Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
NORTH CAROLINA
A dria’s office was a modest space just off her bedroom. The estate had a traditional study in the north wing, but that had belonged to her father.
Behind her, tall windows offered a sweeping view of the grounds. It was still early in the day, and she could feel the sun’s warmth on her back.
The household staff had spent the past week preparing for Bryson’s arrival. Everything needed to go smoothly. Perfectly. There was no room for error. She focused on her mental checklists, issuing quiet corrections to Eric as needed. Her fingers tugged at her sleeve, dragging the cuff down to hide the faded scars on her wrists.
“Ma’am.” Eric stood in the doorway, a solid presence in dark service pants, his belt bristling with gadgets and discreet weaponry.
She didn’t look up. “Hmm?”
“Bryson is here.”
She glanced at the clock. Four hours early.
Of course he was.
If this was Callen’s attempt to throw her off balance, it wouldn’t work. Bryson Winters was hers for the next twelve months. A full year to release her anger, to bury the sting of failure beneath control and command.
X had given her one final request, before going radio silent.
Train him.
Maybe X believed Bryson’s sale could earn her leverage. Contacts. Access. The right kind of visibility. A fair request—except for one complication.
Adria had never trained an unwilling submissive.
She could break him. Torment him. But train him?
Eric had helped her rework the itinerary, drawing from military tactics and psychological conditioning. A precise strategy designed to dismantle defenses and rebuild compliance. She wasn’t convinced it would work, but she’d try.
Her hand slid across the white binder on her desk, fingers resting on Bryson’s carefully outlined phases. His checklist. His path.
“You don’t owe Callen anything,” Eric said, still in the doorway. “Give the word and I’ll send Bryson to a safe house. When the year’s up, you can auction him off, trained or not. Your reputation will hold. And despite what X thinks, you don’t need new contacts.”
She paused, glancing up. It wasn’t often Eric questioned her, but this was the third time he’d brought it up.
Perhaps he sensed her dark intention and sought to maintain her virtue. Too bad, she lost that a long time ago.
“You think he’s too much for me?” she asked, voice cool.
Eric didn’t answer right away. He chose his words carefully. “The program we laid out will work. But this is different from your normal lot.”
She turned her chair, facing the windows. Morning light spilling across the grounds. Eric shifted behind her, silent but present .
“I know you have…plans,” he said.
She turned, arching an eyebrow. “Suddenly you have a conscience?”
“You know what I mean.” His tone softened. “Some things aren’t worth winning.”
But her whole life was a game, and the only way to stay breathing was to win.
“Proceed as planned.”
Bryson Winters, and the man who made him, had taken the one thing from her that mattered. Now, she was going to make them pay.
Eric didn’t move. “There are…additional complications.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Something you can’t handle?”
He smirked. “No, ma’am. But something I believe you’d prefer to.”
Of course.
Inspecting her reflection in the mirror, she noted the sharp taper of her eyeliner, the bold red of her lips. She smoothed her dark hair with practiced care.
Then, shoulders squared and expression unreadable, left the room.
The click of her four-inch heels echoed down the central staircase. She scanned the front entry, but it was empty.
He must be at the service entrance.
Walking through the kitchen and the back pantry, Adria could feel Eric behind her. She entered a large mud room and stopped.
A hulking man, taking up far more space than the room provided, stood hand outstretched, intending to shake hers. She ignored it, choosing instead to walk straight past him, needing to get a better look at the sight behind.
It was only due to years of training under her father that she was able to enter the room and look at the scene before her without betraying any emotion. Three Winters’ goons held onto three bound young men. Bryson was one of them. All three of them looked rough. Like they had been in a brawl and had lost badly. The right eye of the smaller one was almost swollen shut.
Adria fought to keep her hand steady. “What is the meaning of this?”
The hulking brute gave her a wicked grin. “They needed a little convincing to play nice.”
“Don’t worry, princess, we will be back to our eye-candy self before you know it.”
It was Bryson.
In his condition, Adria was surprised that he could even speak. Grabbing his chin, she turned his head forcefully from side to side. The damage was extensive, cuts and bruising, some fresh, some a few days old. The swelling that marred his once porcelain face took her breath away.
His long lashes fluttered over mud-colored eyes, as he winced at the rough handling.
“I see you haven’t lost your smart mouth,” she said.
He smiled, if she could call it that. His face was so swollen it was hard to tell.
“Yep, turns out I’d rather die than lose it.”
By the looks of him, that was true.
Adria’s heels were sharp against the floor, and she rounded on the leader.
“The agreement was for one.”
“Callen sent three.”
“I understand,” she said, hand on her hip, “but they must be in good condition. It will take months for them to recover.”
The goon scratched his chin. “I’ve seen worse.”
This family was a nightmare.
“That might be, but I require my subs to be in peak physical health. This,” she gestured to the sight beside her, “was not part of the agreement.”
He shrugged. “Mr. Winters said if you are dissatisfied, you can always send them back.”
She pulled out her phone. On the third ring, Callen answered, “Miss Federov, calling to thank me so soon.”
“This wasn’t part of our deal, Callen,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even.
“If the other two don’t suit your particular…needs, then drop them off at the nearest homeless shelter. I could care less.”
Adria ignored the scuffling sounds that went on behind her.
“Dear me, sounds like you already have your hands full. Perhaps three is a little too ambitious, even for you.”
“The number isn’t the problem, Callen.”
“Oh?”
Adria loosened her grip on the phone, urging herself to remain calm. The three of them were hurt. Something had happened to them.
“They are damaged.”
“I do not recall that being a deal breaker.”
She sighed. He was fucking with her. Adria tried a different tactic.
“Bryson is not in the condition I last saw him in.”
“I can assure you no permanent damage was done. You are new to this, so let me give you a bit of advice. Next time you have a particular set of requirements, might I suggest you get them in writing?”
The line went dead.
Motherfucker
She kept her back to the boys, inhaling a steady breath before pivoting to absorb the scene.
The smallest one, with the swollen right eye, was blond with a slight frame. His freckles gave him a boyish look .
His colors marked him as property of the Winters.
The next interloper she recognized as Kaydon Baciu, Bryson’s Right Hand. He had a muscular build that rivaled Eric’s, and his trimmed facial hair made him look older than the others.
Standing in front of the smaller one, she asked him his name. When he didn’t respond, she repeated the question in Romanian. No answer.
This would not work. She didn’t understand why Callen did this, but whatever he was fishing for, she wasn’t biting.
“Little prince charming can stay. Take the other two when you leave.”
As they were pulled away, she heard Bryson say, “You can get more money for all three of us.”
Adria could feel Bryson’s gaze on her back. She turned, crouching down to his eye level. The right side of his neck had the letters ‘BJR’. Below that was ‘GVR’ with a string tied to a snowflake. It was code. The first meant he didn’t owe anyone, and the second showed that he had no other family ties. Rarely, if ever, did a family tie themselves to another of the Nine.
Speaking in a low tone just for him, she said, “Untrained boys have little value to me.”
He spoke back in Romanian, “T hey’re more trained than any of the trash you’ve had. ”
She laughed.
“ Is something funny? ” he asked, eyes cold.
“ Your arrogance amuses me, little prince. ”
He glared at her.
She stood. Still speaking in Romanian, she said, “If your pets are so trainable, prove it to me. ”
Nodding to the two thugs holding them, she said in English, “Release them.”
Like Bryson, their arms were bound behind their backs and when their feet hit the floor she said, “Kneel. ”
“Fuck you,” was the response she got from the smaller one.
Kaydon started to move, but after the outburst stopped, his focus took turns between her and the young blond.
She looked at Bryson.
“ What’s this one’s name? ”
“Seth, listen to her,” Bryson practically growled into the room.
Seth’s reaction was immediate, moving to kneel.
Interesting
“Stop,” Adria’s voice was powerful and filled the room.
Speaking to Bryson, “ They need to follow my command, not yours. ”
Bryson rested his head on the wall behind him. He looked like he was having the worst day of his life. Which, considering the state of his face, was saying something.
Bryson locked eyes with Seth, and Adria recognized the expression at once.
Behave
She said, “Kneel and be still.”
This time, there was no dissent. She moved around each of them, taking her time inspecting every inch. Under the dried blood and bruising, Seth had gray-blue eyes with striking eyelashes. Kaydon had long, messy, sandy-brown hair that complemented his hazel eyes. Under normal circumstances, the pair, trained, would catch her quite the profit. The problem was, she wasn’t sure they were trainable.
Physically, the injuries would need to be addressed first. That would take valuable time. However, training Bryson might prove easier if she had something he wanted, and it was clear he wanted them to stay, although she was unsure why .
Locking eyes with the supposed head goon, she snapped, “Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Move your sorry ass out of my foyer and take your three thugs with you,” she said, her voice crackling into the space between them.
His eyes widened. He didn’t expect her to talk to him so harshly, but Adria was no longer in the mood for pleasantries.
“Suit yourself, lady,” he said before exiting the space.
Adria walked out of the room, where Eric leaned against the counter. His lip twitching as she walked by.
“Told you,” he said.
“Don’t be a smart ass. Give the other two the adjoining bedrooms. Same place as planned for Bryson.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Hours later, Adria sat in her office; instead of one binder on her desk, she now had three. The sun had long since moved from the windows behind her. By now, it would be illuminating the kitchen and dining area. The soft light gave the mostly white rooms an angelic glow. Her phone vibrated, and she knew right away who it was.
X: How is the first day going?
…
What was she supposed to say?
I needed you the last few days, and you weren’t there ?
When she was young and her father was out of town, her mother would wake her up and bring her to the kitchen. She’d dish up a large bowl of ice cream, and they’d sit on the countertops and talk—just the two of them. No staff, no bodyguards, just them. Adria would tell her all the problems her little six-year-old mind could think of. Her mother would always say, “Tomorrow will be better.” And Adria would hold out her spoon and say, “Promise.”
Her mother would smile. It was a smile that would melt even the most frozen of spaces.
Now there were no promises. Every day, she struggled, and she longed for the days when she could just sit with her mother. Where she could tell her a problem and her mother could make it go away with the clink of a spoon.
Sure, she had held her own, created her own empire. But there was no escaping the overwhelming hole in her middle. Every day since her mother’s death had been a variable nightmare, and once Adria had realized she was alive, she knew she would stop at nothing to get her back.
I see you are talking to me now.
X: Don’t be a child, I was busy trying to clean this mess up.
And ?
X: I might have found an interested buyer.
I’ll have no shortage of buyers, I’m sure.
Bryson was not only a pain in the ass, he was a famous pain in the ass. People were going to come out of the woodwork, wanting to own him for a year. She sighed. In the state he was, she was going to have to slap a disclaimer on him.
Purchase at your own risk.
She made money from selling her submissives, but that wasn’t the true value in it. Being part of the Nine meant everyone you met was a criminal. It was a matter of finding out how depraved they were. Her stables were filled with paid stallions only. The people who were buying them knew that. It wasn’t human trafficking; it was a business. The patrons that came to her auctions had money. Enough money they could buy an unwilling submissive for a quarter of the price. But they didn’t. Because they weren’t monsters. That led to Adria meeting a lot of powerful, morally decent people.
And in her world, having the correct contacts was everything.
He didn’t come alone, his Right Hand and another came today.
X: Three ?
Yes, not sure what to do frankly.
X: Keep them. More money.
More leverage.
...
Hadn’t Bryson said something similar? Did people think this entire process took no effort? Just take on more, Adria. You’ll make more. After all, that’s all she cares about, right?
X: My buyer has political pull in Brazil. He might be able to sanction Callen’s newfound land as an archaeological site. It will be useless then.
Interesting.
X: Won’t help our situation but we can stifle his. Just start training. I’ll be in touch .
Finally, a bit of good news. If she could leverage Bryson’s sale to hurt the Winters further, it might not help her mother, but she would feel a hell of a lot better about it. She put her phone in the drawer of her desk. Using the key on her neck, she locked it.