• Home
  • Lana Sky
  • Blood Bound (A Dark Cartel Romance) (Dinero de Sangre Book 3)

Blood Bound (A Dark Cartel Romance) (Dinero de Sangre Book 3) Read online




  Blood Bound

  Dinero de Sangre Book 3

  Lana Sky

  Also by Lana Sky

  DARK MAFIA ROMANCE

  Beautiful Monsters

  Crescendo

  Refrain

  Mezzo

  Allegro

  El Mundo de Sangre

  Dinero de Sangre

  Blood Money

  Blood Ties

  Blood Bound

  Diamante de Sangre

  Blood Diamond

  The War of Roses Universe

  The War of Roses

  XV: (Fifteen)

  VII: (Seven)

  I: (One)

  The Complete War of Roses Trilogy

  Of Mice and Men

  Ruthless King

  Queen of Thorns

  Shattered Throne

  Mended Crown

  DARK BDSM BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

  Club XXX

  Maxim: Submit

  Maxim: Obey

  Maxim: Surrender

  Maxim: The Complete Trilogy

  Vadim: Control

  Vadim: Corrupt

  Vadim: Conquer

  Vadim: The Complete Trilogy

  DARK ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  Painted Sin

  A Touch of Dark

  A Taste like Sin

  The Complete Painted Sin Duet

  Dragon Triad Duet

  Moth

  Flame

  The Complete Dragon Triad Duet

  DARK AGE-GAP ROMANCE

  Standalones

  Pretty Perfect

  Crossed Lines

  DARK PARANORMAL ROMANCE

  The Ellie Gray Chronicles

  Drain Me

  Chain Me

  The Complete Ellie Gray Chronicles

  NEWSLETTER EXCLUSIVE

  Rockstar Rebels

  Dirty Lyrics (Newsletter Exclusive)

  Blood Bound

  Blood Bound By Lana Sky

  Copyright © 2021 by Lana Sky

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design and Interior Formatting by Charity Chimni

  Editing and Proofreading by Charity Chimni

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  A Word from the Author

  About the Author

  Also by Lana Sky

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks so much to everyone who supported this draft along the way, including the many beta readers who provided encouragement! Please keep in mind that this story includes dark, graphic and explicit content matter that is not suitable for readers under the age of 18—or for readers who are uncomfortable with the following subject matter: explicit sex, mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of child abuse, mentions of eating disorders, graphic depictions of violence, and mentions of self-harm.

  Chapter One

  I’ve never felt hatred like this before—it devours me. My head pounds, my vision blurred by tears. At the back of my mind, I know I’m being irrational.

  Insane…

  But all I can do is approach her in a way I never have, snatching a slender arm the second I’m close enough.

  “Ada? What the hell?” She turns, fixing those green eyes in my direction. They blaze irritation and that smug confidence she always possessed. Like nothing in the world could ever hurt her.

  And no one.

  “Finally come to show your face?” She wrenches her arm away from me, her teeth bared in a snarl. “I know what you did, you little bitch. Though should I be surprised? You’re just like them. Evil…”

  The memory fades as I startle to awareness, unsure of where I am. All I know for sure is that I’m lying on something soft. A bed?

  The air is so heavy, scented with an acrid stench reminiscent of beer. I think… The harder I try to get my bearings, the dizzier I feel. It’s like I’m underwater. Every sound echoes, muddled and distorted.

  Except for one.

  “You shouldn’t have come here.” The hostile tone sends alarm shooting down my spine.

  Something’s wrong. What, exactly? I’m not sure.

  I think I should be with someone…

  “She needed medical attention,” another man replies as if answering my unspoken question. His name comes to me with chilling recognition. Domino.

  “And you did too, I suppose,” the first man replies.

  We must be in a room. I think I hear the whirl of a fan, and cool air teases my skin every few seconds, lessening the overall heat that has sweat dripping down my forehead. The voices sound nearby, but I don’t see a thing. Belatedly, I realize my eyes are closed, too heavy to lift.

  “I see the way you’re shaking like a fucking leaf, Dom,” the first speaker continues. “How long has it been, huh? You think you can go toe to toe with Jaguar while you’re fighting through withdrawal? Spit it out and ask what you really want.”

  “Her arm. How bad is it?” Domino demands. I shiver as his voice runs through me. For once, it contained some vague emotion. Concern?

  Her arm.

  A wave of memories washes over me. My wrist. Pain…

  “I set it,” the man replies with a sigh. “She’ll heal up fine enough. I might even have an extra brace around here somewhere. Now, let’s talk about you. How much longer do you think you can go on without a dose?”

  “I need you to keep an eye on Inez while I’m gone,” Domino continues. “I mean it, Luis. If anything happens to her—”

  “She knows the risks of going against Jaguar better than anyone. Hell, she practically raised the bastard.”

  “You think that will stop him from killing her if he gets the chance?”

  “Of course not,” Luis replies gruffly. “I’ll see what I can do. But like I said, she knew the risks. The same risks that come with going off painkillers cold turkey without a backup supply.”

  A low sigh teases the air before Domino finally bites out, “So do you have any?”

  “Not much,” Luis admits. “Enough to get you over the border, at least. Can I ask what your plan is from there? Fuck around and hope that you can traipse through the city unnoticed with Ada Pavalos in tow? What?” he scoffs. “You think I didn’t recognize the face that’s plastered all over the news reports? If you want to buy yourself more time, I suggest you cut her hair, at least.”

  Domino’s reply is muffled, as if he moved further away. I find myself straining to hear him. My eyelids twitch, but even that amount of movement is a struggle. More sweat drips down my forehead by the time I manage to pry open one eye enough to see through.

  It’s blindingly bright. Only s
natches of my surroundings register. White walls. Yellow sunlight. A sputtering ceiling fan, and…

  A shadowy figure who looms just out of sight, his silhouette chillingly familiar.

  “She should be good for some light travel at least,” the other man, Luis, continues. “But I suggest you get her to a doctor soon. Only a crazy motherfucker could cause that kind of a break with his bare hands. You really want to go up against that alone?”

  “I…” As he speaks, Domino finally comes into view. He’s pacing, his back to me, shoulders rippling with tension, straining the black shirt he wears. With a tilt of his head, his eyes cut in my direction. It’s like I’ve been holding my breath, instinctively waiting for his acknowledgment.

  Once I have it, my mind goes blank, unsure of how to process him. Friend?

  Or foe.

  “She’s awake,” he says, frowning. “Give her another dose. Enough to buy me a few more hours, at least.”

  Another dose of what? I attempt to speak—say anything—but I can’t. All I can do is frantically try to meet his gaze, but he looks away. Almost as if he’s deliberately avoiding eye contact.

  “Don’t you think you’ve put her through enough?”

  “Trust me.” His lips twist into a grimace. “She’ll enjoy the ride.”

  “You haven’t said what you’re even after?” Another man appears at his shoulder, fumbling with a small glass vial. He’s relatively short, with graying brown hair and piercing eyes gazing from behind wire-rimmed glasses. I don’t recognize him, but I assume he’s Luis.

  “Breaking your cover after so long. Taking on Jaguar directly,” he harrumphs. “You must have friends in powerful places. Rumor has it you’ve been working with the feds to cover your ass when Pavalos’ little empire falls. I shouldn’t have to be the one to tell you how fucking bad of an idea that is if true.”

  “Just get her ready.”

  “I will… But I hope you haven’t forgotten the only reason I’m risking my neck for you in the first place. Because of Lia—”

  “I haven’t,” Domino replies, advancing closer to me. Still frowning, he palms the side of my face, radiating an addictive warmth. “But don’t forget your end of the bargain either.”

  “I’ve already secured a truck you can use, and my contact is ready to ferret you across. The only catch is that you’ll be on a tight deadline. You need to reach him within two days, not a second later. Understood?”

  “I just need to make one detour. Then I’ll be there.”

  “And where would that be? Plan to go sightseeing before you catch a bullet in your skull? Oh, don’t give me that look, Dom. I could have called Jaguar by now if I wanted to turn you in.”

  “North,” Domino says cryptically.

  “Through Mateo’s territory? He won’t like that.”

  “Which is why you won’t inform him,” Domino warns.

  Luis shrugs. “Mind if I ask exactly how you plan on traveling anywhere with an injured woman in tow? Besides, what I can spare regarding your little problem will last you only a few days, at most. Then you’ll have to find your own supply.”

  “All you need to worry about is making sure your contact holds up. As for the rest… Once I return to Terra Rodea, not even Jaguar can stand in my way.”

  He steps closer, and I try to speak. Move—anything—but I’m paralyzed as a sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me.

  Was I drugged already?

  A violent high could certainly explain the last thing I see as my lids flutter shut—Domino Valenciaga, looming above, the devil, ripped right from my nightmares.

  When I regain consciousness, I’m still floating in that dreamy state of awareness. Not awake. Not asleep. I hate this feeling. The stupidest things come back to me—memories that should have died a long time ago.

  Like Pia…

  Her face haunts me, ripped right from the last night I ever saw her, her blazing eyes fixed in a hateful glare.

  “You’re just like them,” she hissed. “Evil!”

  She lunged for me next, nail drawn. All I could do was throw out both hands, pushing back as hard as I could. The move was impulsive. Instinctual.

  But the sickening thud that followed was way too loud. Too heavy.

  You’re evil, Ada…

  Perhaps, we are; everyone cursed with the last name Pavalos. An insidious nature infects my father’s bloodline, doomed to corrupt all who follow in his path. A Pavalos will do anything to survive—a tenet I embodied in every way—until Domino Valenciaga weaponized that tried-and-true creed against me.

  I remember now. Everything responsible for the pulsing anxiety building in my gut, at least. When given a choice between Domino and another monster, I was stupid enough to trust that, even for a second, he had my best interests at heart.

  Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise that I’m too exhausted to face what I’ve done—not that I find much reprieve in unconsciousness. Sleep continues to come in broken fragments as the noisy, violent world beyond fights for my attention. One persistent sound rises above the rest, giving me some clue of where I am. Near a radio or a television broadcasting a news report:

  “…politician Roy Pavalos is still hospitalized in critical condition, while a search is underway for his daughter Ada-Maria. Arriving at the Terra Rodea international airport early yesterday morning, Rodrigo Pavalos declined to comment on the status of either his brother or his deceased sister-in-law…”

  Rodrigo? It’s seconds before I finally make the connection—Rodrigo Pavalos—my uncle. I haven’t seen him in years, but any hope I feel is immediately swallowed by horror. If he’s in Terra Rodea, then it’s further proof that at least one of Domino’s claims is true.

  My father is alive…

  And the broadcaster confirmed another horrifying claim of his—my mother is dead. The sick part is I haven’t found the space to mourn her amid the chaos my life has become. Even now, someone else takes precedence—the owner of the masculine scent flooding my nostrils with every breath.

  Domino.

  No one so cruel should smell like he does. Like sin. One inhale, and some twisted part of me ignites, despite the million other ways the man repulses me. He’s a liar for one, and a murderer…

  More memories return by the second, reinforcing each menacing descriptor—but any real fear is kept at bay by a dreamy, warm cloud separating my brain from the rest of my body. I recognize this feeling. I’m high. But not high enough. What lurks beneath this dizzy euphoria is still recognizable, though dulled and distant. Pain. A lot of pain.

  Along with that unshakable sense of unease.

  For now, I ignore it all to reassemble more of my scattered thoughts. Think. The most pressing issue, of course, is where am I? My hazy memories provide a clue, uttered by Domino himself, I’m taking you back…

  To Terra Rodea—but not in the hopes of a joyful Pavalos family reunion. No. He wants me to find Pia’s body.

  The low rumble of a vehicle’s engine reinforces that very scenario. We must be in his car, jostling over an uneven road. Hell, for all I know, we could be in Terra right now.

  The noise that first woke me—definitely a radio—continues, fragmented and disrupted by static.

  “…no further news on the whereabouts of Ada-Maria Pavalos, but a nationwide search is currently underway. A press release by the office of Roy Pavalos stated that—” Suddenly, the sound cuts off, replaced by a guttural rasp.

  “I know you’re awake. Open your eyes.”

  His voice serves as the catalyst needed to jumpstart my exhausted brain. I can move again. Warily, I blink, wincing as my vision adjusts to the blinding hot sun spilling in through the windshield. My first observation is that we aren’t in the car I remember. This vehicle is higher off the ground, sporting a narrower cabin and tan, fabric seats instead of leather. A truck?

  The landscape visible beyond the windows differs slightly from the desolate fields surrounding his estate. Instead, tan grasses and cacti speckle the ea
rth beyond a poorly maintained dirt road.

  Domino doesn’t seem alarmed by the remoteness. With a steely calm, he manipulates the wheel to navigate the rough terrain. His hair hangs loosely down his shoulders, his eyes narrowed with determination. A hot jolt of jealousy shoots through me. I hate how unfazed he always manages to seem.

  “Where are we?” I croak, wincing as my throat aches. I’m thirsty.

  The last thing I can coherently remember is him putting me in a car after nightfall. Then waking up, though in a room. He was speaking to a man, Luis, referring to my arm, and a “dose” of something I assume is responsible for my current high. Who knows how much time has passed since then?

  “On schedule,” Domino cryptically replies. “We only have time for one break, so make it count.”

  “On time for what?”

  Abruptly, he pulls onto the side of the road and parks. As he wrenches open the door on his end, a burst of acrid air slams into me like a battering ram—followed by fear.

  Weakly, I turn in his direction. “What are you doing?”

  “I suggest you stretch your legs now,” Domino continues, unconcerned by my discomfort. “That is, if you want to piss without getting bit by a rattlesnake. They come out in droves to sun themselves on the rocks this time of day.”

  I don’t know what disarms me more. His uncharacteristic calm—or that his statement doubles as a thinly veiled threat.