Page 4 of Broken Mafia Prince
“Are you hurt? Talk to me!”
I try to nod, but my head throbs, the pain unbearable. “Mama… Valentina,” I croak.
Papa looks toward the SUV, the man escaping, and back at me. His jaw tightens. His face hardens. “Stay here,” he commands, his voice sharp.
“Papa, no! The car—” I cry out, but he’s already running after the man.
I want to scream after him, to beg him to stay, but the words die in my throat. The truck driver aimed at us once before; he did it again to finish what he started. Papa wouldn’t risk leaving his family unprotected.
As his figure disappears into the trees, I turn back to the SUV, my heart pounding. The car groans ominously as it shifts closer to the cliff’s edge, its movement slow but terrifying.
“Mama…”
Nothing. No movement. No sound.
She looks asleep—too still, too quiet. A terrible knot tightens in my chest, my breath catching.
“Mama!” I scream, my voice cracking, raw with fear.
For a moment, still nothing. Just silence. Just the pounding in my ears.
Then—slowly—her eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused. She blinks at me, as if pulling herself back from somewhere far away.
“Giulia…” she whispers.
Mama’s faint, trembling voice breaks through the noise. She’s still alive, stuck inside. My legs feel all wobbly as I stumble toward the car, my head spinning like everything’s dizzy and far away.
“Hold on, Mama!” I claw at the door handle with my little hands, but the metal is all messed up and won’t open. My hands aren’t strong enough. I can feel my fingers slipping. “Papa!” I scream, but it comes out so small, like the wind’s stealing my words. “Help me!”
He doesn’t answer, and I look back to see him running toward the truck driver, his legs moving fast and angry. The blur of him and the driver makes me feel even more alone.
“Valentina…” My heart hurts when I say her name. Where is she? Did she get thrown out of the car like me? I look all around, my eyes darting like crazy, but all I see are the big waves, crashing and dark.
I search through the wreckage of our toys, backpacks, and shattered glass, my eyes scanning the mess, my heart pounding harder. I shouldn’t have unclasped my seat belt—if I had stayed put, Valentina would, too.
Then I see it.
Beneath the pile, a familiar flash of pink and purple catches my eye. It’s Valentina’s princess pony blanket wrapped around her like a shield.
But… why can’t I see her?
The blanket is tangled, twisted over the back seat like some strange cocoon, hiding everything beneath it. My breath catches in my throat. For a horrible moment, I wonder—Is she under there? Is she trapped? Does she need help?
I reach toward it, my hands shaking, terrified of what I might find.
But I can’t.
Then I see them—her shoes, peeking out from beneath the folds of the blanket.
She’s there. She has to be.
“Where’s Val?” Mama’s voice is so soft, but I can still hear the panic in it through the spiderweb cracks in the window.
Blood streams from her forehead, painting her face in a terrifying red.
“I think she’s under her blanket, Mama.”
“Valentina?”
