Page 50 of Blood Heir

Suddenly, his phone beeps from the nightstand. He picks it up, reading the message with narrowed eyes.

And then his head snaps up. His tone shifts.

“You didn’t tell me Fee was back.”

My whole body stiffens. My stomach knots.

“She isn’t,” I say quickly, my voice pitched too high. “She’s still at the hospital.”

Lie. A stupid lie. But it’s the one Serevin drilled into me from the start. No one could know yet. No one.

He laughs once, a sharp exhale through his nose as he stands, stretching his tall frame, muscles pulling under his pale skin. He casually pulls on his black trunks, never taking his eyes off me.

“Gustavo has her in his car,” he says. “Driving her here right now.”

“What?” My throat goes dry. My heart stammers.

He steps closer, the smirk on his lips curling like smoke. “Are you covering for your sweet cousin now? The same one you hate? The one you’re furious about, who’s back, taking your place with Serevin?”

“Monte, you don’t know what you’re saying,” I stammer, taking a shaky step back. “Serevin isn’t going to like this—”

Suddenly, his hand shoots out and clamps hard around my neck. My breath catches instantly, his fingers digging into my skin.

“You think I’m scared of Serevin?” he hisses, his voice turning venomous. “I’m Montenegro. The underboss of South Melbourne belongs to me.”

I claw weakly at his arm, gasping. “Monte—I can’t…breathe—”

He releases me with a rough shove, and I stumble back, crashing onto the floor. My knees scrape the marble as I land,one hand flying to my neck. Coughing, sputtering, I try to steady my breaths, the panic rising fast.

My pulse races. But it’s not just from his hands.

How did Fioretta even meet Gustavo? He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near her. She doesn’t even remember him—how could she? Unless—Serevin must have taken her to meet Vittoria. Shit!

“Don’t tell me you’re worried for her now?” Monte’s voice slices through my panic as he buttons his shirt, his tone light, amused. “You used to be in on it.”

I stumble back against the dresser, my breath catching. My throat still burns where his fingers were. My hands tremble as I glare at him, but my voice comes out thin, desperate.

“She just got out of the hospital, Monte.” My words trip over themselves. “This isn’t a good idea. She’ll tell Serevin everything later, and I’ll be fucked—”

Monte laughs, smooth and sharp, like he’s amused by how small I sound. “No, she won’t.”

He strolls over to the nightstand, casual, whistling under his breath as if we’re discussing the weather. With a flick of his wrist, he grabs a small bottle, rattling the pills inside as he holds it up like a prize.

“A bit of this,” he grins, “and she won’t recall a thing.” His eyes narrow. “And you won’t say a thing either.”

I feel my stomach turn.

Then his phone beeps again. Monte steps toward it, still whistling, and reads the message on the screen. His grin widens.

“They’re here.”

I freeze as his words settle in the air like poison.

No, no, no—this is happening too fast.

My legs move before my head can catch up. I lurch forward, grabbing his arm. My voice cracks as I tug at him. “Monte, listen to me. This—this was fun when we were younger, it was a game, but it’s not cool anymore. Please.”

He yanks his arm free like I’m nothing. I stumble, my heels slipping slightly on the polished marble. His face hardens into that familiar, cruel calm.

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