The Billionaire’s Pretend Fiancée

Sofie’s POV

I walked closely behind Roman, almost gluing myself to him as we walked into the ginormous expanse of his grandmother’s mansion.

If I had thought Roman’s house to be magnificent, then this mansion was by far grandiose.

Even grandiose couldn’t describe the medieval-themed mansion, it was opulently breathtaking.

“You are welcome home, young master.” A formally dressed middle-aged man greeted us as we crossed the threshold.

Roman handed his coat to the man, “Thanks. Where’s grandma?”

“She’s in her bedroom, sir.” He replied.

The man who later introduced himself as Daniel made to ease my coat off my body and I just held up a hand and shook my head in calm negation.

“You are not feeling hot?” Roman’s voice rang into my ears as he drew back a dining chair for me to sit.

I perched on the chair, “Yes. I’m fine like this.” I said, to which he nodded before he scanned the room, and brushed my forehead with a kiss which made Daniel, and the maids setting the table look away, to give us some privacy.

I reddened like it was the first time all over again that Roman was making body contact with me.

He just had that sort of powerful effect on me that whenever he was with me, I just couldn’t help but act and also feel so needy.

“I’m gonna go get grandma. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He whispered, and I nodded before I felt his warmth leave my back.

I looked down at my thighs as the maids put finishing touches to the sumptuously-arranged variety of dishes.

My stomach growled with immense famish as I gluttonously stared at the silverware that contained chicken lasagna, my favorite food in the world.

So this was the reason why he asked me for my favorite food that day.

“Oh, is that my granddaughter-in-law?” I heard a squeal behind me and I was instantly up on my feet.

I spun around to face Roman’s grandmother who was limping down the stairs with a walking stick in her right hand, and Roman’s hand in the other.

She was a mirror image of Roman. The only difference was that she was smaller, older, and feminine but they both had the same siren grey eyes, and the same pointed nose.

I was sure she’d have been a dazzling beauty with lots of suitors in her younger years.

“Mrs Giovanni.” I greeted her, respectfully clasping my hands together.

“Nonsense, cara. Stop being so formal to me. You can call me Benedicta or Nana or Nana B, anything you want, okay?” She genuinely looked pleased to see me, and that brought tears to my eyes which I quickly blinked away but unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by Roman who just raised a questioning brow at me.

All my life, I had never had a parent figure in my life.

My parents were just pests, and disgraceful excuses of parents and never really cared about me, so to have Roman’s grandmother seem so happy to see me delighted my inner child.

“I want to sit beside her, Romano. You should sit beside her.” Nana declared, to which I smiled and Roman just feigned an exasperated scoff before he took his seat beside me.

I figured I could call her Nana as calling her by her name would sound too disrespectful and also, calling her Nana B sounded too affectionate when I was just a disgusting liar pretending to be her grandson’s fiancée.

Now that I carefully thought about it for the first time, I realized how cheap and low I probably seemed to Roman.

I had spread my legs for him, and had greedily jumped on the offer to collude with him and lie to the poor, old woman.

I was so pathetic.

“You are really gorgeous, mia tesoruccio,” She cooed, reaching for my hand on the table before steering her attention to Roman, “You got lucky with her. Good job.” She said, which made Roman smile with a strange emotion glinting off his grey orbs.

“Forgive my old brain, dear. I should have asked for your name first. What is your name?” She asked.

“Sofie. My name is Sofie Diaz.”Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“Sofie. You are just as pretty as your name.” She giggled which made my cheeks flustered.

“You are flattering me too much, ma.” I said.

“Of course not. I never flatter anyone. I say things exactly the way I see them.” She boasted with a smirk.

Even her smirk was the same as Roman’s.

She continued. “By the way, Roman told me you are still in college. What is your major? What year are you in? Do-”

“Nana, the food will get cold. Allow her to eat first before you continue your interrogation.” Roman interrupted, which earned him an eye roll from the older woman.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t realize I was being too inquisitive. Forgive me, my dear.” She smiled apologetically at me.

I returned her smile, “It’s okay, ma. I’m not offended.”

Afterward, Nana called for her maids to serve us which they promptly did and moments later, a plate of lasagna served with garlic bread and topped with greek salad.

The food was appetizing to my line of smell, and also tasted scrumptious.

As for Roman, he had some baked, stuffed lobster that was garnished with lemon rings, and sprinkled with some vegetables while Nana had a strange white soup.

The sound of cutleries clanking against plates was heard for a couple of minutes as we busied ourselves with the meal.

We soon finished eating, and the maids cleared the table while Nathan brought two bottles of wine to the table, opened them, and poured them into wine goblets for the three of us.

“So, back to my questions. Can you answer them now?” Nana asked as I took a gentle sip of the wine.

“Yes, Nana. I’m in college in my last year of studying clinical nutrition and dietetics.” I replied, half lying, and half saying the truth.

I was truly studying nutrition and dietetics before I dropped out some years ago but I was still in the second year of college.

“That’s awesome. You are a really responsible lady, I’m quite impressed.” Nana said.

I doubt you’d still be impressed with me when you find out the truth, I thought, feigning a smile at her.

“By the way, when can I meet your parents?” She asked, and I almost choked on my drink.

I quickly forced the alcoholic liquid down, and stared at her with various unbridled thoughts assailing my mind.

I could just lie to her that I was an orphan. Frankly speaking, I was as good as one anyway.

But before I could reply, Roman did, “Why do you want to meet them, Nana?”

“We have to start planning your wedding, don’t we? I want you both to get married before the year runs out.” Nana deadpanned, causing Roman and I to exchange startled glances.

Marriage? All of a sudden?

What was going on?

That was definitely not part of the plan.