Page 13 of Blood Heir

He doesn’t answer. He only looks away, clearly not enjoying the situation. His discomfort is too good.

I grab the night robe off the hook and slide it over my shoulders, tying it loosely.

“Why bother?” I scoff, looking him over. “Aren’t you busy hanging out with that girl?”

He shifts, his expression faltering slightly. “She is Emilia.”

I let out a little snort at my own words, watching him try to control his response.

“Don’t I have a phone?” I add, glancing around. “I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to have one, right?”

There’s a long pause. Serevin doesn’t even flinch.

I soften my tone, the edge in my voice suddenly quieter, almost vulnerable. “Are you really in the Mafia? Am I part of the Mafia too? I…I can’t recall anything. If we’re married, why don’t we share a room? Why aren’t there wedding pictures of us?”

Serevin doesn’t respond. His gaze shifts, avoiding mine. “I think I’ll show you around tomorrow.”

I roll my eyes, hands on my hips. “Whatever floats your boat,” I say with a smirk. “I’m off to take a bath, though—unless you want to join, hubby.”

I watch his eyes tighten as he turns toward the vanity. He sets the wedding ring down on the counter, the one I threw away at the hospital, and walks toward the door.

He doesn’t say a word. Not a single word.

The door clicks shut behind him.

I pout, staring at the door. “He’s no fun.”

I walk to the bathtub.

The water hisses as I adjust the temperature, my fingers trailing through the stream. The scent of bath oils fills the room—lavender and something else, something calming. I slide into the tub slowly, feeling the warm water swallow me whole. It’s almost too comfortable.

I settle back against the edge, letting the water rise over my body. The warmth seeps into me, and I close my eyes for a second, trying to forget that I’m still a stranger to myself. Trying to ignore the confusion, the sickness that swirls inside me.

I don’t even know who I am.

My mind runs faster than I want it to. Thoughts tumble over each other, too loud.

Why was I in the hospital?

What happened to me?

Do I have friends? Why don’t I have a phone?

My hands wander over the surface of the water, fingers trailing in the ripples. What if Serevin is lying to me? What if he’s not telling me everything?

The thoughts come fast, and my stomach turns in knots. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep wondering.

I shake my head and laugh at myself, trying to quiet the noise in my head. “Whatever. You don’t even know your own name,” I whisper.

I sink deeper into the water, my head resting against the side of the tub. Relax. Just relax. I let the steam settle in my lungs, closing my eyes again.

The soft warmth lulls me into a sense of comfort. The coziness of it all wraps around me, like I’m being swaddled in someone else’s life.

^^^^

I follow Serevin around the house with a mixture of boredom and disbelief. He points to rooms, explaining their function, their history, like I’m supposed to be impressed. I try to pay attention, but I can’t stop yawning every few seconds. I’m too tired, and quite frankly, I couldn’t care less about what each wing of this mansion is called. It all looks the same—too pristine, too perfect. I might as well be in a museum with no exit.

I drag my feet slightly as we make our way toward the kitchen. Finally, something that smells good.

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