Edge of the Ocean

Dominic

The steering wheel of the Maybach vibrated violently under my palms as I took the sharp turn onto the coastal highway, the tires screeching against the wet asphalt.

The rain had turned into a full-scale gale. Waves crashed against the jagged rocks fifty feet below the cliffside road, throwing white foam and heavy spray over the concrete guardrails.

"Where are they?" I roared into the Bluetooth speaker.

"Sir, we picked up Captain Miller’s truck signal three miles past the bay bridge!" Marcus yelled over the roar of wind through his line. "He’s heading toward the old lighthouse road! But there’s an unregistered commercial flatbed tailing him; no license plates!"

"Where is Lila?"

"Her private vehicle left her family’s estate twenty minutes ago," Marcus replied rapidly. "Sir, if she’s using Apex security transport to force that truck off the cliff, she’s trying to kill them!"

"Send every security unit to the north point," I growled, stomping the accelerator flat against the floorboards. "If a single scratch comes to Aria or my child, I will drag Lila to the ocean floor myself."

I cut the call, my chest heaving, tears of pure, blinding adrenaline burning my eyes.

For seven years, I had believed I was a man of cold, unyielding control. I had built a multibillion-dollar fortress around myself, convinced that power, money, and discipline could protect everything I cared about.

Now, racing through the pitch-black coastal night with rain hammering my windshield like shrapnel, I realized how hollow it all was. My wealth couldn't stop that flatbed. My title couldn't soften the impact of two tons of steel slamming into the woman carrying my child.

A mile ahead, a blinding flare of red and white light cut through the dark fog.

I saw Miller’s heavy Ford pickup fishtailing wildly on the narrow two-lane road. Behind it, a dark flatbed truck hit Miller's rear bumper again; a sickening crunch of tearing iron and shattering tail lights echoing above the roar of the ocean.

"No!" I screamed, yanking the Maybach’s wheel to the left, cutting onto the wrong side of the road to bypass the flatbed.

The pickup’s back tires lost traction on the slick, mud-covered asphalt. The truck spun out, slamming sideways into the heavy concrete guardrail overlooking the ocean. The guardrail groaned, cracking open, throwing chunks of wet stone into the abyss below.

Miller’s truck came to a violent halt, its front wheels dangling over the fifty-foot drop to the sharp rocks and churning water below.

The black flatbed ground to a halt thirty yards ahead, blocking both lanes of the narrow road.

I slammed on my brakes, bringing the Maybach to a stop twenty feet behind Miller’s dangling truck. I threw the door open and sprinted through the freezing rain, my tailored suit coat soaking through instantly.

"Aria!" I screamed, dropping to my knees on the muddy pavement near the crumpled passenger side door.

The Ford’s cab was crushed inward, the metal roof caved in near the back window. The engine hissed violently, white steam pouring from under the crumpled hood.

Inside, Hank Miller lay slumped over the steering wheel, his head bleeding profusely onto the air bag.

Beside him, Aria sat gasping for air, her face pale as bone, her hands locked in a desperate, white-knuckled grip around her lower stomach. Her seatbelt had locked, binding her against the bent passenger seat.

"Dominic..." her voice was a tiny, ragged gasp that barely carried over the howling wind.

"I’m here! I’ve got you!" I yelled, grabbing the crumpled metal door handle with both hands and throwing my entire body weight backward.

The iron hinges shrieked, resisting for three agonizing seconds before snapping open.

I reached inside, wrapping my arms around her narrow waist, careful not to press against her chest or stomach. I hit the emergency seatbelt release with my thumb and pulled her gently out of the steaming cab into the rain.

She collapsed against my chest, her small body trembling violently from cold and shock. I dropped to my knees on the wet asphalt, cradling her against my coat, shielding her head from the stinging spray.

"The baby..." she choked out, her fingers twisting into the lapels of my wet jacket. "Dominic... please... the baby..."

"The baby is safe," I whispered fiercely against her wet hair, my own tears mixing with the freezing rain on my cheeks. "I've got you, Aria. I swear to God, I’ve got you."

A heavy set of car doors slammed shut down the road.

I turned my head, my jaw clenching so tight my back teeth creaked.

A sleek black luxury SUV sat parked behind the flatbed, its hazard lights blinking in the fog.

Lila stepped out into the rain. She wore a heavy black wool trench coat, her long hair plastered against her neck. In her right hand, she held a small, silver-plated revolver, her knuckles white, her face twisted into a mask of complete, hysterical madness.

Two heavy-set men in dark rain jackets stepped out behind her, standing like guards at her shoulders.

"Dominic!" Lila screamed above the storm, her voice piercing and sharp as a glass shard. "Step away from her!"

I didn't move. I shifted my body, pulling Aria completely behind me, using my shoulders to shield her from Lila’s line of sight.

"Put the gun down, Lila," I said, standing up slowly, my voice dropping into a deadly, gravelly register that echoed off the damp cliffside walls. "It's over."

"It's not over!" Lila shrieked, taking three quick, frantic steps forward, her boots splashing in the muddy puddles. "It was supposed to be me! I gave you seven years! I saved your life on that frozen lake!"

"You didn't save anyone!" I barked, taking a step toward her, my fists balled at my sides. "Hank Rogers spoke to my legal team before your men ran him off the road! He kept his original dispatch logs, Lila! You were sitting in a heated country club two miles away while Aria pulled me out of six feet of ice!"

Lila froze in her tracks. Her chest heaved, her eyes wide, wild, and bloodshot under the harsh yellow halogen lights.

"He... he lied," Lila whimpered, her hands shaking so violently the gun barrel wobbled in the air. "He's lying to you, Dominic! She paid him!"

"Aria didn't have a dime to pay anyone," I said, stepping closer, my cold eyes locked onto the weapon. "You stole her life. You stole my life. And you used my guilt to leech off my family for seven years."

"I loved you!" Lila screamed, her voice cracking into a sob.

"You loved my money," I corrected her coldly. "And now you're going to spend the rest of your life in a state prison for attempted murder."

Lila stared at me, the realization hitting her like a physical blow. The manic, desperate rage drained from her face, leaving behind a hollow, terrifying blankness.

"If I can't have you," Lila whispered, her voice dropping into a flat, poisonous murmur, "then neither can she."

She raised the revolver, leveling the silver barrel straight at my chest.

Before she could pull the trigger, a pair of bright white high-beams exploded around the curve behind her.

A massive, heavy-duty harbor tow truck slammed through the rear bumper of Lila's SUV, throwing the luxury vehicle sideways across the road with a deafening metal crunch.

Lila shrieked, losing her footing on the slick asphalt as the impact knocked her backward into the mud.