Chapter 60: A Fiancée’s Unwanted Dinner [2]

The waiter returned with the first dishes, and the plates were placed across the table.

Sofia looked at the food, then at Lorenzo.

"You’re paying for all of this, right?"

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow.

"Obviously."

"Good."

She picked up her fork.

"If I’m going to waste my evening here, I might as well eat well."

Lorenzo watched her begin eating and smiled to himself.

At least she was finally acting like his fiancée should.

Or so he thought.

Within minutes, his right eye began to twitch.

There was nothing proper about the way Sofia was eating. She was clearly doing it intentionally to irritate him, and, unfortunately, it was working.

Crack!

He cracked his middle finger and let out a sigh.

Calm down, Lorenzo. It’s fine. You’re in control.

Sofia glanced at him and couldn’t help smirking.

Lorenzo noticed.

His eye twitched again.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

Sofia picked up a piece of steak with her fork and deliberately dropped it back onto her plate. She cut another piece, dragged it through the sauce, and brought it to her mouth.

She chewed slowly, making no effort to maintain the table manners Lorenzo valued so much.

In fact, she seemed determined to do the exact opposite of everything he considered proper dining etiquette.

And she was enjoying every second of it.

"Lorenzo," she suddenly called.

He looked at her.

"Could you pass me the salt?"

It was right beside her plate.

Lorenzo stared at the salt shaker, then at Sofia.

She stared back innocently.

After a long silence, he picked it up and passed it to her.

"Thank you."

Sofia smiled sweetly before sprinkling an unreasonable amount of salt over her food.

Lorenzo’s smile stiffened.

She’s doing this on purpose.

The Sofia Moretti he remembered was elegant, well-mannered, and careful with her words. Even when she disliked something, she rarely expressed her displeasure so openly.

But the woman sitting across from him seemed determined to destroy every expectation he had of her.

Her white hair fell loosely over her shoulders as she leaned back in her chair, eating without the slightest concern for appearances. Every so often, she glanced at him with that irritating little smile, as though daring him to complain.

And Lorenzo Riina hated being challenged.

Especially by his own fiancée.

He took a slow breath.

Calm down, Lorenzo. She’s just eating. People eat. That’s normal.

He picked up his glass and took a sip of water.

Then Sofia reached for a napkin, missed it, and knocked her spoon onto the floor.

Clang!

Lorenzo’s fingers tightened around his glass.

Sofia looked down at the spoon.

"Oh."

She turned toward the waiter standing nearby.

"Excuse me, could I have another spoon?"

"Of course, miss."

The waiter quickly brought her a replacement.

Sofia thanked him and resumed eating as though nothing had happened.

Lorenzo slowly set his glass down.

"Sofia."

"Hm?"

"Are you feeling uncomfortable here?"

She tilted her head.

"Why would I be?"

"You seem to be having trouble eating properly."

For a moment, Sofia stared at him in silence.

Then she laughed.

It wasn’t particularly loud or mocking, but somehow, that made it worse.

"Is that really what you’re concerned about?"

Lorenzo’s expression remained unchanged.

"Shouldn’t I be?"

"Of course." She nodded solemnly. "I’m terribly sorry. I’ll make sure to consult you before deciding how to chew my food next time."

His smile disappeared.

Sofia lowered her head to hide her grin.

There it is.

For once, she had managed to irritate him without enduring one of his unwanted touches or listening to him talk about their supposed future together.

It was a small victory, but she’d take it.

She wanted to understand him better. What irritated him? What made him lose his composure? And, most importantly, what could she use against him when the time came?

Sofia continued eating, observing his reactions from the corner of her eye.

Lorenzo, meanwhile, was beginning to question every decision that had led him to this restaurant.

He had expected resistance, coldness, and perhaps a few sharp remarks.

He hadn’t expected her to treat him like an inconvenience whose only redeeming quality was his willingness to pay for an expensive dinner.

For some reason, that irritated him more than an outright confrontation would have.

"Sofia," he said again.

She looked up while chewing.

"What?"

"Could you at least behave like a lady?"

The moment those words left his mouth, Sofia stopped chewing.

A lady.

He wanted her to behave like a lady.

The same man who had threatened her family, forced her into a marriage she never wanted, and violated her boundaries now expected her to sit quietly across from him and perform the role of a perfect fiancée.

Sofia swallowed her food.

Then she smiled.

"Why?"

Lorenzo frowned.

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why should I?"

She placed her fork on her plate and leaned forward slightly.

"You said you wanted to have dinner with your fiancée, didn’t you? Well, here I am. I’m eating the food you paid for. I’m sitting at the table you chose. I’m even listening to you complain."

Her smile widened.

"What more could you possibly want?"

Lorenzo stared at her.

He could have told her to stop being difficult. He could have reminded her of their engagement or ordered her to behave.

But none of those answers would change the fact that she was right about one thing.

She was there, doing exactly what he had asked of her.

Everything else was merely his expectation.

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair.

"...Nothing."

"Wonderful."

Sofia picked up her fork again.

"Then let me eat in peace."

She returned to her meal, looking entirely satisfied with herself.

Lorenzo watched her for several seconds before letting out a quiet sigh.

He knew she hated him. He was trying to change that, but every attempt seemed to remind her of why she despised him in the first place.

’If only I could kill her.’

The thought surfaced bitterly, almost out of habit.

In his previous life, he had killed so many people that he had long since lost count.

But killing Sofia?

Never.

He simply couldn’t do it.