Fall of Snow: A Dark Mafia Romance (Frost Industries Book 3)

I’ve never been much for wallowing. Usually when I feel out of control or my emotions overwhelm me, I find the closest bottle of alcohol and drown my sorrows until I can’t feel the pain anymore. It’s not my healthiest trait admittedly, but it’s always worked for me.

But this time I can’t bring myself to move from my bed. I’ve been here for days, or at least I think I have. The blinds have remained drawn, and my only indication of time passing is when Wynter brings me meals I don’t touch.

I thought I’d hit rock bottom in the past, but surely this is it. Surely there isn’t anywhere lower than where I am right now.

The door creaks open and my sister sighs from the doorway. I think she’s expecting me to snap out of this sooner or later, but if anything, I’m getting deeper into the pit of despair each time she comes in.

Light footsteps grow closer to the bed, and a moment later, the mattress dips beside me. Silence fills the room like she isn’t quite sure what to say to me or how to approach me, but eventually she sighs and says, “You have to snap out of this.”

I ignore her. She may not remember, but when Everett left her, she didn’t get out of bed for two weeks. So I can sympathize with how worried she is right now, but I still have time to wallow before the socially acceptable window closes.

“He’s not leaving you, Snow,” Wynter says softly, her fingers brushing across my cheek gently. “I spoke to Everett, and he swore black and blue this is only about keeping you safe.”

“For now,” I murmur.

She sighs. “Have you spoken to him?”

“No.”

“Has he called?”

“Yes.”

“And why aren’t you answering him?”

I pause for a moment, unsure if I want to admit the reason I’ve allowed so many calls to go to voice mail and haven’t been brave enough to check any of the ones he’s left. “Because if I don’t speak to him, he can’t end things. At least if he just has divorce papers delivered, he won’t see or hear me break.”

Another stretch of silence allows me to burrow farther into my blankets. She doesn’t normally stay long, not after the first day. She tried talking to me, about Elijah, about the baby, about work. She even tried to talk about celebrity gossip because that’s usually my kryptonite. But at some point, I think she decided it was doing me more harm than good.

“Let’s go,” she finally says, standing up from the bed and pushing the blankets from me.

“Go where?”

“To see Elijah.”

“No way.” If I didn’t want him to break up with me over the phone, why the hell would I put myself in a position for him to break my heart in front of him?

“Up, now.” She tugs the blankets back until they’re out of my reach and I’m finally forced to open my eyes. The dim room is too light for me after days on end in the dark, and I quickly slam them shut again. “I mean it, Snow. Get up right this minute, or I will not hesitate to throw a bucket of water on you.”

“I was shot,” I remind her.

“I’ve already called Doc to ask if it would hinder your recovery in any way.”

“You premeditated throwing water on me?” I ask incredulously.

“Yes. Now do as I say, or I will not hesitate to do it.”

I huff and force my stiff body into a sitting position. The only time I’ve been out of bed since I came back to the estate is to use the restroom, and seeing as I’m not eating, and I’m spending most of my days asleep and not drinking water, even that isn’t often. “We can’t leave the house, Wynter.”

“Of course we can.” She looks around the room until she finds what she’s looking for and crosses to the far wall to get whatever it is.

“No, we can’t. We’re on complete lockdown.”

“Because that’s always stopped you?”

“This is different.”

“How is this different?”

“Because I was shot and you’re pregnant. And there are multiple men in this house who will murder us if we step foot out of these grounds without their knowledge.” When did I become the sensible one? Maybe the baby is making my responsible big sister a little reckless, and I’m not sure I like it. I’ve always been the wild child, it’s my right as the youngest child.

“We’re going straight from here to Elijah’s house. We won’t stop along the way. We’ll take one of those ridiculous tank cars Everett designed, and we’ll take a weird route to make sure no one is following us. You’re not going to believe a word I say until you’ve spoken to him, and you’re not going to believe him over the phone. You two need to hash this out face to face.” Wynter returns with a pair of shoes which she immediately kneels in front of me and begins shoving my foot into the white sneakers.

“Should I change?” I ask, looking down at my sweats. I actually got up and showered this morning for the first time since I’ve been back, so at the very least I don’t smell.

“Nope. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

I stare at her. Is she looking at the same picture of me as I am? Because I’m anything but perfect right now.

“Come on, let’s go. Storm went out a little while ago, and Rayne and Everett are in the gym, so we should be able to sneak out.”

I’m all out of excuses and so I force myself to my feet. Wynter wraps a coat around me and before I know it, she’s leading me out the front door and helping me into the car.

“Did you get the car out before you came in to talk to me?”

“Yep.” She grins, walking around to the other side and climbing in beside me. “I had a feeling this was the only way I was getting you out of this funk.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head, but a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips.

My phone vibrates in my hand and I glance down to see Elijah’s name on the caller ID. I should answer it to tell him we’re on our way over. What if he’s out? What if we’re putting ourselves in danger when he’s not even home?

I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and take a deep breath, pressing the answer button as Wynter turns the car toward the gate. “Elijah?” I whisper, afraid my voice will break under my anxiety.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps.

“What?”

“Tell Wynter to stop that car right this second, or I swear to God you will not like the consequences.” The strain in each word makes my stomach tighten. It sounds like he cares, but why would he send me away if that were the case?

“We’re on our way to your house,” I tell him.

“No, you’re not. You’re turning that car around and going back into the nice safe house complete with panic rooms.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Snow. I swear to God, if that car leaves those gates, you’re going to be in a world of trouble.”

My eyes flick to Wynter who shrugs, none of the concerns beating in my chest are visible on her face. I suspect she can hear every word he’s said, and she doesn’t seem concerned by his anger in the slightest. “No.”

“Snow,” he growls.

“I’m coming over, Elijah. We need to talk.”

“We could have talked any of the three hundred times I’ve called you in the last few days, but you keep screening my calls.”

I pause for a moment, my brow knitting together as something occurs to me. “How did you know I was leaving the estate? And how did you know I’ve been screening your calls?”

“I’ve had cameras installed all over the estate for years,” he tells me like it’s the obvious answer to my question. “Now, can you please turn around and we can talk.”

“No, we need to do this in person.”

Silence meets me at the other end of the line and continues for so long I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure the call is still connected.

“What do we need to do in person, Snow?” he asks quietly, barely contained anger eating into the edge of his words. “You’re not leaving me. I told you there isn’t anywhere on this earth you can hide from me, and I fucking meant it. There is no end for you and me.”

My heart jumps into my throat and I meet Wynter’s eyes again, an I-told-you-so look on her face. “You didn’t send me back to the estate to end things?” I whisper.

“No, I sent you there because you’re safer in the iron fortress than you are here. Now please, for the love of God, make Wynter turn that car around and get your asses back within those walls.”

I look up at the road and realize we’re already a few minutes from the estate. Tall trees surround us on both sides, vibrant green visible even as the sun drops to the horizon ahead of us.

“Turn around,” I say softly.

Wynter looks at me for a moment before her eyes flick to the rearview mirror. “Can you put the call on speaker?”

I’m about to ask why when a car in the side mirror catches my attention and I immediately do as she asks.

“Elijah?” Wynter says, her voice even and calm.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s a car following us.”

“Fuck,” Elijah roars, but neither of us flinch.

There’s a scuffle on the other end of the line and a second later, another voice fills the line. “Where are you?” Storm asks, barely contained anger holding on to each word.

“We’re about five minutes from the estate, approximately three miles from the entrance to the highway.”

“Can you tell me about the car that’s following you?”

“Black, unmarked SUV. Dark tint, so I can’t see the driver, but they’ve been on us since we pulled out of the estate. I didn’t think much of it at first, but they’re keeping the exact same distance consistently. Every time I speed up, they do the same thing, and when I slow down, so do they.”

“They’re keeping their distance?”

“I think they’re slowly closing the gap but doing it bit by bit, so I don’t notice.”

“Motherfucker.” A loud crash fills the line, and I flinch at Elijah’s outburst.

“I don’t want you doing anything dangerous, Wyn. You’re pregnant, and evasive driving can be risky.”

“So is being followed by God knows who,” she snaps, the first ding in her perfectly crafted armor showing. Her eyes flick back to the rearview mirror and when the color drains from her cheeks, I chance a look behind me.

“They’re getting really close, Storm,” I say.

“Tommy is nearby. He’s on his way to your location right now. But I need you to both remain calm. It’s unlikely they’re going to make a—”

His words are cut off when the car jolts forward and Wynter and I both scream. “Not so unlikely,” I cry.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“Snow, are you wearing your wedding ring?” Elijah asks.

“Of course.”

“Wynter, your engagement ring?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her eyes flicking between the road and the mirror as the car jolts forward again.

Before he can say anything else, the line goes dead and panic takes hold. Tears gather at the corners of my eyes as I chance another look behind us just in time for the SUV to ram us again.

Wynter lets out a yelp, her hands gripping the steering wheel as tight as she can to keep the car from losing control. “I’m so sorry, Snow. I shouldn’t have made you leave the estate. I should have listened to you.”

I reach out and brush my fingers down her leg as I try to call Elijah again, but the signal is jammed. That’s why they got so close, so they could stop us from calling for help. “It’s okay, Wyn. We’re going to be okay. It’s not your fault. Just focus on breathing and hopefully Tommy will be here soon.”

“I did this. This is my fault.” Tears drip down her cheeks and there’s nothing I can do to bring her comfort. She’s past that point now, and all I can do is hold on to her leg to remind her I’m here.

“I need you to listen to me, Wynter. If we are taken, I want you to do everything you can to get away. I need you and my niece or nephew safe.”

“Niece,” she whispers.

“What?”

“We found out yesterday. Everett was right, we’re having a girl.”

I squeeze my eyes shut to push the tears down. I can’t allow myself to lose my composure, not when Wynter must be so terrified. She has another life to protect, not just her own.

“Congratulations,” I whisper.

“I’m not going to leave you, Snow.”

“Yes, you are. If you get the chance, you’re going to run. I will not allow my niece to become collateral damage in this war.”

Before she can respond, the car jolts forward again, a loud crash radiating through the cab. They’re getting more and more aggressive because we’re coming up on the highway. Once we get on it there’s nothing they can do without witnesses, and something tells me an organization like the one coming for us doesn’t want any of those.

I lean forward and tug the glove box open, thanking every god that may or may not exist when I find a loaded pistol. “How far from the highway are we?”

“One minute.” Wynter glances into the rearview mirror. “Hold on.”

Before I can sit back in my seat, the car jolts forward and pain radiates through my temple the moment it hits the dashboard. Black stars dance in my vision as my head falls to the side and Wynter’s terror-filled eyes meet mine.

Despite her best efforts, she loses control of the car and the sound of screeching rubber is the last thing I hear before the darkness drags me under. I thought I knew what fear was, but the idea that my sister and niece could be harmed has dread eating at me even as I lose consciousness.