The Broken & Reborn Mafia Matriarch Chapter 06

The Broken & Reborn Mafia Matriarch Chapter 06

Meanwhile, halfway across the world in Paris. 

I’d signed with the most prestigious modeling 

agency in the world. 

Show after show, I walked the runways. And every 

time, I nailed it. 

It was more than I’d ever dared to dream. 

After the fire, I’d hidden myself away, convinced my scars made me hideous, unworthy of being 

seen. 

But I’d never forgotten what it felt like to shine 

under the lights. That was where I belonged. 

My assistant Lila,ran up to me backstage, 

screaming. 

“Mia! That was insane! The crowd went wild! Who 

even remembers that shy girl who used to freeze 

up on her first casting?” 

“The designers are obsessed with you! They want 

you for their next three campaigns!” 

I nodded, hands trembling slightly. There was 

something I’d been wanting to ask since I signed. 

“They don’t mind… the scars?” 

Lila stared at me like I’d grown two heads. 

“What? Are you kidding? Your scars are what make you iconic! They’re like butterflies. They tell a 

story, they give the clothes meaning. Perfection is boring, Mia.” 

“You’re one of a kind. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel otherwise.” 

“Oh, and I signed you up for the Elite Model Competition in two weeks. You’re gonna blow 

everyone away.” 

Tears pricked my eyes. 

I’d thought my scars meant I’d never be on a stage again. But the stage had welcomed me back. It had seen me, all of me, and loved me anyway. 

Paris had welcomed me too. 

No one looked at me with pity. No one saw me as 

a broken charity case. They saw a strong, talented 

woman who’d survived hell and come back 

stronger. 

“Mia, you’re incredible.” 

“You have such a unique presence. We’re so lucky 

to have you.” 

I trained for hours every day, practicing every step 

and every turn until they were perfect. 

When I stepped onto the runway for the 

competition, the lights hit me, and the crowd 

gasped. 

I knew in that moment–I’d won. 

After the show, I was walking back to my dressing room when a hand clamped hard around my wrist. 

I spun around. 

It was Eric. 

He looked terrible–gaunt, unshaven, dark circles under his eyes. But when he saw me, his whole face lit up like I was a miracle. 

I hadn’t thought about him in weeks. My life was 

too full, too bright, for him anymore. 

I felt nothing. 

“Mia. It’s really you. I finally found you!” 

“I saw your poster outside. I almost didn’t 

recognize you. You’re… you’re beautiful.” 

“Your videos went viral on Twitter. Everyone was 

saying you’re the next big supermodel. Do your 

have any idea how proud I am of you?” 

I pulled my wrist free, my voice cold and flat. 

“Why would I care what you think? I filed for 

divorce three weeks ago. It’ll be final soon.” 

Eric’s eyes turned red. 

“Like hell it will! You’re my wife! You’ll always be 

my wife, and nothing will change that! I’ll never 

sign those papers!” 

I snapped. I drew back and slapped him as hard 

as I could. 

The sharp crack echoed down the hallway. 

“Are you still acting, Eric? Is this another 

performance?” 

“I’m done. I’m done with your lies, I’m done with 

your fake love, I’m done with being Zoe’s 

replacement.” 

“I’m not that broken, desperate girl who clung to 

you like you were her only salvation anymore. So 

what is this? What do you want from me now?” 

Tears poured down his face. He rummaged 

frantically in his bag and pulled out the finished 

sweater. 

“Look, Mia. You left this. I finished it. I learned how 

to knit, just so I could finish what you started.” 

He held it out to me, his hands shaking. For a 

second, he looked like the man I’d once thought 

was my savior. 

I took the sweater from him. 

Hope bloomed on his face. 

Then I turned and dropped it straight into the 

nearest trash can. 

“Both you and this sweater disgust me. Get that 

through your head.”