Blood Ties by Lana Sky

Chapter Three

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice is softer than it should be, perfectly controlled to not be overheard by anyone beyond this room. “Come here—”

“Why?” I’m still watching Jaguar and his posse. They look dangerous, even from afar. The sort of men my father would meet miles from the city when he thought no one saw him. A reporter did once and threatened to blackmail him, using photographic evidence.

Until my father sent me to charm my way into his office and plant materials that he reported stolen from our house earlier that week, ensuring the man was jailed and unable to access his so-called evidence. At least until he was released on bail and found all of his electronics smashed to pieces. Such was the way my father handled any threat.

With vicious, underhanded tactics or outright bribery.

Whatever he wanted protected, he hid under lock and key, deploying them only when necessary. Whether he realizes it or not, Domino’s been acting the same way—obscuring his hatred toward my family, then revealing Pia’s diary…

And by taking me now?

Trying to decipher his motives hurts my brain. Banishing all thoughts of him, I relish the heat of the weakened sun on my body, counting down the seconds that pass without him dragging me inside.

Then, some harrowing moment between Jaguar’s next whistle and my own heartbeat, I realize that he won’t. He can’t.

Because to do so would risk breaking his façade before the one person he seems determined to hide me from. Alexi or Jaguar?

That’s the real question.

When I turn to face him, I can’t glean an answer from his expression alone. All I find is pure, molten rage.

His teeth flash, the only break in the shadows that shroud most of his expression. “Get in.”

I don’t refuse him outright. I just brace my elbows against the balcony on either side of me and lean back, feeling my heart race like mad. I’m terrified. I’m also resigned.

Honestly, in this moment, I feel like I wouldn’t have any problem at all with leaning back further. Too far. Falling over this balcony entirely and landing on the rugged terrain below.

He must realize that, but the prospect alarms him enough to stalk forward, coming into view of our audience below. I watch his eyes, waiting to see who they flicker toward first.

Unsettlingly, they remain fixated on me, a writhing mass of brown and flecks of green, promising a wrath unlike any I’ve experienced from him so far.

For a second, I rock on my heels, testing how much force it would truly require to actually hurl myself over the edge.

Too late.

He reaches me within a fraction of a second, palming the side of my face to pull me close.

“You have no idea what game you’re playing, Ada-Maria,” he murmurs, his tone so level and soft it’s damn near gentle. His hands betray his malice, however, shaking against my skin as if it’s requiring every ounce of restraint he has just to keep from ripping me apart.

“I think I do,” I counter, shocked by how hard my voice sounds in comparison to his.

His eyes narrow—he’s shocked as well.

Possessed by whatever boldness has taken hold of me, I keep talking. “I think I’m showing the man you sold me to what he can expect once he completes his purchase.”

I wince at the intensity his eyes take on. Something beyond anger, beyond rage.

“Oh, how I will punish you for that,” he growls, lowering his mouth against my ear. “You have no fucking idea of the danger you are in. The sheer stupidity of what you’re doing—”

“Then tell me.” I’m louder than he is, threatening to break the show he’s putting on.

Touching me like this…

From the outside, I know what it will look like. Like I’m out here with his permission—that his relationship with me is cordial enough to permit him to stroke my cheek and stand so close.

But why? It’s not the expected behavior a man would show toward a woman he’s brutalized and kidnapped.

And relenting to his touch isn’t the way one would expect such a woman to act toward her captor.

I must twitch or make some move to pull away because he’s closer, using his body weight to practically crush me against the railing.

“Get the fuck inside.” His tone loses any shred of control; it’s rippling, verging on something too primal to be considered speech. “You dumb, stupid cunt. You have no idea what you’ve done. None!”

But said ignorance isn’t any fault of my own. It strikes me now that, against his demands, I have one last card to play, however fragile it may be.

I raise my hand, cupping the back of his. As a result, his nails scrape against my cheek in a silent warning—but I’m playing along.

For now.

“Then tell me,” I demand.

Finally, his eyes dart away from me, and I have my answer as to whose presence has him on edge—Jaguar’s. Whatever he sees triggers a flicker of alarm across his expression.

The next thing I know, his mouth is on mine, his hands roughly cupping my hips, pulling me into him. From the outside, it must look like a sexy, heated kiss filled with lust and passion.

In reality, his teeth seize onto my lower lip, preventing any chance I could easily pull away. With his strength, he snatches me to him, maneuvering me from the balcony and within the room in seconds.

Once we’re away from view, he shoves me so hard I go flying, barely managing to catch myself on the edge of the mattress.

“You will pay for this,” he warns, his voice ice. “You—”

“Tell me why or I’ll scream,” I croak, still stunned by how quickly he moved.

The threat, however, must slip beneath his armor. He flinches, his eyes slits as I open my mouth and suck in air in preparation.

“Tell me—”

“You aren’t supposed to know that I’ve sold you.” He says it so tonelessly. As if he’s referring to a pair of shoes and not a woman. Me. My body. My life.

Voice rasping, the only reply I can choke out is, “W-What?”

“Why would I tell you?” he adds, closing the door to the balcony with a thud. Arms crossed, he starts to pace, his back to me. Ironically, it’s reminiscent of the times I would watch him in the dark, performing this very act in front of my family’s guest house, seeming as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. “As far as Jaguar knows, you think I’ve rescued you from the attack that killed your boyfriend. You think you’re safe under my protection here. It minimizes the risk to him for you to be in the dark.”

He doesn’t laugh or sneer. He’s telling the truth.

In Jaguar’s eyes, I’m his simpering little fool.

“You… You unimaginable bastard.” My voice breaks. I almost can’t fathom the cruelty—let alone the thought that he’s telling the truth. That could have easily been my reality if I didn’t regain consciousness to overhear his two goons discussing his ownership of me.

He even said it himself—I aimed to use her ignorance to my advantage.

The worst part that I find truly horrifying is that it could have worked. In a different world, I could have easily been lulled into a false sense of safety, believing he was my savior. In fact, that was my first hope soon after I awoke here.

And he took great pains to reveal that hope for what it was—fragile and pathetic.

“Why?” I demand. “Why tell me at all? Do you get off on my fear?”

Or maybe he truly hates me that much. He couldn’t even endure a lie long enough to gain my trust and have me put my faith in him. I am that repulsive to him.

The thought stings, but he never takes the chance to drive the truth home, right when it will hurt me the most. When I look up, he’s watching me, his expression devoid of any hint of emotion. He might as well be stone.

“You know what I want,” he says.

And maybe I do.

“Pia,” I rasp. Drawing my knees to my chest, I hunch over myself, suddenly aware of how naked I am in comparison to him. “You think she’s dead, and you think I know where some file my father had is. Because you are her brother.”

Navid.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t deny it outright. He cocks his head as if weighing my word choice. Apparently, I got some details wrong.

“You know where she is,” he says softly. “Maybe you think you don’t, but somewhere in that vapid, fucking brain is the answer. I’m sure of that.”

“You’re wrong,” I say. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my voice sound so hollow. So hopeless.

Can I even blame him?

I could play the victim and ignore the things I’ve done to Pia. I may not have killed her, but I certainly betrayed her. I conspired against her, and I shunned her without hearing her side.

Though who could blame me?

She slept with my father and used me to get to him, just as Domino seems determined to use me. And my father…

That’s all my life has been—being used, and used, and used.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Domino demands.

I’m staggering to my feet, heading for the balcony despite him moving to stand in front of me.

“I’m going to see if Jaguar is still here and beg him to take me with him—”

“Don’t!” He snatches my arm, yanking me back. “You have no fucking idea who he is. You think he’ll be your knight in shining armor? You are dead wrong, Ada-Maria.”

“I don’t care.”

And I don’t.

“Wait—” He tightens his grip when I attempt to take another step.

“Why should I?” I pull back to see his face, but I’m not prepared for the expression I find. Not one of hate. Instead, his eyes are narrowed, his head tilted as though he’s contemplating a puzzle he only has seconds to solve.

“I want to find Pia’s body,” he admits, pulling me even closer.

Not because he truly thinks I can break away, but because he’s that worried about being overheard. Whatever he’s saying, he does so while being fully cautious of Jaguar, despite the other man being yards away outside of the house.

“Help me, and you will have my protection. Trust me, it’s a better offer than anything else you’ll be presented with.”

“I…” Don’t know is my first impulsive reply. Truly I don’t. If Pia is dead, she could be anywhere. Besides, Domino has worked with my father; if anyone would have an idea of where he’d bury the body of a dead girl over a decade ago, it would be him.

And yet, something makes me swallow those words before I can fully voice them.

He means what he said to me—you will have my protection. It could be a lie, or another mind game. In the grand scheme, he could just sell me to Jaguar once he’s through with me and never look back.

But he’s right.

I don’t have a better option.

Why not get some leverage over him, no matter how fragile, and bide my time until a better opportunity comes along?

“Jaguar is a dangerous man, Ada-Maria,” he warns, still speaking in an undertone, his jaw practically pressed against mine. “You have no idea what he’s capable of, the things he will do to you if he gets the chance. I am your only hope of surviving with that pretty little body intact.”

“Fine.” It pains me to choke down a nasty retort and face him while keeping my expression blank.

He’s wary, his eyes slits as they scan my gaze, hunting for any sign of deceit. I don’t know if I aim to reassure him, or I merely have to hear myself say it out loud to believe it.

“I’ll play your game if you promise to protect me. I’ll do what I can to help you find Pia.”

That phrasing makes it not an outright lie.

But he didn’t miss it. “You lead me to Pia’s body if you want a damn thing from me,” he warns. “In the meantime, you prance around here like a happy little cum whore, and you let Jaguar and his spy believe that you are oblivious to everything. I am your hero who rescued you from a living nightmare after you watched your boyfriend be murdered right in front of you. Understand?”

I don’t. My head is spinning, trying to juggle it all, and now I know why he locked me in here—to protect his lie.

And yet, it betrays a rare hint of vulnerability on his part that he’s even revealed as much to me.

“I guess this means that you have no need to lock your naïve, captive bunny rabbit in a bedroom without her consent, then,” I croak. His nostrils flare, his grip on my arm tightening—but the display alone reveals that I’m right. Therefore, I don’t mind twisting the knife just a little more. “I guess that means no more collar, either.”

“Don’t forget that Jaguar knows I injured you badly enough to require an extra week for you to heal, Ada-Maria. This isn’t some fairy tale fucking romance—”

“How did you explain it?” I ask, jutting my chin as I parse through what few possible explanations I can come up with. None make sense. “Why would any woman stay with you willingly after what you’ve done? Why would my ‘hero’ collar me and have me whipped?”

“Do you really want to know?” He smiles, but it’s a grotesque distortion of his mouth, nothing more. “I told him you like it rough—” He releases me, retreating toward another corner of the room. A second later, a wad of fabric lands against my chest, thrown by him. “Get dressed. And if you want to extend your life beyond Tuesday, you’ll do what I say—which is keep your mouth shut.”

The clothing he gave me is his, I realize. His shirt, which I pull on without complaint, too distracted by his revelation to care that, in this context, my little stunt has lost all its meaning.

No longer am I toying with his boundaries, but playing right into his sick narrative. His loyal, love-struck captive would, of course, choose to wear an item of his.

Did Alexi?

Her presence here irritates me more the longer I ponder Domino’s reaction to her. He kept pictures of him fondling her naked body in his closet. And yet, how did he refer to her?

Jaguar’s spy…

“Ines will bring you your lunch here,” Domino says.

I look over my shoulder to find him entering the hall. From the way he reaches for the doorknob, I can tell what he intends to do.

Lock me in.

“I thought you said I could leave?”

He scoffs. “I am not as dumb as I look, Ada-Maria, and you are not as convincing as you think you are. I’ve humored you this once, but if you want my trust, batting your eyelashes and showing off your tits isn’t how you get it. You earn it. Or so help me God, I will get that collar you like so much, wrap it around your throat and tie you in the closet like an animal for the week. Jaguar be damned. Do you understand that?”

He doesn’t give me the chance to answer.

He slams the door, and a definitive click that sounds after reveals that he wasn’t bluffing.

I’m locked in.

Quickly, though, I realize that I’m not completely without a weapon of my own.

I almost miss it as I pace, tearing my fingers through my hair as I consider going back onto that balcony and screaming bloody murder for anyone to hear.

He left it on the glass case of watches in the middle of the closet, perhaps as his own twisted attempt at a peace offering.

Or a taunt.

The pink surface mocks me as I approach it and warily run my fingers across the cover. Apart from last night, I haven’t touched this object in ten years. A decade.

Plenty of time for Pia’s lies and schemes to come back to bite me.

You think you’re so different from me?she screamed at me during one of the last times I ever saw her. You’re just a selfish, spoiled little bitch who can’t see beyond her stupid life. The rest of us? We’re not so lucky, Ada. I don’t have a papa to snap his fingers and fix my problems!

I’d been so angry; I could have exploded. Never, had I felt that kind of rage before, or since. So that’s why you had to fuck him, then? I’d thrown back at her. Who’s the bitch now?

She blinked, her green eyes blazing, glistening with unshed tears. I’ll never forget the look she gave me. Almost one of pity. You have no idea what the hell is going on, do you? God, you’re pathetic, Ada. Just give me my fucking diary back, and we can forget this ever happened…

But it was too late by then, of course.

I’d already given it to my father.

And I’d already read every word.