Chapter 1
The sound of water dripping echoed in the cavern, and smooth stone walls greeted Adria with every turn.
The Nine met once every two years during the Mars Opposition.
A time when the Earth sat directly between the Sun and Mars.
The celestial event stood for a period of increased energy.
An occasion when balancing opposing forces was needed.
For over five hundred years, the Nine had met in this cavern and discussed just that. What needed to be done to maintain balance.
However, Adria had noticed that recently it had been less about balance and more about power.
Under her father’s reign and her own, the top three families, known as the Triune, spent more time shoring up their interests than addressing the world’s needs.
As Adria entered the expansive stone hallow, Alessandro’s warm smile greeted her. She gave him a low bow and scanned the rest of the space. Helen Cambell was there, along with her heir, Bly. Sean Cahill was nearby, having an animated conversation with his Right Hand, Dónal.
The rest of the families—the Singh, the Triads, the Lovetts, and Ndrangheta—were all scheduled to arrive after her.
Callen was there, already seated at the table. Adria couldn’t help but notice the empty space next to him.
Bryson should have been sitting there. Adria tried to keep her mask in place, tried not to let her gaze linger on the empty chair for too long.
“Adria, I was so happy to hear about the auction’s success,” Helen Cambell said.
Helen had a powerful presence, long blonde hair and striking blue eyes. In the early days, Adria had mistrusted the woman, but as time went on, Adria saw the vulnerability beneath her confidence and the quiet kindness in her actions.
Adria turned, taking the woman’s hand, and kissed the five-petaled ring Helen wore on her right hand.
“I am just grateful to live up to the Triune’s standards,” Adria said.
“To be honest, we didn’t think you had it in you,” Sean said over Helen’s shoulder. Voice lowered, he said, “But we are all thankful that you were able to crack him.”
Adria noticed his eyes didn’t leave Callen’s direction.
“She is the best,” Helen said. “I hope we are able to remember that the next time her reputation is called into question.”
The words of affirmation drew Adria’s gaze.
“Thank you, Helen,” she said, inclining her head.
Sean said, “Well now, Jonathan’s sure changing his tune, isn’t he? Less than a year ago he wouldn’t stop going on about it, and now—not a word out of him.”
Adria glanced around the space, catching Jonathan’s form.
After she had sold Bryson, Seth, and Kaydon two months ago, she had gotten to work shutting down the underage brothel Jonathan frequented in Chicago. The few weeks it had taken were a welcome distraction from their absence.
Her contacts assured her Jonathan hadn’t left his house except to attend family business. And although Adria was sure she would kill him, she didn’t want to do anything until the boys were home safe.
Home safe.
Adria forced herself not to think about it. If Bryson and his brothers wanted to see her, they knew where to find her.
Excusing herself, she moved to the pool’s edge and knelt down, dipping her fingers into the dark waters.
Her father’s golden ring caught the dim light as it hovered just above the surface.
The metal pressed against her skin; it felt just as unyielding as the frigid waters.
Adria drew her wet fingertips to her forehead, leaving a cool blessing against her skin.
“We are the darkness behind the light,” she whispered to herself, before standing.
Etched on the walls behind the pool were the family’s marks. Adria’s eyes moved to her family’s ram. Etched into the wall just under the Lovetts family’s Celtic knot and only a few marks away from Callen Winters’ symbol.
The intricate snowflake carving showed that it was as much for show as it was calculated. The Winters were known for being more than meets the eye, and the Federovs had a reputation for gaining holds and never letting go.
Markings upon the cavern wall revealed the number of families throughout the span of generations. Adria wondered, who might mark these walls after ten years?
One hundred?
What would the world look like long after they were gone?
Eric stood at the far end of the cavern talking with Diarmuid. Adria noticed the dark ink shining on the right side of Diarmuid’s neck.
Brass knuckles.
It seemed Sean had solidified his decision to mark Diarmuid as his Vice Regent or second in command. Many of the families leaned on heirs to seed their dynasty, but others, in lieu of an heir, marked a successor.
Adria watched as the two spoke casually to one another.
Eric was the taller of the two, and his tight black shirt strained against his muscles.
He wore the same finger-length haircut that he had ten years ago.
Shaved on one side, Eric quaffed it to the left.
Adria watched as his salt-and-pepper beard broke out into a broad grin and he laughed at something Diarmuid said.
She envied Eric’s ability to be friendly yet strong.
No one questioned his motives or abilities.
Adria didn’t know if that was because he was a man, or if it was just his personality.
When she had first hired him, Adria thought he would be like all the rest. A string of bodyguards that she kept on for only a year.
It was simpler that way. Fewer attachments.
But Eric was different.
She fought it. Denied it. And when she agreed to let him stay on for an additional year, she told herself that was the last one. But two years turned into three, and three turned into...a brand.
One thing Adria knew was that branding him with her winged sigil was the best decision she had ever made. Now over ten years together and she couldn’t imagine her life without his counsel and friendship.
Not wanting to be near Callen for longer than necessary, Adria stalled on taking her seat. Choosing instead to wander the cavern, saying her hellos and pretending to be interested in the chamber’s artistic features. On the far wall was an etching in the Nine’s cypher.
N zna’f yrtnpl vf qrgrezvarq ol ubj gur fgbel raqf.
Under the cypher were some additional symbols that Adria didn’t recognize.
She stared at the inscription for a while until, eventually, all the families had arrived.
“Dri, I heard the auction went well. I trust my son is in excellent hands,” Callen said when she sat next to him.
She wanted to say, better hands than yours.
But instead, she said, “They will be well taken care of.”
The smile he hit her with had her shifting in her seat uncomfortably.
Her gaze swept across the table, taking in the families.
Alessandro sat at the head, Sean and then Helen.
Callen sat on her right, and Ram Singh sat to her left.
Beside Ram were Lin Sun and then Finley Lovetts and her heir Ayden.
Ayden was celebrating her nineteenth year of life in this Opposition, and Adria admired the strength she exuded.
No doubt her mother’s doing. The woman was terrifying.
Where Helen’s power came from a quiet calm, Finley’s power simmered around her like boiling water.
When Andres Zuma and his heir took their seats, the table was complete, and Alessandro addressed the Nine.
“Welcome to this year’s summit. It is with great pleasure that I welcome each of you back into the fold.”
Alessandro was head of the Triune, meaning he sat in the number one seat. He also happened to be the only family at the table that was one of the originals. One of the nine families that had founded the Nine.
“Masters of the Veil, Keepers of the Hidden Order, and Seekers of the Balance, we gather here tonight, not just as individuals, but as the living embodiment of a legacy that spans hundreds of years. Over five hundred cycles of silence, of shadows, of wisdom, have been passed down through whispered words and unseen deeds. We are the ones who have walked in the dark so that others may never know its true power. We are the guardians of a delicate balance—a balance that ensures the scales of power tip neither too far in favor of the light nor the dark, but remains always in equilibrium.”
Alessandro’s Right Hand carried a large tome to the table, and Alessandro flipped to the opening passage.
“In the Year of the Hidden Eclipse, the first of the Nine found this ancient site.
Under the watchful eye of the Sun and upon the sentinel of Mars, we gather here as keepers of the veil.
We are the Silent Ones, the Watchers of the Balance, the Hidden Order who, from the first dawn of our covenant, have vowed to guard against the rise of unchecked power.
“It is known to us that power is a mighty force, as old as the Earth and as fleeting as the stars. It is a thing of great temptation, one that drives men to madness, to betrayal, to the unraveling of all that is just and true. For when power is unbalanced, when it rests too long in the hands of the few or the one, it brings ruin to all. And so, we were called, the first of our Order, to keep the scales steady, to ensure that no hand, no kingdom, no soul would hold dominion over the wheel of fate for too long.”
Adria had heard the benediction so many times she practically could have recited it alongside Alessandro. Everyone in attendance knew the legends. Everyone understood the rules. The Nine stood against imbalance, and the Triune decided what needed pruning and what needed watering.
Helen stood next. “Years ago, in the shadow of sun, we bound ourselves in an oath—written in blood, sealed in silence—that the Balance would never falter, and that in all things, we would remain unseen.
In the shadows, we move; in the quiet, we strike; in the darkness, we are the hand that holds the scales.