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It was one of the only times in our lives, we shook hands without fighting in the next few minutes. His hand had been comforting, warm, not too soft, and when we finally broke free, he stared down at it like something precious had just happened.
I shook the memory away, I’d always liked it here on the cliffs, it was a great spot to think but also it was away from the noise and all the chaos. It overlooked a ravine off of my dad’s property and felt private, despite the fact that I knew nothing was private in my life, I wouldn’t put it past him to have straight up satellite footage of the wildlife area.
In fact, I’d be more shocked if he didn’t.
I took a deep breath and refused to think about the old Ivan; it was like every single time I saw a shred of decency in him or even part of the person I used to know, he would do something horrible or stupid or cruel.
Until an hour ago, I was stupidly holding out hope.
Until an hour ago I had the errant thought… what if? What if we could be more? What if I could make this work? What if by asking me to trust him he meant for me to wait for him too? For all of this to die down?
And then hope blossomed more with the way he interacted with my family, with what my mom said, only to come crashing down in a fiery storm when I walked in on him and heard those words.
I mean, I was used to it, used to his hate, but it was embarrassing and hurtful, it wasn’t just the way he said it; it was that it was in front of Ash and King.
I felt weak. Stupid. Vulnerable. Unnecessary.
And for a weak moment I thought—what if I just flew?
What if I just flew away?
Would it really matter in the grand scheme of things? He only needed me for my name, for an alliance, the other Families were too focused on keeping the peace, and I was just… a pawn.
Not something I planned on becoming when I was a little girl. I wanted to be powerful; I wanted to be like my sister, and now I just felt invisible, pulled into a war I never wanted to be a part of, and handed over to someone who would rather run me over, apparently with my own car, than hold me close.
I hugged my knees to my chest and stared out over the cliffs.
Dad would cry.
Mom would be devastated.
But this was the mafia.
What was one more death? I wasn’t a boss. I wasn’t anything.
The more I thought about it, the darker I felt, like my soul was finally coming to the same conclusion my head was, and both finally added up to the truth.
The world didn’t need me in it.
The wind picked up around me, I stood, my heels crunching against the rocks and dirt, and I looked over.
“Long fall from here,” a rough voice said.
I froze. I didn’t recognize that voice.
It was gravelly, like the person speaking had something wrong with them. I didn’t turn around, turning around meant I’d probably get pushed, well either way, I was probably getting pushed if this person meant any sort of harm.
“Yeah.” I stepped to the right, closer to the tree that was planted on the edge of the cliff. “It is, but it’s pretty.”
“Lots of pretty things are dangerous,” the voice said.
Finally, I looked over my shoulder.
They were wearing all black and had sunglasses on, a thick black scarf wrapped around their neck and a black brimmed hat that cast a shadow over their features.
They were around average height, a bit taller than me, and wearing black gloves. Never a good sign. Though the person had no weapon, then again, another bad sign, it meant they didn’t want any evidence.
Thus, the need for an accident.
