The Scholar and the Mafia Princess

The Price of Leaving

Aveline stared at me in disbelief before letting out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You? Study abroad? Your dad's broke, your mom's crazy. Where would you even get the money? Are you dreaming?"

"I'm not dreaming," I said evenly. "You and Caspian are getting engaged soon. My twelve years of standing in your shadow are finally over. I don't need the Sage Group to pay for my tuition. I can earn my own way. And you don't get to question my future anymore."

A flicker of panic crossed Aveline's usually cold eyes. She jabbed a finger at my mom, her voice sharp and venomous. "Even if you manage to work your way through college abroad, what about your mom? Who's going to take care of her? Are you planning to throw her into some institution and leave her to rot? From what I know, your dad wouldn't lift a finger."

"That's none of your business," I replied coldly.

She stepped right up to me, her slender fingers gripping my chin. Her beautiful eyes were sharp and cold, like a snake ready to strike. "You really think that in Crownridge, you can just walk away? You think you can slip out of my grasp?

"A few days from now, Caspian and I are hosting a banquet to celebrate our upcoming college life. You will be there."

Before I could respond, my mother screamed again.

She had gathered every piece of that broken doll from the floor and shoved the bundle into my arms. "Miles, my good boy, your sister's hurting. Save her, please!"

My throat burned as tears blurred my vision. I took the scraps from her trembling hands. "Mom, Lyra's sick. I'll go find a doctor for her."

Then, I turned on Aveline, glaring at her with every ounce of fury I had left. "I've already called for a nurse. This room has cameras. Don't you dare touch my mom again."

I had never raised my voice at her before. For once, she looked startled. She bit her lip, the smallest trace of hurt passing through her expression before she looked away.

I borrowed a needle and thread from the nurse and sat in the waiting room, stitching the doll back together, one clumsy stitch at a time.

…

When I finally carried it toward my mother's room and pushed the door open, my heart nearly stopped.

Aveline and Caspian were tangled together on the attendant's bed, lost in each other, violating every line that should never have been crossed.

And my mother was perched on the balcony rail of the third floor, her body swaying, ready to fall.

Those two were too lost in their pleasure to notice the woman about to die right behind them.

I wanted to run to her, to pull her down, but I was terrified that the sudden movement might startle her into jumping. I froze in the doorway, hardly daring to breathe.

Then, as Aveline and Caspian reached their peak, their cries filled the room, just loud enough to shatter the last fragile thread of my mother's sanity.

The truth was, her madness hadn't started when Lyra died. It had started long before, when my father cheated.

I had been a child then, not even in elementary school, when he brought a prostitute home and did everything in front of my mother, just like what I was seeing now.

My mother's eyes went crimson. She screamed, "Ronan! I hate you!"

And then she jumped.

It happened so fast I couldn't even scream. It felt like someone had ripped my heart out while I was still alive.

My hands shook violently as I dialed 911 and called for the hospital staff, shouting until my voice broke.

Aveline and Caspian were frozen, pale and trembling, fumbling with their clothes as nurses and orderlies rushed in and out.

I ran downstairs and saw that my mom was still breathing. I dropped to my knees beside her, sobbing. "Mom, please! Hang on! Don't go! I can't live without you!"

The ambulance arrived. They lifted her onto the stretcher and carried her away. I collapsed on the cold floor, gasping for air.

Then, I saw a pair of designer heels stop right in front of me—Aveline's.

"A fall from the third floor won't kill anyone," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Quit the act. I saw her breathing just now."

Something in me snapped. I looked up at her, my voice breaking into a roar. "Get lost! I never want to see you again!"

For a moment, her face twisted with anger, but she quickly masked it with that practiced, cruel poise. Looping her arm through Caspian's, she glanced back at me and said coldly, "You'll pay for this, Miles. One day, you'll crawl to me and beg for forgiveness."