Page 233 of Bound By Her

Bryson’s words from this morning haunted her.

Whatever the future holds, I want it to include you.

She fought to push it out of her mind. Maybe theywouldcome back after their year as submissives. She couldn’t control that. What she needed to do was focus on what shecouldcontrol.

Today.

“Diana, so glad you could make it,” Adria said, taking the sharp blonde’s hand.

“Adam, how nice to see you,” she waved, passing by.

The room was full of people. Normally she invited twenty to thirty potential buyers, but tonight there would be well over a hundred.

Adria said her hellos and introduced herself to the new players. The first hour of the evening was for socialization, hors d’oeuvres and drinks. This was followed by the unveiling, where the boys would be officially introduced as auction items. Dinner and a demonstration would round out the evening’s festivities.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and the scent of sandalwood caused her body to freeze.

The removal of Jonathan’s hand was immediate, but it didn’t stop the chill that ran along her back. Eric had hired a private security detail, assigning two plainclothes to tail her the entire party.

No words were exchanged, but the security guards disappeared into the crowd when Jonathan took a step back.

“What an event you have put on, Adria,” Jonathan said.

“Thank you,” she replied tersely.

Alessandro and the rest of the Triune had sent their regrets. Of course they wouldn’t want to attend, too many new faces, too many unknowns. Jonathan was here as the families’ liaison. But tonight, security was under strict instructions to ensure his exit at the end of the event. Adria hated having him here, but, unfortunately, he was necessary.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior last time,” he said smoothly. “I believe my temper got the better of me.”

Adria didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

But when Jonathan adjusted his tie, she caught sight of the purple scar inside his palm, the one Seth had carved into him.

A flicker of smug satisfaction warmed her chest.

“You beguile me, Adria,” he went on, mistaking her stillness. “I can’t get you out of my head. I wonder if we might share a drink? Bury the proverbial hatchet.”

There wasn’t a word vile enough to capture her loathing.

Truthfully, she thought so little of him now, he barely qualified as a person in her mind.

He wasn’t worth a heartbeat.

Not a breath.

Looking him straight in the eye, she said, voice calm and resolute, “I would rather die.”

She turned.

His hand reached out. “I love you, prin?—”

She flinched at the nickname, but he didn’t finish it.

Because someone had stepped between them.

A dark figure now stood in the space where she had been. And when she glanced past them, she realized her bodyguards were still at their posts, a few paces away.

Adria stepped forward, her stomach twisting as she recognized the way the figure was angled, subtly shielding them from view. And that wasn’t a hand in Jonathan’s chest.

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