The Mafia Boss's Secret Lover (by Z·Nyra) novel Chapter 6

**Broken Skies Heal by George Orwell**
**Chapter 6**

The Cavallo engagement party unfolded within the opulent confines of the Garden District mansion, a grand estate that had always stood as an impenetrable fortress to me. I lingered just outside the gates, clad in a modest black dress that felt like a shadow among the shimmering gowns of the guests arriving in sleek limousines—gowns that likely cost more than my entire vehicle. This gathering was not just a celebration; it was a declaration: Dominic Cavallo and Natalia Volkov were to be united, not only in the eyes of God but also beneath the watchful gaze of the underworld.

Gabriel had come to deliver my invitation personally, a gesture that felt almost like a cruel joke. “He wants you here,” he had said, his tone serious. “As family.”

But I knew better. I wasn’t family; I was merely the specter they were trying to exorcise from their lives.

As I stepped inside, the ballroom sparkled under a canopy of crystal chandeliers and flickering candlelight. Three hundred faces, all unfamiliar to me, lifted their champagne flutes in a toast to the couple at the center of it all. Dominic stood tall in a tuxedo that seemed to mold to his frame like armor, while Natalia, radiant in her diamond-white gown, appeared as if she had just emerged from the glossy pages of a fashion magazine: *Power Couples of the Criminal Elite*.

I accepted a glass of champagne from a passing server, raising it to my lips and draining it in one swift motion. The burn of the alcohol felt oddly fitting, a sharp reminder of my place in this lavish charade.

“You came.”

Mikhail Volkov appeared at my side, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the marble floor. I recalled our first meeting years ago at another extravagant affair, where he had questioned Dominic about keeping “such a talented artist” hidden away. Dominic had laughed then, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand, claiming that some art was simply not meant for public appreciation.

“I’m an asset,” I replied coolly. “Assets get accounted for.”

He chuckled, a sound that rumbled like distant thunder. “Always with the sharp tongue. My daughter says you finished the blade.”

“It’s currently displayed in the study, I assume under guard.”

“Of course.” His gaze bore into me, eyes that had witnessed the demise of countless men. “You were more than just his weaponsmith, weren’t you?”

The air between us crackled with tension, the question hanging like a live wire. “I was whatever Dominic needed.”

“And now he needs my daughter.” Mikhail took a sip of his champagne, his expression unreadable. “Business is business, my dear. Even hearts come with price tags.”

Across the ballroom, Dominic’s gaze locked onto mine, a flicker of something—perhaps exhaustion—passing over his features. The dark circles beneath his eyes hinted at sleepless nights, a reflection of my own turmoil. Good.

Natalia tapped her glass with a fork, and the room fell silent, anticipation hanging thick in the air. “We have an announcement,” she declared, her voice resonating like a soprano’s aria. “A gesture of unity between our families.”

Dominic stepped forward, but she halted him with a gentle hand on his arm. “Let me handle this.”

Turning to face the crowd, she commanded their attention effortlessly. “As many of you know, Dominic’s family has employed independent contractors over the years—artists, craftsmen, advisors. But as we embark on this new chapter together, we’ve decided to… streamline our associations.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. I felt the weight of the moment; this was the public execution of my career.

“Therefore,” she continued, her gaze sweeping the room, “effective immediately, all previous contracts are dissolved. We are grateful for the years of service, of course, but the future requires new blood. New vision.”

Dominic’s jaw tightened, a muscle twitching as if it could crack steel. This announcement was not his doing; it was hers, and he had not wanted it to be made public.

“Specifically,” Natalia’s eyes found me, piercing through the sea of faces, “we would like to thank Aria Moretti for her decade of exceptional work. Her weapons have served the Cavallo family well.”

Three hundred heads turned in unison, and I stood alone, an island amidst the tide of eyes, the champagne glass in my hand now empty and forgotten.

“We wish her the best in her future endeavors,” Natalia concluded. “Wherever they may lead.”

Polite applause erupted, a sound that felt final, like the closing of a chapter I had not chosen to end.

I set my glass down on a passing tray and made my way toward the exit, my heart pounding with a mix of anger and humiliation. Gabriel intercepted me, his expression twisted with concern. “Aria, I didn’t know she would—”

“It doesn’t matter,” I cut him off, my voice steady despite the storm inside. “It’s done.”

Outside, the Louisiana night enveloped me, thick with humidity and the intoxicating scent of magnolias. I reached the street before the tears came—hot, humiliating, and utterly unstoppable. A decade of my life had been erased in mere seconds. Efficient.

I stared at the dark storefront, disbelief washing over me. “You’re giving me a building.”

“I’m giving you options.” He turned to face me, his expression earnest. “You don’t have to disappear. You could stay. Work independently. Natalia would have to accept it.”

“Natalia wants me gone.”

“Natalia wants what her father tells her to want.”

We sat in the dimly lit car, the dagger between us glinting in the reflected streetlights. I had spent ten years memorizing his features, the way his hands moved, the subtle shifts in his voice when he was lying. But he wasn’t lying now; there was desperation etched across his face.

“Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why does it matter if I stay?”

“Because—” He paused, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Because you’ve always been here. And I don’t know how to run this empire without you in the background.”

Not because he loved me. No, it was because he needed me. How convenient.

I opened the car door, the night air rushing in. “I don’t want the building. I don’t want your options. I want to be free.”

“Aria—”

I stepped out and walked away. Behind me, I heard him utter something, but the words were swallowed by the vibrant music of the Quarter. Tomorrow, Elena Rossi would pack her suitcase. Tomorrow, Aria Moretti would cease to exist.

The engagement party didn’t need me anyway. They had their merger, their perfect future.

I had twelve hours until midnight.