Page 12 of Bound By Her

You had to hold on with both hands.

Adria’s phone vibrated on the desk.

X: Ready for today’s meeting?

She gave one last glance out the window before turning her attention to the phone.

I don’t care what he offers me, there is nothing in the world that would entice me to work with him.

The Winters’ family animal was the lynx. Cunning, deadly, they hunted in the shadows. People knew them for their dubious dealings, and their heir, Bryson, had a reputation for sending over-the-top messages.

X: Don’t be so hasty. Think about your options and try to see where you can gain the upper hand.

She sighed and set the phone down.

X always had ideas. Thoughts on ways Adria could better align herself with the other families. He didn’t approve of the distance she kept from them.

When he first contacted her, a year or so after her father’s death, she hadn’t trusted him. Not even close.

But she had been eighteen, floundering under the weight of an empire she wasn’t ready to rule. Ninth at the table. One wrong move from being wiped off it entirely.

And still, in the dark and through only text messages, X had shown up when no one else did.

Over the years, his intel proved solid. Always one step ahead. Always with the answers she needed, just before she needed them. He claimed to be an “interested party”—someone who knew the Nine well and, like her, believed they had strayed from their original purpose.

That they served power now, not the people.

Adria didn’t know who he was, or what he ultimately wanted. But a decade ago, when he found information on her mother’s location, it stopped mattering. Their relationship was solidified. X kept tabs on her mother, and Adria helped him when she could.

Her phone buzzed.

X: Promise me you will keep an open mind?

She started to type:How is she?

But deleted the words before they could take shape.

Adria hadn’t seen her mother since she was six. But she wasn’t a little girl. She was the head of an international shadow organization, who just really needed a strong cup of tea.

A beep from the door panel broke her spiral, followed by a knock.

“Ma’am,” Eric’s voice called gently through the door.

“You can come in,” she said.

He stepped inside, filling the narrow entry with his broad frame. He wore a nondescript blazer, black pants, and the familiar stoicism that made her feel oddly grounded. In his hand was a large to-go cup.

Adria took it without hesitation. The warmth seeping into her fingers, loosening something in her chest. The mug wasn’t hers—but right now that didn’t matter. Her shoulders relaxed, if only slightly.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she said, flashing him a rare smile.

Eric gave a slight nod, but his eyes drifted toward the neatly made bed. Scratching at his salt-and-pepper beard, he leaned a shoulder against the wall.

Adria followed his gaze. The covers were perfectly in place. Not a wrinkle.

“Ma’am…did you sleep?” he asked, the soft drawl in his voice wrapping around the words.

“A little,” she lied, moving toward the bathroom.

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