Page 1 of Broken Mafia Bride
1
GIULIA
Iraise my face to the sky, breathing in the smell of fall. A light breeze trickles through my hair and clothes, the grass beneath my feet swaying. I glance down in surprise and wiggle my bare toes.
Where are my shoes?
The sound of wings beating distracts me, and I find myself staring out over the jagged cliff at the water below. The sea is calm, undisturbed, stretching out over the horizon. I take another deep breath as I watch the sun sink in the distance, painting the sky a faded mixture of pink and orange.
I don’t remember the last time I’ve been so at peace, unburdened by…
I trail off, at a loss.
What have I been burdened by? I can’t remember, but all I know is that this feels unusual for me. A step forward brings me right to the edge. I know I should be afraid, but I’m not.
“Get away from there!” someone yells, startling me.
I whirl around, gaze flying to find where the voice is coming from. It sounds familiar, but I can’t seem to place it. There’s no one around me.
“Who’s there?” I call.
The voice echoes around me, sounding more urgent. “Get out of there right now, G…!” But I don’t hear the remainder of it before it fades into obscurity.
G? Is that me? The voice feels right somehow, like peace, and a sense of calm washes over me with a familiar warmth. I start to step away from the ledge, but the scent of roses and the ocean fills my senses, drawing me back toward it once more.
I spin toward the edge again, gazing out over the horizon. The sun has vanished completely, leaving only darkness in its wake. It’s that fleeting moment between sunset and night when the sky becomes a blank canvas.
“You stupid girl,” someone grits from right behind me.
I start to turn around to see who it is, but I never get to.
“You want to jump so bad? Well, have fun.” I’m suddenly thrust forward. I let out a terrified scream as I lose my balance and tip over the edge. It seems to be happening in slow motion, the air rushing up my face, the still surface of the water getting closer and closer.
Just as I break through the surface, I struggle to stay afloat, and then it hits me: I can’t swim.
I start going under immediately. I thrash and fight, trying to scream for help, but it only makes water fill my mouth and nostrils. The vast body of water that looked so tranquil moments ago seems to have developed tentacles, ones that drag me down without mercy, hungry to swallow me whole.
“Help!” I scream. “Help me!”
But there’s no one.
I scuffle, desperate to break free. My body jerks—and then darkness claims me.
I’m not sure how much time passes before the darkness loosens its hold.
When I wake, the ground is wet, cold, and rough. I feel lifeless.
I can’t move.
Cold mud clings to my face, mixing with damp strands of hair that obscure my vision. Everything is blurry. My eyes flicker open—just for a moment—before the darkness swallows me again.
Weakness drags at every limb, making breathing feel like a struggle. My body shivers uncontrollably, my head pounding as the soaked fabric clings to my skin. A bright ray of light cuts through the haze, forcing my eyes open just long enough to glimpse the crown of a tree.
Where am I?
The sound of water reaches my ears like the gentle splashing of fish. Then, a raven’s hoarse cry pierces the cold air, hollow and foreboding, like the voice of a lost soul.
I am lying on my belly, my neck twisted to an uncomfortable angle, and my arms sprawled limply beside me. The wet strands of hair stuck to my face feel like worms burrowing into my skin.
