The Mafia’s Substitute Bride

Emma chimed in, her voice filled with genuine admiration. “I can see it, Sofia. You are glowing and looking more beautiful. My, my! The after-marriage glow suits you,” she complimented, a smile gracing her lips.

Sofia couldn’t help but be taken aback by Emma’s words. Emma had never been one to offer praise, and Sofia knew it for certain. She scanned the room, half-expecting to find Kat lurking in some shadowy corner, her piercing gaze drilling into Sofia’s very being. Yet, to Sofia’s surprise, Kat was nowhere to be seen.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Sofia turned to Carlo, seeking answers. “Where is Kat? Has she not come to the party?” Sofia’s voice carried a tinge of wonder, for it would be yet another unexpected twist if Kat had indeed chosen to be absent. Attending these high-society gatherings was practically Kat’s modus operandi. She would never pass up an opportunity to network with the heirs of wealthy families-an art Emma had instilled in her daughter from an early age, as Sofia had keenly observed during their shared upbringing.

Carlo’s eyes scanned the crowd, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. “Yes, she has come,” he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. His gaze locked onto Emma, his expression demanding an explanation. “Where is Kat, Emma? Shouldn’t she come and congratulate Sofia?” Carlo’s tone carried a touch of reproach, his disappointment evident in his scowl.

Today, an air of peculiarity hung between Emma and Carlo, something Sofia couldn’t quite decipher. Despite their enduring love for each other, there was an undeniable tension. Emma, the catalyst of Sofia’s mother’s tragic demise and the source of her father’s bitterness, appeared distant and aloof. Sofia sensed an unspoken conflict simmering beneath the surface.

Emma delicately retrieved her phone from a golden clutch and began tapping away, her actions drawing Sofia’s attention. “I texted her to come here. She might be busy with some friends,” Emma defended her daughter’s absence, her words carrying a hint of defensiveness. Sofia wondered why Emma felt compelled to justify Kat’s absence as if attempting to mask a deeper motive.

Unwilling to dwell on the matter, Emma swiftly changed the topic. “So, Sofia, when are you going to take over the Ricci Empire officially?” Her sudden interest in Sofia’s succession raised an internal alarm within Sofia. Suspicion tinged her thoughts as she pondered Emma’s intentions.

Sofia’s brows furrowed, her mind racing to make sense of Emma’s eagerness. Why was she so invested in Sofia assuming control of the Empire? Sofia couldn’t help but feel a surge of uncertainty welling up inside her. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she replied cautiously, “I haven’t decided yet. Perhaps I should wait until I graduate from high school and apply to university. I want to be sufficiently qualified to manage these enterprises successfully. Pursuing a degree in business seems like a logical step. In the meantime, Dad is already handling the affairs of the Empire.” Sofia’s words held a blend of determination and pragmatism, her gaze shifting towards Carlo.

As her eyes met her father’s, a flicker of pride lit up his face, warming Sofia’s heart. It was an unfamiliar sight, witnessing him genuinely happy for her. A surge of affection swelled within her, momentarily overshadowing her doubts.

Emma interjected once again, her proposal tinged with ulterior motives. “Yes, you are too young to bear the weight of this colossal Empire. Why not grant power of attorney to your dad? When you are capable enough to assume the responsibility, he will gladly hand over the reins to you. After all, he’s your dad,” Emma suggested, her words laced with subtle manipulation. Sofia couldn’t help but notice the glint of avarice in Emma’s eyes, reaffirming her long-held belief that Emma’s interests primarily revolved around money. But did her father share the same sentiment? Sofia found herself grappling with a multitude of emotions, unsure of how to respond to Emma’s proposition.

anding an explanation. “Where is Kat, Emma? Shouldn’t she come and congratulate Sofia?” Carlo’s tone carried a touch of reproach, his disappointment evident in his scowl.

Before Sofia could utter a word, Carlo intervened, speaking on her behalf with unwavering conviction. “No, Emma. My mother bestowed the Ricci Empire upon Sofia, making her the sole owner. She does not need to grant me power of attorney to ensure the success of our business. Until she graduates and obtains her degree, I will gladly manage and oversee all the affairs of the Empire. As a Ricci, it is my utmost duty to safeguard our family’s legacy and empire,” Carlo declared firmly, his words resonating with a profound sense of responsibility.

Pride surged within Sofia, flooding her heart as she heard her father’s unwavering support. Tears welled up in her eyes, her emotions threatening to overflow. Throughout her life, she had yearned for her father’s presence, even during the times when they resided under the same roof. Now, having found him once again, she tasted the significance of a father’s touch upon her life. It was a shield against the world’s uncertainties, a reassurance that she need not fear, for her father stood as her guardian, ready to shield her from all harm. It was an indescribable and profound sentiment, coursing through her veins and making her soul soar.

She quickly averted her face, attempting to brush away the solitary tear that cascaded down her cheek. However, her father’s perceptive gaze caught the glimpse of her vulnerability. Concern etched upon his features, he questioned her gently, “What happened, dear? Why are you crying? Is something amiss?”

Sofia’s voice trembled slightly as she tried to compose herself. “Nothing… nothing, Dad. I am just overwhelmed by emotions lately. I have found so many things in these past few days that I have yearned for my entire life,” she admitted, her gaze locked onto his, conveying a depth of understanding that transcended words.

Carlo pursed his lips, his eyes shimmering with remorse as he spoke. “I am sorry, Sofia. I have carried the weight of regret for far too long. I deeply regret how I treated you. You never deserved such treatment. I apologize for failing to be there for you as a father when you needed me the most,” he confessed, tears glistening within his own eyes, mirroring Sofia’s pain.

Overwhelmed by the magnitude of her father’s words, Sofia’s tears flowed freely, a torrent of emotions cascading down her cheeks. It was as if the floodgates of her heart had burst open, unable to contain the sheer intensity of the moment.

“I am sorry, Sofia, for not acknowledging your rightful place as my daughter. I am sorry for failing to shield you from the darkness that befell our lives.” Carlo’s voice quivered with remorse, a solitary tear escaping his eye and tracing a path down his weathered cheek.

Moved by his vulnerability, Sofia stepped closer, her gentle touch wiping away that lone droplet of guilt. Their hands intertwined, a tangible connection between father and daughter. “From this moment forward, you will always find me by your side in every situation and circumstance of your life,” Carlo vowed, his words laden with sincerity and a newfound resolve.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Sofia gazed deeply into her father’s eyes, her heart finding solace in the unwavering honesty she witnessed. Doubt and suspicion melted away, replaced by a profound sense of forgiveness and understanding. The weight of their shared pain seemed to dissipate as Carlo’s tears flowed, purging his soul of remorse.

With an overwhelming surge of emotion, Sofia enveloped Carlo in her arms, resting her head against his chest. It was an embrace brimming with tenderness and reconciliation, a moment of profound significance. For the first time in her existence, she embraced her father, their connection finally began to flourish. Carlo reciprocated, his arm encircling her petite frame, gently caressing her head as he wiped away the trails of tears adorning her cheeks.

“Mum, did you call me here to witness this emotional spectacle?” Kat’s bored voice sliced through the tender moment, jolting Sofia back to the present. Sofia reluctantly released her grip on Carlo and turned her gaze toward her stepsister. Kat stood there, donning a scandalously short silver dress that exposed more than it covered.

“Kat, mind your words. You are speaking of your father and your sister,” Emma reprimanded, her tone sharp with disapproval.

Kat pursed her lips, rolling her eyes in a display of contempt. “What is there to congratulate her for? She has been handed this Empire on a silver platter, despite being utterly unworthy. Judging by her looks, qualifications, and abilities, she shouldn’t even bear the name Ricci,” Kat spat out with disdain, her words laced with venom. Sofia winced, the hurt coursing through her veins. Kat never missed an opportunity to belittle her, to inflict verbal wounds upon her soul.