The air rushed past my ears in a deafening roar.

Time seemed to fracture, slowing down to an agonizing crawl.

I saw the crystal chandelier zooming past my peripheral vision, its prismatic glass catching the afternoon light.

Above me, the balcony grew smaller.

I could see Maria’s terrified face peering over the edge, her hands clutched over her mouth.

Beside her, Mrs. Gable simply watched my descent with lifeless eyes.

I flailed my arms, desperate for something to hold onto, but there was only empty air.

The intricate geometric pattern of the marble floor rushed up to meet me.

I braced for the shattering impact, squeezing my eyes shut.

I thought of Lily.

I prayed she wouldn't look down.

Suddenly, a blur of motion darted across the floor below.

It was a man in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers, moving with impossible speed.

He planted his feet on the polished marble, sliding slightly before anchoring his weight.

He looked up, his arms outstretched, his dark eyes locked onto my falling form.

It was Marcus.

He had always been my shadow, my protector, the one variable my mother could never fully control.

The impact was bone-jarring.

I hit his arms with the force of a falling anvil.

He grunted loudly as the breath was knocked out of him.

His knees buckled under the tremendous weight and momentum, but he didn't drop me.

He absorbed the shock, staggering backward slightly to distribute the kinetic energy.

We collapsed together onto the cold, hard floor.

My heart was beating so fast it felt like a trapped bird battering against my ribs.

I gasped for air, clutching onto his shirt as if it were a life raft.

Marcus looked down at me, his chest heaving.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice thick with adrenaline and fear.

I shook my head frantically, unable to form words.

I was alive.

I had survived a forty-foot drop because of a split-second calculation by a man who refused to let me die.

I looked up toward the balcony.

Eleanor was gone.

The security guard and Lily were gone.

Only the empty railing remained, a silent testament to the attempted murder.

“She has Lily,” I choked out, tears finally spilling over my cheeks.

Marcus’s jaw tightened.

He carefully lifted me to my feet, his hands gentle but firm.

“Then we get her back,” he said grimly.