Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
NORTH CAROLINA
A dria looked across the grounds, scowling. Spring had started, and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. The delicate pink petals danced in the gentle breeze, their sweet fragrance lingering in the air.
The vibrant blooms were mocking her, their presence a constant reminder of time moving. Each change felt like a ticking clock. A countdown. A relentless reminder of the Triune’s expectations.
A vibration in her pocket and Adria pulled her phone out.
X: My buyer wants to meet.
Adria glanced at the text, the tightness in her chest increasing.
I’m a little busy at the moment .
X: Make time.
The third month of training was fast approaching, but in Adria’s opinion the boys were nowhere near where they should be. She had followed Eric’s recommendations. A military-like training, designed to mimic boot camp, minus the yelling.
He emphasized the importance of having a strict routine, mentioning that it would serve as their best ally. From sunrise to sunset, each boy had specific tasks to complete. Their belongings and clothes were taken away, and they were given two pairs of pants and three pairs of gray sweats.
Eric insisted it would help them settle and increase the odds of them obeying orders. But Adria wasn’t seeing the progress she needed. With traditional submissives, the first months were an important opportunity to set the tone. A time for both parties to establish boundaries and expectations. With these three, boundaries and tone were out the window. And yet, still, she had trouble training them.
I’ll get back to you with a time.
Adria stepped into the back foyer and stilled.
A soft humming drifted through the space beyond.
Kaydon.
Rounding the corner, she deliberately clicked her heels against the tile to announce her presence .
He paused mid-movement, glancing at her before raking his gaze up and down her frame. Then, his lips curled into a sinful grin.
“Hey, boss.”
Kaydon had adjusted to the routine better than the other two. It wasn’t submission—not by any stretch. But he was smart enough to go with the flow rather than fight it.
She could only hope his willingness to play along would rub off on his so-called brothers.
“You’re up early,” she remarked, lifting her purple mug to her lips for a sip of tea.
“Inceputul e anevoie, urma vine de la sine,” he said in that dangerously smooth Romanian accent.
A good beginning makes for a good ending.
Something about him put her at ease when it shouldn’t. His blatant flirting should have annoyed her, but instead, she found herself lingering.
That was a problem.
She watched as he made a show of opening and shutting the door, exaggerated as if to entertain himself.
No squeak.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Your back door was tight,” Kaydon said casually.
His grin stretched, waiting for her reaction.
And she refused to give him one.
When she didn’t rise to the bait, he shrugged. “Gotta fix what’s broken first.”
Unbidden, a memory surged forward.
Her mother—dark hair, copper skin, sunlight glowing behind her.
“Many hands make light work,” she had said once, smiling as she helped Adria clean up a spill in this very room.
The weight of it pressed into her ribs, her stomach twisting under the sudden emotion .
Adria flattened her palm against her middle, steadying herself, forcing it back down.
“Can I give you some advice?” Kaydon’s voice pulled her from the past.
She didn’t answer, but he continued anyway.
“With Seth, this chess thing isn’t gonna work.” He ran his fingers along the door hinges, testing the metal, his hands large and deft.
She found herself watching them, the way they pressed into the grooves, the way his fingertips traced the edge as if memorizing it.
“What do you mean?” she asked, arms crossing defensively.
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s a good idea. Make him feel small by beating him over and over. Break’ em down before you build’ em up.” Kaydon shrugged. “Standard play. But it’s not gonna work with Seth.”
“That’s not?—”
Adria stopped herself.
She wanted to dismiss him. Tell him to keep his opinions to himself.
But the truth was, he was right.
She had been trying to break Seth down. And it hadn’t been working.
Her throat tightened.
“What would work better?” she forced herself to ask.
Kaydon met her gaze, his hazel eyes softening.
“Show him you care.”
Something in her locked up.
She searched his face, expecting some trace of insincerity, some smug glint in his eye.
But there was none.
Kaydon Baciu was one of the most peculiar individuals she had ever met.
She wasn’t sure what shocked her more—that he felt comfortable enough to say that to her …
Or that he thought she was capable of it.
She knew what the families called her.
Ice Queen.
A fitting name. She had never taken a lover. She trained male sex slaves as currency, her reputation in the underworld built on discipline and control.
The kind of woman that didn’t care.
Kaydon stepped toward her, slow and deliberate, the weight of his presence filling the space between them.
Adria’s pulse jumped.
Her fingers twitched toward her wristwatch. The cool metal against her skin was a silent promise—one press, and Eric would be there.
Kaydon noticed .
He stopped.
Didn’t smirk. Didn’t tease. Just leaned against the wall instead, arms crossing lazily over his broad chest.
His sharp eyes flicked down to her watch before lifting back to hers, his mouth curving in amusement.
“You’re supposed to be the big bad wolf,” he mused, voice low, smooth as sin.
The air thickened between them.
“But I haven’t seen any huffing and puffing.”
Adria’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t just flirting. He was baiting her.
Her fingers itched. She wanted to command him to kneel. Wanted to run her fingers through his hair. Feel his muscles tense as she trailed her nails along his torso. But she wasn’t doing what she wanted to do. Not with the stakes this high. She was following Eric’s program. And for now, she was sticking to it.
“ Eric will be watching today. Bryson needs to do his own chores, understood?” she said.
Disappointment flashed on his face. But when she didn’t give him more, he said, “Sure thing, boss.”
“This is stupid,” Seth said, throwing his king across the room. “Why do you keep making me do this?”
“Pick it up,” Adria said, her tone hard.
Seth eyed her. His gaze leaving little to the imagination. He hated her.
“You think beating me in chess proves anything?”
Adria repeated, “Pick it up, or I will prove something to you.”
Seth’s chair scraped against the floor as he moved from the table, getting the king.
He deliberately set the chess piece on the table and accompanied it with a low bow of his head.
“Just so there aren’t any misunderstandings of what I want you to prove ,” he said with a sarcastic flourish.
Things were moving painfully slow.
Slow was an understatement. They were over three months in.
They followed her rules, but only because they wanted to stay together, and that card would only take her so far. And it sure as hell wouldn’t help her at the auction. Adria tried like hell to push the image of the Triune watching her present the three. There were so many things Bryson could do that could get her or her mother killed.
Eric said this was the way, and she trusted him. But her gut said something wasn’t right. Things were not adding up; something didn’t fit.
Kaydon’s words kept creeping into her mind.
Show him you care.
He had said it so simply. Like caring was the easiest thing in the world.
No .
He said it like he thought caring was the easiest thing in the world for her?
What had she done to deserve that perception from him?
“Dominant Strategy,” Adria said.
Seth raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a game theory. A strategy that outperforms, no matter what your opponent does. When I move here—” she pointed to her bishop, “you have only two options, both result in a poor position for you.”
She watched Seth take in the board. Gears turning in his head, his pink lips parting.
Moving, Adria selected a book from the shelves behind her.
“Here, read this. Tomorrow, you play me for real.”
The next few days, Adria saw Seth’s frustrations grow as he continued to lose.
She clicked her tongue. “Good game. Maybe tomorrow you’ll get the hang of it.”
“Again,” Seth said, staying in his seat.
“No,” she said.
“No?” His eyes held fire.
Seth shot to his feet, fury radiating off him in waves. With a violent motion, he flipped the chess table, sending wooden pieces clattering across the floor.
Adria didn’t flinch.
She watched.
It had taken weeks to finally provoke this reaction from him. For all the research labeling Seth as a loose cannon , he had remained maddeningly restrained. Controlled, even. Until now.
“This is so fucked up,” he spat. His chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. “You keep making me play you.”
“Making you?” Adria tilted her head. “You’re the one asking to play again.”
She rose slowly from her chair.
Across from her, he seethed.
Her fingers grazed her wrist, the faintest reminder of Eric’s warning. Be careful. Seth at his edge was unpredictable.
But she saw it now—saw through it.
The way his fists clenched, his shoulders locked, his body vibrating with tension.
Beneath the rage, there was anguish.
Raw. Barely contained.
And what struck her the most was that he wasn’t even trying to hide it.
How many people had actually noticed? she wondered. How many have stayed long enough to see?
She took a step forward.
“Don’t,” he warned, voice thick with emotion.
She ignored him.
Another step.
He held his ground, his icy-blue eyes boring into her, daring her to move closer.
She placed a hand on his chest.
His muscles tightening beneath her palm, every fiber of his body primed to resist—but he didn’t.
His heartbeat was wild.
He parted his lips, about to speak, but nothing came out.
Adria pressed harder.
Seth stepped back.
She advanced. Another step. And another. Until his back hit the bookshelf behind him.
His breathing was uneven, his fingers twitching at his sides .
He fidgeted.
“Stand still.”
“Fuck you,” he bit out, but her heart skipped when he obeyed.
The air crackled between them.
Every plan she’d had vanished.
She was supposed to berate him. To make him feel like a failure. Weeks of chess and he hadn’t beaten her once.
But—
Show him that you care.
And for some fucked-up reason, she did.
Seth was in pain.
And she cared .
“Open your mouth.”
He exhaled sharply, a tremor of defiance flickering across his features. “Fuck you.”
But the words lacked fire.
Lacked conviction.
She matched his whisper, but hers carried weight.
“Open your mouth.”
A war raged behind his eyes.
Adria could see the moment he gave in.
His pink lips parting and satisfaction curled in her chest. But she didn’t let it show. Not yet. Instead, she traced her thumb along his bottom lip, feeling the heat of his breath against her skin.
Then she pressed inside.
Capturing his tongue.
Pushing down.
Seth inhaled sharply, his pupils dilating, his body thrumming beneath her touch.
Adria stepped in closer, crowding him.
“Why do you think so little of yourself?” she asked, her voice steady, unshaken.
His breath hitched .
His legs buckled.
And then?—
He sank.
Down.
To his knees.
His breathing quickened, warm and uneven against her wrist.
She didn’t stop him.
Didn’t release him.
“I started playing chess with you because I knew I could win,” she murmured, watching his pupils blow wide.
“I kept playing because I wanted to rile you up. To throw you off your game.”
Saliva gathered in his mouth, and he swallowed thickly. His eyes watered, desperate, locked onto hers.
“But we are going to keep playing,” she said, pressing her thumb down once more, just enough to remind him that she was in control.
“Not because I enjoy watching you fail?—”
She leaned in, her voice a whisper against his lips.
“—but because I know you can win.”
Seth shuddered.
Adria knew that pain in his eyes.
Knew exactly how to fix it.
“Beat me,” she said softly.
“And we can play some more.”
Then—finally—she let him go.