Assigned to Her [Mafioso Book#4]

Chapter XIX: Birthday

As Marco had promised, he had come a week after having moved to the estate.

Entering their shared apartment, he had let out a surprised sound to be tackled in a hug by Sofia, who held onto him for dear life, and buried her face into the crook of his neck. Not her proudest moment, she had to admit, but it was exactly what Marco had needed when he held her just as tightly.

They had sat on the sofa and Marco had explained the situation as best as he could without endangering her life.

But all that had been over a year ago.

Sofia hadn't seen him over the last year, and the only assurance she had of his wellbeing were their short text messages. Her question of "Alive?" being responded by his "living".

It made her embarrassed to know that she missed him over the course of the year. Thinking she didn't have any reason to, given how even when he had been living here, he had hardly been home. Working throughout the day, spending his nights with girls, and returning around sunrise only for the cycle to repeat itself. But then she recalled that there were days where he would come home after work and the two would sit down for dinner and talk, and that was something she had looked forward to.

Over the course of this one year, she had settled well into her new workplace and was quickly promoted – much to everyone's surprise – and made a couple of good friends who dropped by every once in a while, and would be coming over today for her twenty-fourth birthday.

After work, she had picked up her dress and the groceries she needed before returning home to prepare the dinner.

She had lasagna waiting to be put in the oven along with garlic bread, balsamic tomato baked chicken with mozzarella, and spinach ravioli.

Putting everything to the side, she put an alarm on her phone to remind herself to cook it all an hour and a half before the guests arrived. Putting out all the crockery and cutlery on the dining table, before setting the dishes and platters for serving on the kitchen counter.

As she was setting the table, she couldn't help the smile to recall the time Marco had taught her how to cook and set the table, knowing in her heart that he would be proud of how far she had come. She could even imagine the teasing smile and remark he would give her if she were to tell him that from her group of friends, she was the best cook. Expecting a response along the lines of "the others must be horrible cooks then". The thought having her chuckle to herself.

Finishing the table setting, Sofia stood next to the dining table and swept her eyes over the apartment, ensuring that everything was neat and clean and ready to accommodate guests.

Her eyes shooting up at the sound of keys jingling outside the door.

Holding her breath she stared at the front door, praying it was whom she wanted it to be and not some burglar. Her heart racing to see the door open before a wide grin spread across her face.

"Marco!" She squealed in delight and walked over to him, hugging him as he was closing the door.

"Hey," He chuckled and placed a kiss on the top of her head, enveloping her in his arms before he suddenly pulled back and held her at arm's length, his eyebrows furrowed as Sofia looked up at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"Your hair," He blinked, recalling how a year ago it had been a fiery red and down to her chin, but now that he was looking at her again, they were golden. "What happened to your hair?"

"Oh!" Sofia touched a stray strand that escaped from her top knot. "I'm a natural blonde. I had dyed them red because in America everyone held the dumb blonde stereotype against me, so I dyed them into a color that made me look...well...fierce. But then the color faded into this disgusting orange and I got bored with them anyways, so I changed them back to the original,"