Page 11 of Bound By Her

Opening the envelope, Adria read:

Dear Miss Federov,

Callen Winters has requested an audience with you. Please respond within the required five-day period. Note that the Triune has reviewed this request and has decided that this is a non-negotiable meeting.

Should you have any questions, please feel free to reach out. You have my number.

Sincerely,

Jonathan.

JR NER GUR SRNE, JR NER GUR GNEXARFF

The Triune were the top three families in the Nine and head of the council. A secret society that Adria’s family had been a part of for generations. Nothing of importance happened in the world without the Nine’s involvement. A political figure killed, media spin campaign, shortage of medical supplies, if it was loud, odds were the Nine were involved.

Adria’s fingers curled around the paper, crumpling it. When the Triune gave an order, it was paramount to God himself. Jonathan had once been her father’s Right Hand and after Ivan’s death he became the mouthpiece for the Triune.

The fact that the council were ordering her to meet with the Winters family should have been unnerving, but in fact it was the idea that Jonathan was within a ten-mile radius of her home that had her insides turning. Callen, she could handle. Jonathan was another story.

And just when she thought this day couldn’t get any worse.

CHAPTER 3

CHICAGO

Adria’s hotel room had a large window that overlooked Millennium Park. She had spent her morning watching the tourists explore the area’s extensive architecture and art installations.

If this trip were for pleasure, she might have been among them—snapping photos of bronze figures or sampling local cuisine. The city was overflowing with distractions: glossy storefronts, hidden alleys, rooftop cocktails. But Adria Federov didn’t take trips for leisure. Not as the head of one of the Nine.

Her presence in Chicago had been requested by Callen Winters himself—a man she trusted as far as she could throw him. He was a fellow family head and her longtime rival.

The Triune had insisted she take the meeting. And she’d spent the entire flight trying to unravel why.

Callen had been close with her father, Ivan, before his death nearly two decades ago. Back then, the Federovs held the fourth seat at the table. But when Ivan died, Adria was young—too young—and Callen had wasted no time recommending her demotion. The Triune agreed.

Andso, her seat went from fourth to ninth.

At the table, ninth wasn’t just weak. It was vulnerable. It was a seat you didn’t survive in long. Unless you made yourself indispensable.

So, she did.

Her first assignment had been straightforward: deliver leverage on high-value targets. Adria excelled. Secrets were a currency, and she quickly proved herself the best collector of them. Her second task was more delicate. Brokering peace between two warring politicians and securing a deal the Triune wanted passed.

With every win, she clawed her way back up the hierarchy.

Now, she sat in the fifth seat. Just one rank below the position her father once held.

And Callen Winters—of course—was the one sitting in her way.

Which is why his invitation didn’t make sense. He was her senior. If anything, she should be the one asking for a meeting. But Adria had always kept her distance from the other families, limiting interactions to the Mar’s Opposition—the Nine’s required biannual summit.

She’d never aspired to be one of them. Power wasn’t her endgame. It was penance. The price of sharing her father’s blood.

But now that she had it, she understood the truth.

Power wasn’t something you reached for. It was something you bled for.

And once you had it?—

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