The Mafia Boss's Secret Lover (by Z·Nyra) novel Chapter 4

**Broken Skies Heal by George Orwell**
**Chapter 4**

“Wake up.”

A gentle yet insistent shake jolted me from the depths of sleep. I blinked against the dim light filtering through the dusty warehouse windows, and as I did, the small blade I had been meticulously forging clattered to the ground. Gabriel loomed above me, his complexion pale and washed out in the morning glow.

“You slept here?” He looked at the cot I had dragged from storage, the blanket still twisted in the aftermath of my restless night.

“Didn’t have anywhere else to be,” I replied, stretching my stiff limbs, my back protesting with a sharp twinge. The forge had gone cold long before dawn’s first light. “What time is it?”

“Seven. Dominic’s been calling.”

I reached down to retrieve the cooling blade from the floor, my fingers brushing against the metal. “And?”

“And he wants to see the progress on Natalia’s weapon. Today.”

I held up the oilcloth bundle that concealed my creation. “It’s done.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Already? It was supposed to take three weeks.”

“I’m motivated,” I said, running my thumb along the smooth edge, testing the finish. It remained flawless. “Tell him he can pick it up whenever his highness desires.”

“Aria.” His voice lowered, tinged with concern. “Don’t do this. Don’t burn bridges you might need to cross back over.”

“The bridge is already ashes, Gabriel. I’m just dancing on the embers,” I replied, my tone resolute. He didn’t press further; he knew better than to challenge me on this.

As we drove to the estate, I maintained a deliberate distance, like a mourner trailing behind in a funeral procession. The blade rested silently beside me in the passenger seat, wrapped in its oilcloth, an ominous presence. I couldn’t help but wonder if it would whisper betrayal when Natalia finally held it.

Upon my arrival, the house was alive with activity, servants gliding through the halls like ethereal figures on a mission. Gabriel led me to the study—a room I had entered countless times before. It was here that Dominic had sketched business deals onto my skin between meetings, where he had once confided that I was the only person who had ever truly seen him.

Dominic sat behind his desk, his demeanor as commanding as ever, while Natalia perched on the edge of her seat like a delicate bird of prey. She was adorned in white, immaculate and frigid. When her gaze met mine, her smile sharpened, taking on a predatory edge.

“Aria. Gabriel mentioned you finished early,” she purred.

I placed the bundle on the desk, the weight of the moment thick in the air. “Professional courtesy.”

Dominic began to unwrap the oilcloth, and as the blade emerged, it caught the morning light, scattering it like a thousand tiny suns across the room. He froze, his expression shifting into one of awe.

I recognized that look—the same one he had worn when he first beheld my work, when he realized the depths of my craftsmanship.

“This is…” he murmured, tracing the intricate design of the cavallo eagle with a single finger. “Extraordinary.”

“It’s functional,” I replied, my voice steady and devoid of emotion. “The balance is perfect. It won’t fail during the ceremony.”

Natalia leaned in closer, her perfume enveloping me like a heavy cloud. “May I?”

Dominic handed her the blade, hilt-first. She grasped it, testing the weight in her hand, her technique clumsy and unrefined. She held it more like a fashion accessory than a weapon.

“It’s heavier than I expected,” she said, pouting slightly.

“Steel has weight, Miss Volkov,” I stated bluntly, refusing to soften my words. “You wanted a weapon, not a toy.”

Her eyes narrowed, annoyance flickering across her features. “I wanted something beautiful.”

“Beauty and functionality aren’t mutually exclusive. That’s something your husband-to-be used to understand,” I replied, my gaze unwavering.

Dominic’s head snapped up, surprise etched across his face. “Aria.”

“Yes, Mr. Cavallo?” I replied, my tone laced with sarcasm.

The formality of my response landed like a slap, and Natalia glanced between us, sensing the tension that crackled in the air, though she couldn’t quite name it. “Perhaps you could show me how to hold it properly? Dominic says you possess such… intimate knowledge of weaponry.”

The word “intimate” hung between us, sharp and dangerous. “I don’t give lessons.”

“But for family—” she began, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

“I don’t work for the Volkovs.”

“Not yet. But after the wedding, the families merge. You’ll be working for both.” She stepped closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “Unless Dominic decides to terminate your contract entirely. I’d hate to see talent like yours wasted.”

I recognized the trap in her eyes. She wanted to ensnare me, to keep me tethered to her.

“I’ll consider it,” I said, knowing it was a lie.

“Do.” She handed me a sleek black card, the number embossed in gold catching the light. “My private line. For when you realize Dominic’s protection has an expiration date.”

With that, she walked away, the blade resting against her hip like a warning. I stood in the hallway, holding her card between my fingers, feeling the noose tighten from both sides.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Papa: Tomorrow. Midnight. The usual.

In one swift motion, I deleted the message and discarded Natalia’s card into the trash can by the door. I didn’t need new leashes. I needed freedom.

And in three days, I’d have it.

As I stepped outside, Gabriel intercepted me. “Dominic wants to see you. Alone.”

“Tell him I’m busy,” I replied, my tone final.

“Aria—”

“Four days, Gabriel. Four more days of this circus, and then I’m gone.” I could see his face pale with concern. “You’re not planning something stupid, are you?”

“I’m planning something necessary,” I reassured him, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave your boss a nice note.”

I drove back to the warehouse, watching the cityscape slide past my windows. New Orleans had been my home, my prison, my entire world. Soon, it would be nothing but a memory, and memories couldn’t hurt you.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.