The Primo's Wife- Scratch that, I'm doing this my way (KHR fanfic)(Giotto x OC)

Chapter 9.5: The Exchangement of Letters (3)

'Hey'- Soren
'Hey'- Narrator-San
"Hey"- Soren's OOC
'Hey'- Author-San
'Hey'- Soren's intro
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Giotto's POV:

I sat in my studies going over paperwork. Contrary to popular beliefs in this town, I am not God, therefore, I will forever hate paperwork.

However, G had promised me a strawberry cake if I finish my quota for the day.

I sighed. Strawberry cake...

I decided to take a break, as my eyes were starting to squint at the words on the parchment.

I was still distracted. Especially after my visit inside the heir of the Corona Famiglia.

Speaking of which, about last night...

Flashback:

"You perverted Bastard!"

"Good luck, Giotto..."

"HIEEEEEEEEE!!!"

Flashback Ends

I don't want to think about it...

The rash decision I made to visit the woman who I hated with my entire being may have been a bad idea. Currently, I'm still nursing a few whelps on my head. That old man can certainly hit hard.

I have thought about testing her, Lady Soren, I mean, as my Hyper-intuition was telling me that she has not told me the whole truth.

Not that it's any of my business! I just don't want Vongola and Luca to get involved. I'm more worried the latter, though, as Lady Soren's grandfather was getting old.

But still, to let that brat take over his Famiglia, what is Luca thinking?! Letting someone as naive and selfish as Lady Soren, who doesn't even know her family is in the Mafia, become the heir!

I sighed. Thinking about all of this is giving me a headache.

Back to the topic...

Despite my hasty apology last night, now that I think about it, was a huge embarrassment on my part, she was still the same as she was when I met her at the party.

I wonder what caused her to change? Merely three days ago she was dressed in gaudy and heavy clothes, overly adoring herself with makeup and jewelry, and spending money let and right without a care in the world. Basically, she was a spoiled brat.

I mulled over this thought until-

Something that looked like a feather duster landed on my desk.

I nearly jumped in fright, until the thing I was afraid of turned out to be a pigeon. It held the Corona brand on one of its feet. The other had a letter tied around the ankle.

Curious, I looked at the pigeon suspiciously, only to be answered by a glare- who knew pigeons could glare?- I hesitantly untied the letter and began reading it...

'Dear Giotto Vongola,

I am writing this letter as a form of apology for last night. Please don't think too badly about my grandfather and my older brother. They can be... rather passionate, at times. I hope this still means we can reconcile the broken thread to our partnership.

You need not hold any love for me, as I have none for you. What I value is your willingness to be a competent friend and close ally for the sake of my family company.