Page 137 of Bound By Her

He hated Adria.

Despised her.

But—she had never done this to them. His brothers had enjoyed their time with her.

And now, watching Jonathan’s bony fingers dig into Kaydon’s neck. The reality slammed into Bryson with the force of a gunshot. This could be their fate for the next year.

When Luca had died, their father had openly wept at the funeral. Tears had streamed down his face during the eulogy.

For Bryson, there would be no tears.

His father had signed him up for this. Thrown him away like a bad bet.

And hadn’t looked back.

Jonathan nodded once—and the whip cracked.

Kaydon convulsed.

Blood splattering across his back, painting his pale skin in jagged streaks. Bryson’s body twitched, his instinct screaming to move—but he couldn’t.

The Glock at his head ensured that. Would a bullet to his head help Kaydon?

Would his death keep his brothers safe?

Bryson had spent the last few months under the illusion—the delusion—that he had control.

That he could win.

Now, reality was crystal fucking clear.

He had never been in control.

Not for a single second.

The whip began its descent.

Bryson’s body vibrated. He couldn’t stay still. Not for another second. But instead of a crack—there was a thud.

Bryson blinked through his blurred vision, barely comprehending what had just happened.

Adria.

She stood beside Kaydon, her outstretched fist clenching around the whip’s tendril.

The leather wrapping around her fingers like a venomous snake, its bite cutting deep into her skin. Blood welled, slipping down her wrist.

But she didn’t flinch.

Didn’t acknowledge the pain.

She just stood there—stoic, solid, and utterly unshaken.

Bryson had never been so happy to see anyone in his entire life.

A stunned silence settled over the room.

“What exactly is going on here?” she said. As usual, her voice commanded attention.

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