The guardrail gives way with a groan of twisting metal. For one suspended moment, the car balances on the edge of the cliff, teetering between road and oblivion. I catch a glimpse of Konstantin through the shattered window, halfway out of his SUV, his face a mask of something I’ve never seen before.
Fear.
Then gravity wins.
The car tips forward, front wheels finding nothing but air. My stomach lurches as we begin to fall, that horrible weightless feeling of a roller coaster drop without the safety bars. The wounded man beside me screams—a high, animal sound of pure terror.
“No, no, no,” I gasp, bracing myself against the seats as the world spins.
The car hits the rocky slope once, twice, the impact throwing me against the roof, then the door. Metal shrieks as the chassis crumples. Glass explodes inward. My bound hands can’t catch me as I’m thrown around the interior like a ragdoll.
A sudden, violent impact knocks the air from my lungs. The car flips, rolling over itself down the steep embankment. Inthe chaos, I glimpse snatches of sky, ocean, rocky ground—all tumbling together as the world turns inside out. Something warm sprays across my face. Blood. Mine or theirs, I don’t know.
My last thought, as darkness closes in from the edges of my vision, is of Konstantin’s face as we went over the edge.
Not the cold, controlled mafia boss. Not the ruthless businessman. Just a man watching his wife disappear.
I was trying to protect everyone.
I never thought I’d need protection from my own stupid decisions.
Something heavy crashes against my skull, and the world goes black.
48
Bella
The sun hits the water just right, turning it into a sheet of diamonds that hurts my eyes. Dad says that’s how you know you’re looking at something valuable—it makes you squint.
“Higher, Bella!” Julian squeals, his chubby 4-year-old legs kicking at the air as I push his swing.
“Any higher, and you’ll touch the clouds,” I laugh, giving him another push. His curls bounce with each arc, catching sunlight like they’re made of copper pennies.
Mom watches from the blanket spread across the sand, one hand resting on her swollen belly, the other shading her eyes. She’s beautiful in that easy way that makes photographers on the street stop and ask if she’s ever modeled. She never has. Says teaching kindergarten is glamorous enough, thank you very much.
“Don’t break my son, Bella,” she calls, but she’s smiling. She always smiles when she watches us together.
“I’m gonna touch the SKY!” Julian announces with the confidence only toddlers possess.
I push him again, carefully calculating the exact amount of force needed to thrill him without actually endangering my little brother. I’ve gotten good at this balance—at being the fun big sister while keeping him safe. It’s my job.
“Mommy thinks it’s a girl,” I tell Julian as he swings back to me. “You’re getting a sister.”
“No!” Julian kicks his legs harder. “Brother!”
“Sorry, buddy. Mom’s got the magic touch. She knew you were a boy before the doctors did.” I catch the swing on its return, slowing it down. “We need to pick a name. You want to help?”
Julian nods solemnly, his face suddenly serious with the responsibility. I lift him out of the swing and set him on my hip, carrying him back toward Mom. He’s getting too big for this, but I don’t care. He still fits perfectly against my side, like he’s meant to be there.
“We’re naming the baby,” I announce, flopping down on the blanket beside Mom.
She laughs, the sound like wind chimes on a summer evening. “Oh, are we? And what names are we considering?”
Julian presses his hands against Mom’s belly. “Dinosaur.”
“Hmm, interesting choice,” Mom says with mock seriousness. “Dinosaur Marquez. Has a certain prehistoric charm.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “Mom, be serious. We need a good name.”
