Blood Ties (Dinero de Sangre #2) - Lana Sky Page 0,52

ever ask for.

I was sure we’d be close forever.

“You look the same,” I tell her. “I guess some people keep their baby fat forever. It looks cute on you, though.”

Her smile falls flat, and I’m pathetic enough to take a grim sense of satisfaction in that. It’s so surreal to see her head, uninjured, her skin unblemished, giggling with Domino like they’re old friends. Even now, she keeps herself angled toward him, cleavage on display. It’s as if she’s become so accustomed to seeking out male attention, she’s compelled to do so, even when the male in question seems to have no interest in looking her way.

He’s fixated on the windows instead, eyeing the rapidly darkening sky.

“I’m going to check on our meal.” He rises to his feet and heads for the hallway. When I start to follow him out of habit, I swear I see him jerk his chin in a silent command. Stay. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Confused, I stare after him as my heart pounds unsteadily. Given that—in my entire time here—he’s preferred to summon servants who appear on a dime, rather than fetch our meals himself, I’m on edge. I’m flashed back to the night he had what he claimed to be my father served on a silver dish. Does he have a similar meal in mind for Alexi’s benefit?

Or… I realize as I turn my focus back to the woman in question, he left purposefully. So that we could “catch up” in private.

And what a lackluster reunion it’s shaping up to be. Without her required dose of testosterone nearby, Alexi slumps back in her seat, her eyes openly displaying disinterest. Sighing, she inspects a manicured hand, watching the light glint off her pink nails.

It’s a convincing show—because that’s exactly what I sense it really is. An act.

As the seconds tick by, she grows visibly impatient, waiting for me to make the first move.

Because she’s unsure of what I know, a part of me suspects. As much as she seems to hate me, she doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. Some sick, twisted corner of my brain gets immense pleasure out of watching her squirm.

But something tells me that Domino won’t give us long to reconnect. Is this impromptu opportunity for an interrogation done for her benefit? Or mine.

“So,” I say, flattening my hands against the table’s glass surface. “How long have you been fucking him?”

Alexi’s smile returns in full as her eyes narrow. “You know, I spent a long time trying to imagine how this would feel. To see the high and mighty Ada-Maria Pavalos sniveling in fear for once, cowering in the shadow of a plot she has no damn clue of. I thought I’d feel bad for you. Pity, maybe? In all honesty, I’m enjoying every minute of it. Humility looks good on you, Ada. You should try to embody it more often.”

I flinch, and I almost forget Domino’s warning from the pool. She works for him. And, their apparent relationship aside, it’s evident from the lengths he’s gone to conceal our conversations that he doesn’t trust her.

I have to tread carefully.

Hopefully, I can do so while knocking her down a peg or two.

“Why don’t you give me some pointers on humility?” I say. “In between fucking Tristan and Domino, I’m surprised you had room for anyone else.”

Her brows furrow for a split second before she disguises the expression behind another forced smile. Still, I know that I confused her. How?

“How has Dom been?” she asks in that husky purr, leaning back against her chair. “Poor man. To have spent so much time under the thumb of the mighty Pavalos family. I bet it was like being in prison. Who knows how much sexual frustration he’s built up over those long, hard years? No wonder you look like you’ve been dragged to hell and back. I think I would have trouble keeping up with that kind of virility, and I’ve heard that you’re the sort of girl who doesn’t like to break a sweat.”

“Haven’t you heard,” I croak, desperate to appear unrattled. “I like it rough.”

She purses her lips, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know, I never took you for the type to wind up in a situation like this,” she says, but I know a taunt when I hear one. “Alone in a big-ass manor with your father’s bodyguard and no connection to the outside world. I would have thought that someone who brands herself as a socialite