Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
NORTH CAROLINA
A dria’s fingers traced the smooth fabric of her skirt, feeling the soft texture beneath her touch. Gazing at the sturdy oak door frame, the rich wood grain catching her eye. Inhaling deeply, the faint scent of old books and polished wood filled her senses.
The sound of her exhale brought a sense of calm to her racing thoughts.
With each breath, she felt the tension in her chest begin to ease, her heart rate slowing gradually. Giving a nod to Eric, she pressed her hands against her stomach, feeling the comforting warmth of her own touch, as he swung open the heavy doors to her father’s office.
The room was exactly as she remembered it. It was the one room she couldn’t bring herself to change. Ornate furniture filled the space, and large cloth curtains lined the walls. It was the antithesis of the rest of the house. The home behind her had movement and light, the room before her stale and dark. The shadows of memories holding it hostage.
A large L-shape, the room had a stone fireplace as the central focus in the spacious area. Alessandro Grasso, with his stark white hair and deeply lined face, was kneeling near the fire, stoking it. While Sean Cahill was seated on a large leather sofa close to the warmth.
Their arrival was unexpected. The Triune didn’t use text or phone to communicate. Instead, they used dead drops or met in person. Adria was fortunate to never have needed a visit from them before. But now, it seemed her luck had changed.
Taking a few steps into the room, Adria gave a respectful bow.
“Master Cahill and Master Grasso, I’m honored to have you in my home,” she said, staring at the floor.
Alessandro was the leader of the Nine, and Sean was second. The two of them and the Cambell family made up the Triune.
“Thank you, child, please,” Alessandro said, standing and holding out his hand.
Adria moved forward and brought his ring to her lips, kissing it. She had fond memories of Alessandro, starting from her childhood. He had always been nice to her, and she would never forget the words of encouragement he gave her prior to her ascension.
“Eric will fix us some drinks, and we can talk,” Adria said, motioning for Eric.
Alessandro moved towards a large sitting chair and said, “That’s very kind of you, Adria. Jonathan, would you like a drink as well?”
Adria’s entire body froze in place as ice-blue eyes rounded the corner of the fireplace.
“A drink sounds delightful. Thank you,” Jonathan said as he moved about the room like he owned it. “I was admiring your father’s book collection. It hasn’t changed a bit.”
Adria’s heart hammered in her chest, and suddenly the shadows in the room didn’t feel like memories.
Jonathan was here, in this room. Again.
“A vision as always, Miss Federov.” Jonathan’s velvet voice raked over her.
With his back to the group, he wrapped his fingers around her hand and brushed her knuckles with a light kiss.
Her body roiled against the smell of sandalwood and leather.
“You haven’t changed a bit either,” he said, his eyes fixed on her own.
Adria’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
She desperately tried to find her voice but was rendered mute.
Eric’s broad frame pressed in between them, and she felt air hit her lungs.
“Your drink, Mr. Balin,” Eric said.
Jonathan’s eyes darkened, but he took the beverage. Nodding to Eric, Adria watched as Jonathan moved back into the room. With each step away from her, she felt her limbs returning.
Using her newfound locomotion, she found her way to the bar.
“What brings you to North Carolina?” Adria asked, pouring herself a glass of whiskey.
“It’s about the Winters boy,” Sean said behind her, his words carrying the musical cadence of a Cork accent.
Adria downed her first and poured herself another. Drinking that as well, the amber liquid reminding her that Jonathan was wrong.
She had changed.
“He’s here, if you want to talk to him,” she said, feeling the alcohol burn down her throat. At least it was better than the bile that was threatening to come up.
“Some of the families have been talking, and they are uncomfortable with you having Bryson, especially considering the circumstances,” Alessandro said.
The smell of cigar smoke lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of cologne and whiskey. Adria hesitated before slowly pivoting to confront the men in the room. She was met with the sight of Alessandro; he was the very image of a classic crime lord. And Sean, with his commanding presence and distinguished bushy beard, mustache, and sideburns that framed his face, she could sense the palpable aura of authority surrounding him. It was clear that the Irish faction was not to be trifled with.
“Concerns regarding what?” she asked.
Alessandro loosened his tie and said, “Please, Adria, sit down so we can talk.”
It wasn’t a request.
Adria sat on a piece of furniture opposite them.
Sean said, “They’re concerned ye might be makin’ a play fer a family union.”
A sharp laugh escaped Adria’s chest. The stress of the company was clearly cracking her resolve.
“Are you serious? I would rather spend time with anyone else. Please put me out of my misery and take him home,” she said, meaning every word.
If Bryson being here was going to draw the Triune’s attention, they could just take him back. Revenge was sweet, but having the eye of the Triune was the last thing Adria needed.
“Let’s not be hasty,” Alessandro interjected. “Jonathan assures us of your skills in training, and we feel that it might be good for him in the long run.”
Adria’s eyes drifted over to Jonathan’s form. His slicked black hair and trimmed facial hair sat dutifully at Alessandro’s side. He did nothing altruistically. If Jonathan was involved in this, there was something in it for him.
“He’s a good boy, and he has his uses, but a firm hand wouldn’t be the worst thing for him,” Alessandro continued.
“Do you want me to train him, or are you worried we are going to fall in love? Because I’m having trouble keeping up,” she said.
“Well, that’s jus’ it, Adria, ye said yerself ya despise the boy. Why, then, offer him in the deal?” Sean asked, his expression hard.
Adria was on dangerous ground. The Triune were treated like gods, but they didn’t know everything. Callen, like her, would have gone to great lengths to keep her land a secret. The fact that Bryson was involved in the deal couldn’t be hidden, but the reason for the sale, that was still unknown to them.
Power exchanges were common, but an open bid to steal a seat at the table? That was practically a declaration of war.
People in power didn’t like to lose it.
Adria didn’t want to admit what she had been planning; any more than Callen would want to show his cards now. That land had the power to overthrow the players at the table, and Adria wasn’t about to confess her involvement.
The three men waited for her response, and Adria gave them the truest statement she could muster. “I like a challenge.”
Alessandro turned to Sean. “I told you, just like her father.”
Adria’s fingers curled on the edge of the glass, and she ground her teeth together.
Sean did not seem impressed. Rolling his cuff links, he spoke to Adria, slow and soft, as if she were a child that wouldn’t understand. “With the Winters bein’ fourth in line, I speak fer all the families when I say we all want a smooth ascension fer Bryson. Some o’ us feel ye are the right person fer the job, an’ others…Let’s say are havin’ trouble trustin’ yer motives.”
Adria moved to say something, but Alessandro waved a hand, cutting her off .
“We believe you, of course. But since the matter has been brought to our attention, we need to give you parameters. Guiding lines that will make everyone more comfortable.”
Sean continued, “First o’ which is the stipulation that ye train Bryson successfully.”
“Nothing in my contract with Callen speaks about performance metrics,” Adria said, her mind reeling.
“Ye asked fer him as part o’ yer deal with Callen. If ye can’t train him, I ask again, why offer it?” Sean said, standing. “If ye are unable to provide this simple stipulation, then I’m back to believin’ that ye either have feelin’s fer the boy, or worse, are deliberately tryin’ to harm him. Both o’ which could be considered treason.”
“Easy, Sean,” Alessandro said. “Adria, no one is asking for a miracle. Just ensure there are marked improvements on auction day. For as many men as you have broken, I think you will have little issue with someone as weak-minded as Bryson.”
Like Adria, these men were born into their roles, but unlike Adria, they didn’t have to claw out a path for themselves. Instead, their paths were laid at their feet. Carl Jung said, “If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s.”
They didn’t need cunning, intelligence, or even common sense to get where they were. And they were idiots if they thought Bryson was weak-minded.
Adria had only spent a few weeks with him, and already she could see how much smarter he was than his father. Far more dangerous, too.
She was better, that she was sure, but he was not weak by any stretch of the imagination. With the Triune watching, breaking him would quite literally be the fight of her life.
“He’ll be trained,” she bit out, not seeing a way out of the matter .
“Excellent,” Alessandro said. “That makes the rest of the stipulations easier.”
Alessandro leaned into her father’s sofa, sipping his drink. “If we deem the auction successful, your tithes will be waved for the upcoming two assemblies. Consider it a generous bonus and gratitude on our part.”
Every two years, the families met during the Mar’s opposition. Each of their tithe were decided during the summit. It was a contribution to the collective. It could be anything from murder to money to political sway, but either way, Adria would be glad to be rid of it. The Triune’s opinion on how you delivered your tithe decided if you went up or down at the table. This way, she was guaranteed her fifth spot for four more years.
“Fail to perform, or try to double-cross us in any way—” Alessandro said.
Sean interrupted, “If ye try to keep the young heir or sell him to a close friend, trust me when I say we will know.”
“I won’t be keeping them,” Adria said firmly.
Alessandro moved near her. “Adria, it doesn’t give me any pleasure to do this, but we have come all this way, and I feel it is important for you to understand the gravity of your choices.”
“Allow me, Master Grasso,” Jonathan said.
Alessandro brightened at Jonathan’s offer to help. He patted Adria’s knee and gave her a soft smile. “Thank you, Jonathan. While necessary, I don’t get any pleasure in threatening my fellow family members.”
Alessandro made his way to the bar, and Jonathan took his place, sitting next to Adria.
At his proximity, Adria’s spine grew straight, and she focused on breathing.
“A union between families is not against the rules, however, it needs to be sanctioned. Any ill-intentioned form of manipulation or attempts on your part to form an unsanctioned union will be met by swift actions of the Triune.” Jonathan’s blue eyes pinned her in place, and for a moment the rest of the room faded away, and it was just her and him.
Alone.
“We want to remind you that your life is not the only life on the line, but that your mother is still very much reachable, should your actions prove to be dishonorable,” Jonathan said, reaching his hand out to brush a stray hair out of her face.
Such a bad girl getting Daddy’s attention like that.
Jonathan’s touch caused the memory to spring to the forefront of her mind.
Adria hated how weak and alone she felt. Jonathan was right, she hadn’t changed.
Alessandro clapped his hands, and Adria snapped to attention. She needed to get out of here before more memories came to life.
“Now that the unpleasantness is out of the way. Why don’t we have some fun,” Alessandro said.
Adria cleared her throat, gaining the room’s attention. “I’m sorry to call this little party short, but as it has been made perfectly clear what is at stake, I think it would be prudent for me to get back to my charges.”
Sean gave her a dry smile, and Alessandro brought her in for an embrace. Releasing her, he held her at arm’s length and said the words she never wanted to hear.
“Your father would be proud of you.”