Novel & Cerita Mom's The Word Sofia The First

For a second, all I could see was the resemblance. Milena had her eyes. Not the colour; the sadness. She carefully examined every exit before trusting the room. Ruin went rigid beside me, not from anger, but from the ghost of his brother suddenly standing in front of him through this woman’s presence. She stopped a few feet from the table. “My name is Sofia.” Her voice was steady. “I came because I am done letting dead men decide my daughter’s future.” The honesty of it struck me immediately. No posturing, no claim-first arrogance, just a mother who had reached her limit.

The scent of roses and bergamot came before the soft voice. Sofía Moguel. “I made whole-wheat toast. In the bottom drawer. And... she finished the warm orange-ginger juice earlier,” she said. Her voice was even, but there was a layer of exhaustion I could hear at the edges of every word. I nodded slightly. “Thank you, Señora.” “Pascha,” she said, now closer. “Call me Mama or Sofia. I think we passed the formality stage a long time ago.” I gave a faint smile. “Alright.”

Sofia froze, wide-eyed, clinging to him as his mother stood there, fury twisting her elegant features. “FUCK Mom, what are you doing here?” Grayson yelled, quickly pulling up his pants. “This?!” she spat, her eyes raking over Sofia’s half-naked body. “This is what you’re doing while your future slips away? While the heir is stolen from you?” Grayson’s breath came heavy, his lips still wet from Sofia’s skin. His mother’s words sank deep, laced with venom. “Or is this it, Grayson? Do you plan to give me a grandchild from her?”

“Oh dear, you should stay because I'm here for you” I stare at him with both anger and disgust. “What the hell did you just say to me?— “Sofia, what's with the tone?” Mom stands up, reaches to me quickly and grabs my arm. “Did you not hear— I snarl but when I look down to see my furry hands, I realize what I'm doing. Oh no, I almost shifted. “Relax Sofia” She whispered, both horrified and angry. “See, I told you she is still immature and inexperienced. You should drop the topic” Mom says to him.

She had completed the task which her mother was unable to finish. She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. Sofia heard the door open and footsteps, but she had gone numb. She was conscious of her surroundings, but her body couldn't move. Her mother warned her about using so much power, but she insisted on destroying all of them. She refused to live her life in constant fear that some witch or warlock would kill her. She was Sofia, and she would never live in terror. “Sofia” Martinez called and took her body, but there was no response from her.

The moment she closed the door, every tension in her body was released, and she leaned on the sofa listlessly. She remained still as she looked at the chandelier above her with a straight face, seemingly contemplative. There were things she should have done earlier. This was the time. Her heart was dead at this moment. … Sofia was taking care of Maurice in the hospital. That night, she heated up the meals she cooked for him, but he behaved just like he always did. He had no appetite whatsoever, even when the meal looked delicious. Sofia hopelessly closed the lid and gazed at Maurice kindly, albeit hurt. “You’re injured, Maurice,” she pleaded. “Please, take a bite.”

“There is no us or a future. You can not get pregnant again. You can not give me an heir. What future would that be? One without heirs, is nothing worth fighting for.” Sofia felt as though a stranger were the one talking not the ma she loved years ago. She would have touched him, would have held his hand, would have made him feel the nothingness in her, but the words would not come out of her throat. She was alone, she lost not only by the baby she has been growing, but also the man she trusted the most. "I..." She almost choked on the word, “I do not know whether I can do this. First, I lose my babies. Now want me to lose you?”

Sofia sat propped up against the hospital pillows, the afternoon sunlight casting a gentle glow across the room. She was growing stronger each day, though her body still ached and fatigue lingered. Luca sat beside her on the bed, one arm wrapped carefully around her shoulders, his large hand resting protectively over her stomach. “I still remember the day papà brought me home,” Sofia whispered, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “I was seven. Scared, quiet, with nothing but the clothes on my back. I didn’t know how to fit into a family like yours.”

Yep, my son is taller than I am. Suddenly, Luca pushed Damien from me. "My mummy". He glared at his brother hugging my neck. "Hey, she's my momma too". " No my mummy". "My momma" "Mine" "Nope buddy, she mine". "That's enough Dame, stop upsetting my baby". Luca pouted his lips. "Damien, clean Emma and Luca please and Lisa so wash up too. I'll clean the kitchen while you guys are at it.

I want to say something, but we’re interrupted by footsteps behind us. “Sweetheart.” My father’s voice booms down the hall. Behind it, my mother’s laughter. “You wouldn’t believe the traffic on the bridge...” I freeze. The blood drains from my face. Dante steps back half a pace, but his eyes don’t leave me. A split second, a sharp blow of reality, and I turn with a smile I don’t know how I manage so fast. “Sofia.” My mother watches me with sincere curiosity, nearly bursting with pride in her floral dress.