# Gloves Off: Bloodbound Bride

Author: Evelyn Hart
Site: ReadNovelHub
Canonical: https://readnovelhub.com/novel/gloves-off-bloodbound-bride
Genre: Mafia-Dark-Romance

## World
Become his bloodbound bride, or let the killers find you first.

## Tropes
- Dark Romance
- Mafia & Dark Romance
- Vampire & Blood Bond
- Cyberpunk & Sci-Fi
- Mafia-Dark-Romance
- Vampire-Blood-Bond
- Cyberpunk-SciFi

## FAQ
### What is Gloves Off: Bloodbound Bride about?
Become his bloodbound bride, or let the killers find you first.

### Who is the author of Gloves Off: Bloodbound Bride?
Gloves Off: Bloodbound Bride is written by Evelyn Hart. Read Chapter 1 free on ReadNovelHub.

### Is Gloves Off: Bloodbound Bride a Dark Romance story?
Yes. Gloves Off: Bloodbound Bride is tagged for Dark Romance readers looking for North American romance-fantasy tropes.

### Can I read Gloves Off: Bloodbound Bride Chapter 1 for free?
Yes. Chapter 1-5 Free. Chapter 6+ unlocked via Ads or a $0.00 trial. Start Gloves Off: Bloodbound Bride on ReadNovelHub.

### What happens at the start of Gloves Off: Bloodbound Bride?
The cake's still in the cart when Dad hits the pavement. One second he's reaching for his wallet. Next second there's a crack—loud, flat, wrong—and he's down. The grocery bag splits. Oranges roll everywhere.

## Chapter 1 teaser
### Chapter 1: Blood on Her Birthday

The cake's still in the cart when Dad hits the pavement. One second he's reaching for his wallet. Next second there's a crack—loud, flat, wrong—and he's down. The grocery bag splits. Oranges roll everywhere. I'm standing there with my phone half out, birthday text from my roommate still on the screen, and Dad's on his back between our car and some soccer mom's minivan. Blood's coming fast. Too fast. "Dad—" I drop next to him. My knees hit something wet. His chest is wrong. The hole's small but the blood's spreading dark across his shirt, and his mouth's opening and closing like he's trying to say something but can't get air behind it. People are screaming. Someone's yelling call 911. I'm pressing my hands on his chest and the blood's hot, it's so hot it's soaking through my sleeves, and Dad's looking at me like he's trying to make me understand something. "Don't—" He chokes. Red bubbles at the corner of his mouth. "Don't go home." "Dad, shut up, don't talk—" "List." He grabs my wrist. His grip's still strong. That scares me more than the blood. "You're on the list." "What list? Dad—" But he's not listening. He's pulling me closer, and I can smell copper and something else, something chemical, and his eyes are too wide. "Locke," he says. That's it. One word. Then his hand goes slack. I'm still holding pressure when the ambulance comes. EMTs have to pry my hands off. There's blood under my nails. My coat's ruined. Someone wraps one of those foil blankets around me and I'm sitting on the curb, shaking, watching them load Dad into the rig. A cop's asking me questions. I don't hear them. I'm thinking about that name. Locke. I know that name. Everyone in this city knows that name if they've been here long enough. Locke Gates. Irongate Family. The kind of people Dad spent seve

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