The Billionaire Heir Nobody Saw Coming

5. Trust No Blood 2

The sound behind them was subtle at first, like a pebble dropped in water, yet it sliced through the silence like a blade. The guard wheeled around, pistol raised. “Show yourself!”

Only darkness stretched behind them. The emergency lights pulsed red, heartbeat-quick. Jacob whispered, “Footsteps?”

“Too light,” the guard said. “Someone’s ghosting us.”

The hooded figure at the gate chuckled, voice still distorted. “You hear them, heir? Your blood hunts you faster than we ever could.”

Jacob tightened his grip on the pistol. “Enough riddles. Who are you?”

“Names are currency,” the first figure replied. “Spend yours first.”

Jacob stepped closer to the gate. “You already know mine.”

“True,” the second said softly. “But do you know theirs?”

The guard edged forward, scanning every shadow. “They’re stalling.”

Jacob’s eyes flicked to the titanium case in his jacket. The “key” seemed to weigh more with every breath.

The first figure lifted a small device, a sleek obsidian disc that caught the moonlight. “One touch,” the figure warned, “and every lock in this villa opens. Panic room. Vault. Even the one holding dear Victor.”

Jacob’s stomach knotted. “You won’t get that chance.”

“Won’t we?” the figure murmured.

A sudden clang echoed from the tunnel behind them, metal on metal. The guard spun again. From the dark, a familiar voice called out, low and measured. “Jacob.”

Jacob froze. “Mother?”

She stepped into the red glow as if drawn by the lights themselves. Tall, poised, her platinum hair immaculate despite the damp air. Victoria Smith, Victor’s eldest child, Jacob’s mother, wore a black trench coat and a faint, knowing smile. The guard stiffened. “Ma’am? How did you, ”

“Lower the weapon,” she said calmly. “You’ll need your hands free.”

Jacob’s pulse hammered. “What are you doing down here?”

“Saving you,” she replied.

The hooded figures remained silent, watching. Victoria’s gaze flicked to the gate, then to the case in Jacob’s jacket. “They want what you carry. Hand it to me.”

Jacob’s breath caught. “You knew about the key?”

Her smile deepened just enough to chill the air. “Of course. It’s our family’s legacy. And its curse.”

The guard whispered, “Sir, she could be.”

“Quiet,” Victoria said sharply, eyes never leaving Jacob. “They’re listening.”

The hooded figure nearest the gate tilted its head. “Ah. The matriarch arrives. How quaint.”

Victoria ignored them. “Jacob, the key doesn’t belong to them. Or to your grandfather. It belongs to the world.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means,” she said, stepping closer, “if Victor opens that vault, nations collapse. Economies burn. The key must disappear.”

The guard shifted uneasily. “Sir, this doesn’t smell right.”

Jacob held up a hand. “Why now? Why not tell me before?”

“Because,” she said, voice suddenly fierce, “I didn’t know if you were strong enough to choose.”

The first hooded figure laughed, low and cold. “Strong enough to betray blood, perhaps?”

Victoria’s eyes snapped to the gate. “You have no claim here. Leave.”

The second figure raised the obsidian disc. “Hand it over, and we vanish.”

“No,” Victoria said.

The figure pressed a thumb to the disc. A high-pitched whine filled the corridor. The guard barked, “EMP trigger!”

Victoria reached inside her coat and flicked a switch. Instantly the corridor lights flared bright white, then shifted to a shimmering blue grid, thin beams of light crissSmithing the passage like a laser cage.

The hooded figures froze as the beams tightened, forming a shimmering wall between them and the gate. Jacob blinked. “What.”

“Backup system,” Victoria said. “My design.”

The first figure hissed. “You planned this.”

“I plan everything,” she replied.

The blue grid vibrated, emitting a low hum. Sparks snapped along its edges. “Now,” Victoria said quietly, “give me the key, Jacob.”

Jacob felt the cylinder pressing against his ribs. “Why should I trust you?”

Her eyes softened, almost pleading. “Because I am your mother.”

The guard murmured, “Sir… think.”

Jacob’s heart pounded. The hooded figures stared through the shimmering grid, motionless, waiting. He met Victoria’s gaze. “What happens if I say no?”

Her voice turned to steel. “Then your grandfather opens the vault, and everything we know burns.”

The corridor trembled suddenly, an underground rumble, deep and resonant. Victoria’s head snapped toward the ceiling. “He’s already moving.”

Jacob’s comm crackled in his ear, Victor’s voice urgent. “Jacob! The vault protocol activated without my command. Systems failing, ”

Static swallowed the rest. Victoria extended her hand. “Now, Jacob!”

Behind them, the red emergency lights began to strobe violently, alarms wailing. The hooded figure shouted over the din. “Choose, heir. Blood or world!”

Jacob’s mind raced. Grandfather trapped. Mother demanding the key. Strangers promising ruin. The guard leaned in. “Sir, we have to move!”

The rumble intensified, dust sifting from the ceiling. Somewhere far above, a deep metallic groan echoed, a sound of massive gears grinding.

Jacob tightened his grip on the pistol with one hand and the cylinder with the other. “Jacob!” Victor’s voice returned in a burst of static. “Don’t, trust!”

The comm went dead. A sudden shriek of metal from the gate made every head snap around.

The blue grid flickered. Victoria’s eyes widened. “They’ve breached the override.”

A deafening crack split the corridor. The shimmering grid shattered like glass, blue shards of light scattering into darkness.

The hooded figures stepped forward as the alarms wailed, their distorted voices merging into one chilling sentence: “The key decides the blood.”