Page 20 of Bound By Her

“The point is—three boys, no control, no way to steer…” he said.

Her phone buzzed. She jumped.

Eric glanced at her in the mirror.

It was a message from X.

X: How did it go?

She tapped the phone against her knee, unsure what to say.

Years ago, X had sent her an encrypted file. The recording was short. Just a few seconds of her mother’s voice:

“I’m proud of you, honey. You looked so grown up at graduation. That gold dress, stunning. I’m sorry I missed it.”

The congratulations were almost ten years too late and yet, Adria had listened to it hundreds of times. The audio was poor, distant. But it was her. Her mother.

X had earned her loyalty that day.

Later, he brought up the land. Fifteen miles upriver from the Santarém Port, a quiet stretch of jungle with a forgotten runway and untapped potential.

The port had exploded in traffic, moving five million tons a year. With the right infrastructure, her land could be the most valuable smuggler hub in northern South America.

It was her way in. Her bargaining chip. Her chance to rise in rank with the Nine. And her only shot at getting her mother back.

And now it was gone.

Worse than gone. It was in Callen Winters’ hands.

The Nine claimed to be noble. Protectors of balance. But they were monsters. Every last one. Including her.

If she could save her mother, if she could undo just one thing, maybe she could die a monster knowing she’d doneonething right. The Federov line, owed the world that much.

Tears blurred her vision, and she blinked them away.

“We floated safer and faster when we let the river take us,” Eric said gently.

Their eyes met in the mirror. His sadness mirroring her own, and it gutted her.

The French Country estate rose up in the windshield. Normally it brought her comfort. Now, it just looked like a monument to everything she couldn’t save.

Eric parked, but she didn’t move. If she stayed in the car, maybe none of it would be real.

“Want me to drive you to the club?” he asked softly.

She shook her head.

“Miss…” he tried again. “Maybe if you walked me through your thoughts, we could find a way. Someone we can call.”

She rubbed her face. There was no one to call.

Callen wanted her to take his son. Sell him. Break him.

Fine.

He’d called her bluff, whether he knew it or not. And she would own her part in how it unfolded.

But she’d make sure Callen paid for every ounce of pain she felt—in blood.

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