The Boss Wants Me Back

In a tone softened by controlled authority, Darian reached out through our secure channel first. Liora, Selara struggles to manage her affairs alone. She has no family here. In this territory, I am her only ally.

His words cut sharper than he intended. He seemed to forget that, in truth, I too had only him ever since we swore our loyalty before the Don and the family council.

“I understand,” I replied quietly through the link. “She’s endured a great deal.”

Liora, what do you mean by that? Why do you sound so—

“I said I understand,” I repeated, my tone stripped of warmth, edged with steel. “Is that not sufficient?”

Must you answer me so sharply?

“Then what would you have me say?” I asked, frustration threading my words like a fine blade.

For a long moment, the channel went silent. The absence of his voice felt heavy, like tension hanging over a meeting before a deal gone wrong. At last, he muttered, Do as you please, before severing the connection.

How ironic. Once, when I asked why he visited Selara’s quarters in the eastern district, he called me meddlesome. When I pressed to know when he would return from her side, he accused me of clinging too tightly. And now, even my attempt to understand him drew his ire.

With a quiet exhale, I set the documents aside. Worrying would not repair the growing divide between us. There were still ledgers to balance and reports to finalize before the Don’s inspection.

When the night watch concluded, I remained behind, sweeping the hall and extinguishing the lamps. Returning to Darian’s quarters felt unnecessary, almost burdensome.

By the time I arrived at my own suite, Darian had already departed for his duties with the enforcers. I washed with water from the basin and lay upon the divan, hoping for rest. Yet just as sleep began to claim me, the sharp chime of the signal bell at my desk cut the quiet. Darian’s message had found me.

Liora, he pressed, the tension in his thoughts unmistakable, my… my head aches.

I murmured a brief reply, though fatigue weighed heavily on me. Before I could rise, sleep dragged me under again. In my dreams, I thought I heard him calling my name through the city streets, but the sound dissolved like smoke in the night, and I let it fade.

Later, the door creaked open. I awoke to find Darian standing near the divan, his expression taut with frustration and exhaustion.

“Liora, why have you grown so distant? When I was ill before, you would rush to my side with remedies, remain through the night until I recovered. You would never leave my chamber until the pain eased.”

Those memories were burned into me. Once, when he suffered a severe stomach infection, I requested leave from the physician and brought remedies to his training grounds. Rain fell without mercy along the route, soaking my coat and hair, leaving me unkempt and mocked by his men. Darian had not silenced them. Later, he told me never to appear before his enforcers like that again, claiming I had embarrassed him.

“Are you feeling better now?” I asked, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “Our supply of remedies may be low. You can collect more from the physician at first light.”

For a heartbeat, he stared at me, silence hanging heavy between us. Then anger flared, hot and sudden. Gripping my arm, he demanded, Liora, how long will you persist in quarreling over Selara? I swear on the family name, there is nothing between us!

I met his gaze calmly. “Very well.”

My composed response only fueled his fury. With a harsh movement, he stormed from the room, the door slamming against the frame with authority.

When the echo faded, an unfamiliar peace settled over the suite. The silence felt lighter, freer, than his presence had ever been.