All Chapters of BLOODLINE SWAP: Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

The glass didn’t just break.It exploded.One second Zara Bello was typing away at her laptop, the next the whole damn boardroom erupted in screams. The air turned thick with that sharp, metallic smell of fear and gunpowder.She dropped. Knee slammed into the cold tile first. Pain ripped up her leg like fire. She bit down hard on her lip and tasted blood.Not today. Please God, not today.Her laptop skidded across the long table. That stupid Q3 report she’d killed herself over for two months. If it got ruined, Damian Cole would probably march her out himself with a cardboard box and a fake smile.Idiot. Worrying about a spreadsheet while people are shooting.“Get down!” somebody yelled.But Zara didn’t listen. She crawled under the table because her favorite pen had rolled away and she couldn’t just leave it there. She was that kind of mess.A strong hand suddenly grabbed the back of her blazer and yanked. She landed flat on her back on top of someone warm and solid. He smelled like g

The lights were still out.Zara could hear her own breathing. Too fast. And somewhere in the dark, glass crunching under a shoe.“Don’t move,” Marcus said. His voice low, right by her ear.Zara nodded. Couldn’t speak.Damian cursed under his breath. “Generator’s in the utility room. Stay here.”“Like hell,” Marcus replied. “We move together.”Zara felt a hand grab hers. Warm. Calloused. Marcus.“Come on,” he whispered.They moved slow through the dark. Her red dress kept catching on things. She had kicked off the heels minutes ago. Barefoot now on the cold floor.Stupid dress. Stupid gala. Stupid life.Another crash came from the kitchen. Zara flinched hard. Marcus pulled her closer against him.Damian’s voice cut through the black. “I’ve got it.”A click. Emergency lights flickered on. Dim yellow glow.The penthouse looked different like this. Smaller. Messier. A broken vase lay by the door. Water everywhere.No one there.“It was a warning,” Damian said, picking up a shard of glass.

Zara hated the penthouse by day three.Too quiet. Too big. Too many people calling her ma’am.“Ma’am, breakfast.” “Ma’am, your schedule.” “Ma’am, Damian said—”She wasn’t ma’am. She was twenty-four, broke, and pregnant.“Can you all stop calling me that?” Zara said at breakfast.The housekeeper blinked. “Yes, ma’am.”God.Damian had already left for a 5am meeting. Marcus sat at the kitchen island with coffee and his gun right next to it. Like that was normal.“Morning,” Marcus said.“Morning,” Zara replied, grabbing a piece of toast. “I need to go out.”“No,” Marcus said.“I need groceries,” Zara lied. “For Tolu. She’s out of meds.”Marcus sipped his coffee. “I’ll send someone.”“I’ll go,” Zara insisted. “You can come if you’re that worried.”Marcus stared at her. “You’re serious.”“I’m serious,” she said. “I’m not a prisoner.”Marcus sighed. “Fine. Thirty minutes. And you wear this.”He tossed her a heavy bulletproof jacket.Zara put it on. “I look like a tank.”“You look safe,” Ma

The rain hit like bullets. Zara was soaked before she made it from the car to the hotel. Marcus had his jacket over her head. It didn’t help.“Damian booked 2 rooms,” Marcus said. “One for you. One for me.”“Where’s his?” Zara asked, teeth chattering.“Penthouse floor,” Marcus said. “We’re on 12.”The elevator dinged. The moment the doors opened, the lights died. Black.“Generator should kick in,” Marcus said, hand on Zara’s back.It didn’t.“Stay here,” Marcus said. “I’ll check the hallway.”Zara grabbed his sleeve. “No.”“Zara—”“I’m not staying alone,” Zara said.Marcus sighed. “Fine. Room.”Room 1204.Marcus swiped the card. Nothing. “Power’s out,” he said, pushing the door open manually. Dark. It smelled like rain and hotel soap.Zara fumbled for her phone. Flashlight on. One bed. King size. One tiny couch. One bathroom.“Shit,” Zara said.“What?” Marcus asked.