Let Me Go, My Mafia Husband (Aria and Alessandro) novel Chapter 363

Chapter 363 Midnight Supper
"I hope you haven't forgotten my voice," Sofia's stepmother, Emma, spoke on the phone, her words piercing the silence that surrounded Sofia.

"Of course, ma'am. How can I forget your voice?" Sofia's voice held a touch of formality, a reminder of the distant relationship she shared with Emma since her childhood. Sofia was never allowed to address her as 'mother,' and 'ma'am' had become the designated term of respect.

"Sofia, your father and I are missing you," Emma said, and Sofia was taken aback by those words. Her ears strained to confirm what she had just heard. Could it be real, or was she merely hallucinating? After all, there seemed to be no possibility that Sofia's father and Emma would genuinely miss her.

Yet, a spark of hope ignited within Sofia's heart. Her poor, yearning heart, always longing for their love, dared to believe that perhaps they had finally realized her value in the household after she had left them. Maybe they wanted to check if she was doing well, a glimmer of concern for her. After all, her father was her only blood relation.

Sofia remained silent, unsure of how to respond to Emma's unexpected revelation.

"Oh dear, don't you miss us? After your marriage, you haven't visited your parents' home, not even once. That's why I'm calling you now, to invite you for lunch tomorrow. Your father will be delighted to see you," Emma's voice resonated with a surprising politeness.

Sofia's eyes welled up with tears. She had always believed they had married her off to Leonardo Morelli as a way to rid themselves of her presence. The thought that her stepmother was inviting her for lunch was unimaginable, beyond anything she could have fathomed.

"Sofia!" Emma called her name once more, breaking the extended silence. Sofia snapped back to reality, realizing she had been lost in her thoughts for far too long.

"So, are you coming for lunch?" Emma's voice carried a mix of curiosity and urgency, a tone that Sofia had seldom heard. Overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions flooding her heart, Sofia gathered herself.

"Of course, I will be there," Sofia's voice trembled slightly, laced with both anticipation and apprehension. She longed to see her father, for he was still her dad, no matter what.

"That's great. We will be waiting for you. See you then," Emma concluded the conversation, and Sofia carefully hung up the phone.

As Sofia anxiously awaited Leonardo's arrival, she contemplated asking him if he could spare some time to accompany her on the visit to her parent's house for lunch.

**************

Sofia woke up to the sound of the main door opening. Throwing her legs down, she sat up straight on the couch, instantly alert. Leonardo walked in, holding his jacket in his hand, while the tie hung low around his neck. He had folded his sleeves up to the elbow, and the top buttons of his white shirt were unfastened. He looked visibly tired and exhausted.

"Hey!" he smiled upon seeing Sofia, glancing at his wristwatch. "You're awake. Why didn't you sleep?"

She stood up and walked towards him, taking his bag and jacket from his hands. "I was waiting for you," she replied softly.

He wrapped an arm around her, and they began heading towards their bedroom. As they ascended the stairs, Sofia asked him, "How was your day?"

"Hmmm... it was... good. How was your day?" he asked, returning the question.

"I went to school and brought home a lot of pending work. I spent the whole evening completing it," she babbled, trying to come up with an excuse to ask him about accompanying her to her parent's house.

"Alright. It sounds like it was a long day for you. But at least you managed to finish all your pending work," he remarked, gazing down at her.

They reached their room, and Sofia placed his jacket and bag on the table, taking out his casual sleepwear from the cabinet.

"Okay, you go and freshen up. If you want something to eat, I can make you supper," she offered.

"Can you cook?" he asked in surprise, making her giggle. If only he knew that she had been cooking her entire life.

"Of course, I can cook anything. Just tell me what you'd like," she responded, grinning.

"I've got a personal chef for myself," he teased, licking his lips.

Sofia shook her head at his playful remark and gently pushed him towards the bathroom. "You go and take a quick shower. I'll make something for you."

Sofia descended the stairs, making her way towards the kitchen. It had been nearly a month since she last cooked a meal. The anticipation of preparing something delicious for Leonardo filled her with excitement. With swift movements, she began to craft a hearty chicken soup, the aroma wafting through the air as it simmered. Setting the table neatly, she eagerly awaited his arrival.

"...and what did she say?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern.

"She said that she and my father wanted us to come to the Ricci mansion tomorrow for lunch," she revealed, noting the instant furrow that appeared on his forehead.

"And you didn't agree, did you?" he asked, his tone betraying a hint of anxiety.

"Why would I decline? It's the first time they've invited me since our marriage. I want to go and meet my parents," she replied, her voice filled with a mixture of determination and longing.

He stared at her, an indiscernible expression adorning his face. After a moment of silence, he spoke, his voice devoid of its usual warmth, replaced by a coldness she had rarely witnessed.

"Do you truly want to go for lunch?" he questioned, his piercing gaze penetrating her soul.

"Yes, and I want you to come with me," she hesitantly admitted, biting her lip anxiously as she awaited his response.

Nodding his head, he uttered, "Alright, Sofia. I will accompany you, despite my packed schedule. I'll instruct my secretary in the morning to clear my appointments for the second half of the day."

Her face lit up with joy, her hand gently encircling his neck as she grinned. "Thank you so much for agreeing to come with me."

He shook his head dismissively.

"I suppose you should have your soup now before it gets cold. Finish it quickly, as it's getting late, and we both have to wake up early in the morning," she suggested, motioning her eyes toward the bowl of soup.

"Feed me," he commanded in his authoritative tone, asserting his dominance.

Taking the spoon in her hand, she obediently began to feed him, remaining seated on his lap. There was a genuine sense of fulfillment she derived from serving him in every way, a testament to her love and devotion.