Blood Ties by Lana Sky!
A New Dark Cartel Romance!
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In this twisted dark cartel romance, revenge and hate collide with the past…
As Ada adjusts to the hellish predicament she finds herself in, one thing becomes painfully clear—Domino isn’t the only monster with her life in his hands.
And by no means is he the most dangerous.
Jaguar brings with him a wealth of mystery—and violence—that threatens to rock what little ground with Domino she’s managed to gain.
In the end, Ada will have to make a choice with both her life and her body on the line.
Only one man can offer her mercy should he choose to.
If only she knew which fate would hurt less—losing her freedom, or losing her heart?
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“Alive and not sold,” I prod, mistrustful of any way he might play the semantics to his benefit. “Alive and not your captive. Alive and—”
“Alive and with far more freedom than you entered this mess having. Don’t pretend that you were living of your own free will before. You were already a prisoner before I took you.”
I flinch, blinking my eyes open to find him still glowering at the wall, his head lowered, knuckles white with how hard he has his hands pressed against the stone.
I’m startled by how drastically rage can transform him. Consume.
Though, in a way, it makes sense, reinforcing just how expertly he’s lived under his lies. I’m only seeing five years of the rage and hate he’s been suppressing all along.
And God, is it terrifying.
“Be a good girl, and you’ll have my balls in a vice, little Ada,” he adds gruffly. “That’s what you wanted from the start, isn’t it?”
It is. Only now, I want his literal balls and a real metal vice to crush them with.
Still, I’m not stupid enough to stick my nose up at the only shred of honesty he’s offered me. I’ll worry about the details and the morality of it later. For now, I’m desperate for some shred of hope.
Something to fight for.
“Fine, Domino,” I tell him softly. “I’ll be a good girl and play my role. After all, I was born to play pretend, wasn’t I?”
His nostrils flare, his expression guarded. “I suppose you were. Go—” He inclines his head to the balcony. “Get cleaned up. Ines will call you for dinner. I suggest you think long and hard about how exactly you plan on being a good girl and don’t second-guess that decision. I’ll only ever extend my trust to you once. Remember that.”
His words haunt me as I lurch from the room on trembling legs, still dripping blood as I go.
Lana Sky is a reclusive writer in the United States who spends most of her time daydreaming about complex male characters and legless cats. She writes mostly paranormal romance, in between watching reruns of Ab Fab and drinking iced tea. Only iced tea.