could ask for permission on my behalf the way thru usually do each time I wanted to go out, it’s better

than me going back into his office and getting embarrassed in every two seconds.

I didn’t understand the kind of effect Luca had on me, but it was getting too much at this point and I

don’t know what to make of it anymore. This was the first time I had gone to meet him where he was

and started a conversation myself.

Wait, wait… what in the world am I even saying to begin with?

Was the thing we had right there in his office a conversation?

No, it wasn’t.

It felt so much like an interrogation session between the two of us, even though we haven’t ever been

interrogated in my entire life– although I have read so many books in which a scene or more of an

interrogation session were described and very detailed in it.

And what I had with Luca some minutes ago, right there in his office, was feeling so much like an

interrogation, the more I think about it and dwell on it even more.

I mean, I was stuttering every two seconds and for the life of me couldn’t bring myself to control the

amount of stutters I was making in a sentence.

I also didn’t manage to hold his gaze for more than two to three seconds before giving in to the urge in

the depths of my stomach to avert my gaze. There was just something about his gaze, I used to think

It was his eyes, because I haven’t ever seen eyes like that of his in my entire life, but at this point, I

think it wasn’t just about the color of his eyes.

I think it’s because of the owner of the eyes, along with the body in which the eyes were attached to,

and how intense his stares always are.

The particular moment where he had ordered me to look him right in the eye, I had almost fainted due

to how intense it had felt, and I was a hundred percent sure I wouldn’t have been able to hold his gaze

the amount of time I spent holding it– when he had ordered me to, without that order coming out in the

first place.

There was just something about him, apart from the fact that he was a very powerful and popular mafia

lord, there was something around him, like a long cape of something, that floats around him like pixie

dust follows fairies around. It was an aura that I hadn’t ever been able to feel around any other men I

had been close contact with, except Luca.

That particular aura around him screams and oozes so much power, it was choking and weighing down

my whole being when I was right there in the office with him. I could remember when I had been too

scared to say my initial reason for going in there in the first place and how I had started stuttering like a

damn child, and how my brain had quickly decided to help my laughable situation out by starting the

conversation by thanking him about yesterday when he had taken care of me, despite how sick he was

as well.

At first, after stuttering out a thank you to him and was already making my way out of the office since I

couldn’t for the life of me, bring myself to start talking about my actual reasons for coming into his office

in the first place. Unexpectedly, he had ordered me to stop just when I was about to pull the office door

back open and let myself out.

I had been shocked at first and for some reason, couldn’t bring myself to go against his order, and so I

had turned back around to stare at him while my heart thumped hard against my chest and ribs. He

had then ordered for me to come forward which I had unconsciously done without thinking and only

about a second long hesitation which lingered in my mind for a fleeting moment before disappearing.

He had then asked me to state my actual reason for coming into the office in the first place, since he

was sure I had come in there for a different reason. I was shocked at first, because I had no idea about

how he was able to figure out that I had come into the office for an entirely different reason.

I had then decided to start speaking about my actual reason for coming in there, and I had begun by

shuttering a lot and barely making any kind of sense, even to my own ears. I was really grateful he had

ached me to stop at a point and take in a deep breath because my lungs were empty at that moment

and I might have ended up fainting or doing something stupid, assuming I had been given a few more

seconds in that kind of state.

After taking in puffs of much needed breaths, my brain had already thankfully received a bunch of

boosts, because after a couple of trials, I was able to actually say about ten words without stuttering

after every two words, and I knew then that I was already thankfully making some kind of sense, even

to my own ears.

I had then proceed to tell him all what was in my mind, and surprisingly, he had agreed, which was still

so much of a shock — because, although I had been hoping he’d agree to it in my mind, a part of me

who still remembers all the things which I had heard about Luca before I got married, had been

whispering in the back of my mind that it sounded way too good to be true for him to agree to the idea

of me starting to paint in his house.