Blood Ties (Dinero de Sangre #2) - Lana Sky Page 0,55

against the dresser for added reinforcement.

Then, like a coward, I race into the closet, close the door and wedge myself behind the back shelf.

Chapter Fourteen

Sound travels in this house. I can hear the clinking of silverware and muttered voices. Apparently, Domino and Alexi have carried on with their meal without me.

Somehow, I find that more unnerving than if he had hunted me down the hall and was banging on the door. It means that he’s willing to make me wait, stewing in his anger and devising a crueler punishment.

The full extent of what I’ve done doesn’t sink in until I parse over what I said to him—all within Alexi’s earshot. If I truly wasn’t supposed to know about his role in masterminding the twisted plot that got me here, well, then I’m about to find out.

Though, I can’t feel too guilty for tarnishing his little ruse when I realize that Alexi let a secret of her own slip. Domino had her sleep with Tristan and was ready and waiting to take pictures.

Did he convince her during those sexy sessions between the two of them that he also documented? All she had to do was “play her role.”

It stings to think of him working with her—of the two of them plotting against my family and me. Even if I did cause a rift between him and Jaguar over his apparent deceit, I shouldn’t care. Right?

I can’t ignore the way he looked at me in the bathroom as blood dripped down my face. He seemed unguarded then, as though he had nothing to hide. Nothing left to lose.

What will he do if he thinks I’ve put a wrench in his carefully crafted plan?

I don’t have to speculate for long.

I hear footsteps first, light initially, then firmer. Heavier. They advance slowly in this direction, as though the source of them has all the time in the world.

But the closer they come, the more anger becomes apparent in every steady, resonating footfall.

My heart starts to race as they grow nearer, eventually stopping where I assume the door to be. I hear a distinctive jangle as if they tested the doorknob, finding it locked.

I tense, expecting banging. A threat. Promises of violence.

Instead…

The steps retreat.

My confusion spurs me to creep from my hiding place, straining my ears for any other sound that might give me a clue of his next course of action. All I hear is silence, and the chirping of insects encroaching from outside. I must have left the window open.

But despite how hard I listen, I can’t discern any noises that might be coming from inside the house. No footsteps. No voices, either Domino’s or Alexi’s.

No noise at all, except for my rapidly beating heart and the frantic sound of my own breathing.

Warily, I creep to the closet door and push it open—only to have it wrenched out of my grasp, flung from the outside.

Domino lurks behind it, though I don’t believe my eyes at first. Behind him, the mattress and wardrobe are still positioned before the closed door. There’s no way he could have gotten in.

Then I feel him—the heat of his breath against my temple as he exhales harshly. With one hand, he grips the doorway, blocking me in. His fingers shake, the knuckles stark white, his entire body resonating with tension.

“You have no fucking clue what you’ve done,” he tells me, but his voice is worlds apart from the restrained growl he displayed in the dining room. It’s nowhere close to his bellowed shouts or the angriest snarl I’ve heard him utilize. It’s different. Colder. Softer. Like a whisper ripped from his chest, against his will. Something so hard for him to voice he can’t believe he’s actually doing so. “Do you?”

He releases the door and snags my chin, dragging me toward him. “You stupid, foolish…” He breaks off as if I’m not even worth the effort of insulting. “You’ve just fucked up everything I’ve spent five fucking years putting into motion. Again.”

I flinch at that. It sounds like such an overreaction to one petty outburst. Alexi Rojas has the power to unravel the schemes of the great and powerful Domino Valenciaga? I wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t for his words that choose now to haunt me.

She works for him.

His eyes narrow, nostrils flaring. “Goddamn, I should just let him have you. You’re not even worth the fucking effort of—”

“Maybe if you would stop lying to me,” I croak, trying to wrench away. “I could actually trust you.”

He tightens