Page 47 of Blood Heir

“You didn’t ask for my name,” he says flatly.

A chill slides down my spine, slow and unwelcome. The weight of his words sticks like sap.

I turn my head to face him, my voice careful. “You…introduced yourself.”

He doesn’t smile. His mouth stays flat for a beat too long.

Then suddenly he chuckles, shaking his head like it’s all one big joke.

“I’m kidding, Fee.” His voice is warm again, almost playful. “You’re always so serious.”

I laugh weakly, my voice thin and brittle. My fingers tighten slightly against my lap.

Something’s wrong.

Something is very, very wrong.

He keeps driving, the city falling further behind. I shift in my seat, trying to calm the building tension crawling under my skin.

Then he speaks again, softer this time. “Gustavo. That’s my name.”

“Oh,” I murmur, keeping my tone as steady as I can.

The car grows quiet.

My pulse pounds in my ears.

I stay stiff for the rest of the ride, every breath shallow, every turn of the wheel pulling me farther from safety.

Minutes pass before we pull up to a massive mansion, its towering white pillars casting long shadows in the dimming light.

The heavy gate closes behind us as Gustavo parks inside the compound.

He cuts the engine sharply.

His voice drops, harder now. “Get down.”

I freeze. The tone is different—sharp, almost commanding.

I glance at him, heart squeezing tight. “Is it me…or are you being hostile?”

He doesn’t answer. His fingers tap once, twice against the steering wheel, his eyes staring forward like stone.

The shift in the air is no longer subtle.

Something isn’t right.

Gustavo chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. It’s dry. Cold.

“Fucking cunt,” he mutters under his breath.

The click of his door handle snaps like a trigger in my chest. He swings the door open with a jerk, the frame shaking slightly under the force. I barely get a chance to react before he’s on my side, yanking my door wide.

“Hey!” I shout, jerking back.

His hand clamps around my arm like steel.

“Let me go, you psycho!” I scream, kicking at him, slapping at his hand, my heart pounding in that same terrifying rhythm my body seems to know all too well.

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