Chapter 10 - The Edge of the Mediterranean
The wind howled off the precipice, whipping through Julian’s open door. The drop-off was sheer, plunging straight into the frothing, churning turquoise waves crashing violently against the black rocks below.
Julian’s hands gripped the leather seat like vice clamps. ""Beatrice... please. You can’t do this. There are cameras on this road. People saw me get into this car!""
Lady Beatrice did not turn her head. Her gloved fingers remained perfectly still over the gold head of her cane.
""In this region, Julian, my family laid the cobblestones before your country had a constitution,"" she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper yet cutting cleanly through the roaring wind. ""No one saw you enter this car. Just as no one will hear you hit the water.""
The driver, a burly man with scarred knuckles and dead eyes, grabbed Julian by the collar of his linen shirt and dragged him violently out of the limousine. Julian scrambled, kicking and flailing, but the driver’s grip was like iron.
""Wait! Wait!"" Julian shrieked, his polished facade collapsing into pathetic sniveling. ""The ledger! There’s another copy! Elena didn't get all of it!""
The driver paused, his boots inches from the crumbling gravel edge of the cliff.
Inside the car, Lady Beatrice raised a single finger.
The driver halted, pinning Julian to the edge by his throat. Julian dangled precariously over the abyss, small stones dislodging beneath his heels and tumbling into the void. The wind tore at his clothes, the spray of salt water stinging his eyes.
Beatrice slowly turned her head toward the open door. ""What did you say?""
Julian gasped for air, his fingers clawing at the driver’s forearm. ""Elena took the silver flash drive from the boat, but that was a decoy! The master backup... the real transactions linking your family’s offshore trusts to the European election bribes... it’s on a cold storage server in Zurich!""
He lied. It was a desperate, fabricated gamble, a ghost story spun from fragments of corporate rumors he had overheard years ago. But it was his only currency left.
Beatrice stared at him in silence for five agonizing seconds. The wind whipped her silver hair against her cheek.
""Bring him back,"" she ordered softly.
May you like
The driver hauled Julian away from the ledge and threw him unceremoniously onto the gravel shoulder. Julian lay there on his hands and knees, choking and retching, his face coated in dust and tears.
Beatrice looked down at him through the open door. ""You will take us to Zurich, Julian. And if you have lied to me to buy an extra hour of life... I will ensure that falling off this cliff would have been the kindest mercy you ever received.""
