the Mafia Bishop: protecting Lydia

The bishop's son

We arrived at the church just in time to see the congregation making their way inside, the sound of hymns and chatter filling the air. As I stepped out of my mom's car, I noticed a young man I had never seen before standing at the entrance, his eyes fixed on me with an intense curiosity. I quickly positioned myself among the choristers, ensuring that I was facing the congregation as we prepared for the performance.

Meanwhile, he took his place in the front row of the congregation, eagerly anticipating the start of the service.

He sat across from me, his intense gaze piercing through me like a hunter targeting its prey. As our eyes locked, I hoped for him to break the stare, but he remained unflinching. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, and I found myself lowering my gaze in a moment of discomfort and shame.

I couldn't help but ponder why he was scrutinising me with such intensity as I gazed at the striking gentleman seated across from me. His cascading golden locks and enigmatic grey eyes held me captive.

“Today is a day filled with joy and reverence” Pastor Jerry said as he addressed the congregation, expressing gratitude for the opportunity to gather together. He spoke of the radiant and hopeful faces of the congregation members. Pastor Jerry then proceeded to introduce the esteemed Bishop, who was met with enthusiastic applause and a standing ovation from the congregation.

The Bishop, adorned in a regal robe embellished with a beautifully embroidered cross, made his way to the pulpit.

Upon reaching the pulpit, he graciously accepted the microphone from Pastor Jerry and, with a sense of solemnity, cleared his throat before addressing the congregation.

"Indeed, today is a day filled with uncontainable joy," the Bishop proclaimed, his eyes shining with excitement. "But before I share the reason for my overwhelming happiness, I would like to invite the choristers to bless us with their soul-stirring ministration," he announced, casting a warm gaze towards the group of choristers. As the choristers gracefully rose from their seats, the lead singer, adorned in a striking robe, stepped forward and took hold of the microphone, her presence commanding the attention of the entire congregation.

Her voice filled the hall with a melodious tone, captivating the congregation and holding them in rapt attention. The air was filled with a profound sense of tranquillity as the congregation listened intently to the beautiful performance.

With each note she sang, a hushed tranquillity descended upon the hall, and the congregation was spellbound by the sheer beauty of her melodious voice.

After the performance, the choristers took their seats, visibly moved by the experience as they reflected on the impact of their ministration. The bishop, acknowledging their heartfelt efforts, stepped forward to address the congregation.

"The ministration by the choristers was a beautiful and touching experience for all of us. I believe we were all genuinely touched and blessed by their heartfelt performance," the bishop expressed warmly.

The congregation responded with an outpouring of joy and excitement, their faces reflecting the emotional resonance of the moment as they exclaimed, "Yes!”

"I am absolutely delighted to announce the reason for my immense joy. Our son, Ryan, who has been absent for an extended period, has returned to us," declared the bishop with unwavering confidence, casting a warm smile at the captivating stranger who had been observing me intently. With a self-assured smirk and a sense of pride, he lifted his head high.

The atmosphere crackled with energy as the congregation erupted into enthusiastic cheers and applause, their support reverberating through the hall.

With a confident air, he meticulously adjusted his clothes, his anticipation palpable in the charged atmosphere.

Casting a glance around the room, he offered a self-assured smile before striding purposefully towards the pulpit, every step echoing with determination. Standing proudly next to his father, the bishop, he was enveloped in a chorus of praise and admiration.

I looked at Ryan and as I laid eyes on him, I was awe-struck by how much he had grown and how handsome he had become.

I couldn't believe how unrecognisable he was. I observed him as he walked with confidence and grace, causing all the ladies in the church to blush and swoon at his captivating smile and charming demeanour.

He turned his eyes away from the congregation and towards me, and we locked eyes once again for the umpteenth time.

I felt an electric charge flow through my spine as he caught me staring at him. Feeling embarrassed, I quickly averted my gaze, pretending not to be staring at him, and looked at the congregation. Hoping that my flustered state had gone unnoticed.

"I can't believe my eyes. Look how grown he is now. Ryan is so handsome! OMG, he is hot," Camille, my best friend who was also a chorister, said in a low but excited tone.

I tilted my head and rolled my eyes, feigning indifference to Ryan's admiring gaze. "What's so handsome about that?" I asked, my tone laced with condescension. Camile turned towards me, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"Are you trying to say that you don't find Ryan's appearance appealing?" she asked, her expression a mix of disbelief and curiosity. I smiled and gave a response to my friend, who seemed utterly astonished, "On the contrary, I personally don't feel that he possesses the qualities that I find attractive.”

"Of course, he is handsome. I know he is handsome as hell, but I couldn't bring myself to admit that he was. I've always felt a sense of competition when we were little, and now that he's back, I'm not going to let him win with his handsome face and sexy body. I'm still very pretty," I said to myself and smiled satisfactorily.

I tried to adjust my robe and walked outside holding the hem of the oversized choir robe they gave me. Getting outside, I saw my mom in a somewhat conversation that looked like an argument with the bishop's wife. I paused for a second, wondering what exactly could be the problem. As I walked towards them, my mom hugged the bishop's wife. I was confused. 'I thought they were in a heated argument.’