Their Four-Person Test, My Unopened Parachute Chapter 01

In Damian Moretti’s circle, I was always the “hothouse flower” everyone loved to tease.

He and his two childhood friends — plus his childhood sweetheart — were forever scheming together to mess with me.

They’d slip rubber snakes into my bag, hide my ID, lock me in a pitch-black warehouse overnight…

Every time I got angry, Damian would look at me with that disappointed expression.

“Avery, we’re only trying to make you stronger. Why do you always take kindness for cruelty?”

This time, their “kindness” carried me twenty-five hundred meters into the sky.

Inside the helicopter, Celeste pointed down at Blackridge Gorge.

“Avery, today’s training is a solo jump. Pull this off, and you’ll come out a whole new person.”

I couldn’t jump. I still hadn’t told Damian that I was carrying his child.

But before I could even react, Damian shoved me out.

“Pass this test, and I’ll propose to you!”

he uncontrolled fall knocked the breath from my lungs.

At the critical moment, I yanked the ripcord with all my strength.

Nothing happened.

The pack hung heavy on my back like a solid stone slab.

In that instant, I couldn’t hear a thing anymore.

So that was it — loving someone could really shatter you into pieces.

…

The moment I hit the ground, I lost consciousness completely.

When I opened my eyes again, I was floating above my own body.

My body lay in the granite ravine of Blackridge Gorge, with nothing to break the fall.

There was no inflatable landing pad on the ground. No professional ground instructor that Damian had promised.

Just scattered gear. And blood.

I looked down at the black pack.

The zipper had burst open. It wasn’t a parachute at all — it was a full weighted training rig.

Twenty kilos, exactly.

It hadn’t even been a malfunction. From the very start, what I’d been carrying on my back was a death weight.

The roar of the helicopter grew closer.

It set down at Apex Noire Mountain Base, and Damian was the first one out.

He wore a crisp black windbreaker, standing tall, his face cold and aloof.

Celeste hung on his arm. Luca and Nico carried action cameras. The four of them chatted and laughed.

“I told you Avery’s attitude needed a serious fix,” Luca said, pulling off his goggles with a sneer. “Some top athlete — scared stiff before she even jumped.”

Nico fiddled with his action camera and snorted, “She’s just spoiled. She’s nothing but decoration — how does she deserve a place in the Moretti family?”

“After this high-altitude desensitization, she should learn some manners. She won’t be giving Celeste attitude anymore.”

“So… should we go look for her?”

Damian glanced at his watch, annoyed.

“She’ll come out on her own once she’s done sulking,” he said calmly, without a shred of worry. “There are guide markers on the trail. It’s just a five-kilometer hike. If she can’t even walk that back, she doesn’t deserve to wear my ring.”

Celeste pressed against his side, covering her mouth with a delicate hand.

“Damian, do you think Avery will really be mad at you?”

“She’s not familiar with the area. What if she gets lost?”

Damian ruffled Celeste’s hair.

“Celeste, you’re too kind. That’s why she’s always got you under her thumb.”

“You’ve been skydiving, racing, and diving since you were a kid — you’re better than her at all of it. If the Romano family hadn’t banned you from dangerous activities, the title of North America’s best extreme athlete would never have gone to her.”

“She’s two years older than you, yet too petty to make room for you.”

“Pushing her off today was meant to grind that arrogance right out of her.”

I floated three meters above their heads, staring coldly at the face I’d loved for five years.

Damian, she was never the one who needed to be strong.

Because the three of you were always at her side, watching over her in every way.

The one who needed to be strong — the one who had no one — was always me.

Celeste leaned into Damian’s arms, a smug smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

Once the three of them were gone, Celeste turned toward the club’s locker area.

She called over Ryan Cole, the ground crew chief.

“Wipe every piece of solo-jump surveillance footage and equipment check record from today. Including the backups.”

Ryan nodded, trembling.

“Understood. I’ll take care of it right away.”

In that moment, I understood everything.

There had never been a malfunction.

There had never been an accident.

This high-altitude punishment had been an execution disguised as “desensitization” from start to finish.