Page 2 of Broken Mafia Prince (His to Break #1)

Everything goes dark and blurry. Sounds are muffled, like I’m underwater, everything distorted.

I barely notice the gray jaguar from earlier speeding past, its taillights already fading into nothing.

My body is yanked through the shattered window, tossed like a doll. I scream, heart pounding in my chest, but there’s nothing to grab onto, nothing to slow my fall.

My back slams into the earth with a sickening thud. My body goes rigid, trembles uncontrollably. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.

For a moment, everything is black. I blink, trying to focus, but my vision is still swimming. My head feels like it’s been filled with lead. I touch my face, and when I pull my hand back, it’s sticky, my fingers red.

A sob breaks from my chest as the truth hits. It’s my blood.

Tears blur my vision, but I push them back, forcing myself to stay focused.

“Mama!” I scream, scrambling to my feet, legs unsteady beneath me.

The wreck is all I can focus on. The blue truck, its windshield cracked, parked just beside our SUV. The car teeters on the edge of a cliff, one tire hanging dangerously, threatening to drop into the abyss below.

The truck driver stumbles out of his vehicle, clutching his side.

My heart freezes in my chest, panic clawing at my throat.

Papa stumbles out of the car, unsteady, his movements sluggish. He rises to his feet, his gaze darting between the SUV and the truck driver. Then the man fires his gun at us, but misses, shattering the window. My ears ring from the gunshot.

He raises the gun again, firing a warning shot into the air before turning and limping toward the woods.

“Giulia!” Papa’s voice cuts through the haze. He’s kneeling beside me, his face a mask of fear.

“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?”

Silence.

My chest tightens.

“Why isn’t she answering, Mommy?” My voice trembles, barely a whisper.

She must have lost consciousness. She has to be okay. She has to be.

“Valentina?”

Not a sound.

Just the pounding of my heart. Just the awful, suffocating silence.

The thudding in my head is getting worse, louder. My body feels all shaky and heavy like I’m made of rocks.

“Mama,” I whisper, my voice all wobbly. “Did this happen ’cause I didn’t wear my seatbelt?” I can feel the tears trying to spill out, and they’re falling in my mouth, salty. I sniff and try to stop them, but I can’t.

I don’t even know if I should be crying or if I should be helping.

Mama’s face softens, her voice is still steady, even though I know she’s scared too. “Of course not, darling. This is not your fault.” She takes a deep breath, but then she sounds serious. “But Giulia, you need to go call your father.”

I remember the brave warmth in Mama’s and Papa’s eyes, and even though I’m so little, it feels like they carry stories of battles fought in the shadows—stories I’m just beginning to sense.

The SUV creaks like it’s tired. Then, suddenly, Mama’s voice gets louder, all frantic. “Giulia, listen to me. The car—it’s moving!”

My heart pounds as I see the car shift, its back tire dragging closer to the cliff’s edge. Mama’s face is pale, her eyes wide with fear.

“You need to go find your father. Quick! You have to hurry—run as fast as you can!”

“ I-I don’t know where he is!” I cry, panic rising in my chest. “Come out of the car, and we’ll go find him together.”

She shakes her head, her voice trembling. “I can’t.”

“It’s easy, just?—”

“No!” she cuts me off, her voice cracking. “Giulia, listen. I’m stuck, and only he can help me.” Her expression hardens, desperation laced with resolve. “You’re always saying you’re not a baby. This is your chance to prove it.”

I nod, stumbling away from the car, searching for my father. But he’s nowhere. Frustration claws at me, and the tears fall faster. I turn, running back to the car, trembling.

“I couldn’t find him!” I sob. “I’m sorry, Mama. I know I’m not a baby, but I’m scared. Why won’t you just get out of the car?”

All she has to do is undo her seatbelt, step out, and we’ll call 9-1-1. We’ll go home. The cops will find Papa. I’ll never not wear my seatbelt again.

The thought spikes through me, and I reach for the door.

“No!” she roars, but I ignore her, wrenching the door open. The car creaks, and I hear rocks tumble from the edge of the cliff.

I glance over, my stomach twisting. We’re right on the edge.

I’ve never liked heights. Just yesterday, Papa and Val leapt off a high rock into the fountain, while I stayed back, safely catching frogs.

It’s one of the many ways Val and I are different. If she were in my place, she’d be at the edge—leaning over, eyes wide with curiosity, fearless.

Mama’s eyes turn glassy. “You have to stop. You have to get help.”

I shake my head, panic rising. I can’t leave her. “I can help. Let me help you.”

She hesitates. “Fine. But you have to be careful. You have to do exactly what I say, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree immediately.

“There’s a switchblade in my pocket. The seatbelt is mangled from the crash. You need to cut me out.”

Nodding, I move to reach into her pocket. That’s when I notice the shards of the windshield digging into her arms, blood dripping down.

“Don’t worry about my arm,” she says, voice strained. “Just cut me out.”

My hands tremble as I grab the switchblade, trying to cut through the thick strap. The dull blade barely makes a mark.

“It’s not working,” I say, my voice breaking. “Why isn’t it working?!”

The car groans again, and I hear the horrifying screech of metal. The car shifts, sliding backward. Mama screams, her eyes wide with terror.

When she looks at me again, there’s no fear, only sadness.

“You need to leave,” she insists. “You can’t save?—”

A gunshot rings through the air, cutting her off.

I spin around, heart pounding. Papa stands a distance away, gun in hand, a man on the ground. The man drops to his knees and then falls backward down the cliff.

“Papa!” I scream, running toward him. “You have to help! She’s stuck, and the car—it’s falling! There’s blood everywhere, I’m scared!”

Papa’s long legs cover the distance in seconds. He scoops me up into his arms, and I bury myself in him, a little bit comforted by his familiar scent.

“Where’s Val?” He drops me to the ground by the car, then kneels, drawing a wicked-looking blade from his boot.

“She is under her blanket, asleep,” I whisper, my throat tight. I want so badly to hear her voice now. I promise, I’m never going to tease her again.

Papa’s too busy trying to slice through the seatbelt. Mama murmurs a prayer, her face wet with tears.

The car groans again, rocks crumbling from the edge.

“Faster, amore mio .” Mama’s voice shakes, soft and full of fear.

Papa pulls at the seatbelt, his muscles straining. He’s almost through when the car shifts again, creaking like it’s about to break.

“You need to save Valentina—quickly. Get her out of the car. Now!” Mama screams at him.

“I’ll get you both out!” But his voice doesn’t sound sure. “I’ll?—”

There’s a terrible groan, and then a sickening crack splits the air. The car slides down the incline.

Time slows down. The SUV shakes, and the cliff’s edge gives way.

“No!” I whisper, stretching my hand toward the car, but it’s too far away. “No, no, no!”

“Giulia.” Mama’s voice is soft, like a lullaby. “I love you.”

Then the car tips, its black wheels losing their grip. Time freezes as it screeches against the rocks and falls off the cliff.

Papa grabs me, pulling us away from the edge just as the SUV plunges down. I try to push him away, crawling toward the cliff. I scream, my throat burning, but my voice is swallowed by the sound of waves crashing below.

Papa drops to his knees, his hands pressed to his face.

All my fear of heights fades away, swallowed by the horror of watching Mama and Val fall, Mama’s scream echoing in my ears.

My world breaks apart. Tears blur my sight, and the wind howls, carrying a song I’ll never hear again.