Shit.
Tearing my eyes from the trembling, angry woman before me, I muttered, “Cut, let me—”
Punish her.
Fuck her.
Ruin her in my own way.
Anything to stop you from touching what’s mine.
My father pursed his lips, pointing at the doors. “Out. I won’t ask again.”
The Diamond brothers stood up, their chairs sliding over thick carpet, before disappearing out the door in creaking leather and boots.
Daniel, Kes, and I didn’t move.
Nila stood locked in place.
Cut raised his eyebrow. “I believe I just gave an order?”
“What? All of us?” Kestrel asked, disbelief in his voice.
Cut didn’t reply, only glowered until the power of his rank, and the fact he was not only our father but our president, overrode our rebellion.
My brothers stood.
I gritted my teeth as Kes placed a hand on Nila’s shoulder, sharing a look with her that made my stomach fucking shake off any pretence of ice and go nuclear with fury.
Nila smiled softly, standing and moving toward the exit.
“Not you, Ms. Weaver. You and I are going to have a little chat,” Cut said quietly.
Nila closed her eyes briefly, blocking her panic. When she opened them again, all that remained was reckless confidence.
I wanted to say something, but my tongue tied into a useless piece of meat.
“Out, Jethro. I won’t ask again.”
Nodding once at my father, I moved stiffly. Nila refused to meet my eyes as I stalked out of the room, following my two siblings.
The last thing I heard as the doors closed was my father’s voice. “Now that we’re alone, my dear, I have something I want to share with you.”
I COULDN’T MOVE.
My knees locked against buckling. My heart thundered from fighting with Jethro. I hated myself for missing him. The instant the door closed behind him, I couldn’t stop the overwhelming urge to follow.
It’s because you think you understand him enough to predict his next atrocity.
I supposed that was right. Locked in a room with the man who killed my mother was a lot worse than being with the son I began to see as more than just a cold piece of ice.
“Sit, Nila.” Mr. Hawk smiled from the head of the table. I was grateful he didn’t come toward me or request that I go to him. But it did nothing to stop fear, repulsion, and rage from saturating my heart.
Pouring himself some orange juice from the carafe beside him, he muttered, “You have such a low opinion of us.”
Slowly, I sank back into my chair. Gripping the lip of the table, I forced myself to stay calm and ready to fight. “What do you expect? You stole me then let your men lick me.”
“Did they hurt you?”
His question hung heavy between us.
I wanted to lie and say yes they’d hurt me. Mentally scarred me. But that wouldn’t be the truth. If anything, they’d been the first step into finally embracing the strength I’d always been afraid of. Hurt me? Yes, they’d transformed me into a stranger.
I tilted my chin, looking down my nose. “It was wrong.”
“Was it? You seemed to find it pleasurable.”
I refused to let my cheeks pink.
“To give an unwilling woman to a room of men is wrong. Gross. Against the law.”
He chuckled, sounding way too much like his son. “Let me lay this out for you, seeing as Jethro currently seems to be struggling with following orders and discipline.” He placed his elbows on the table. “Obey, and you will have free reign of my home, go where you please, direct my staff as you see fit, and truly become one of us. I don’t have the time nor the inclination to keep you trapped in a tower with only the occasional scraps to keep you alive. That, my dear, in my experience doesn’t make a good pet, nor does it make a willing Weaver to pay back the debts owed.”
There was so much information in that small speech, I grasped at each word with eager fingers.
Jethro struggled with discipline?
Free reign?
Willing?
I wanted answers to all my questions, but I focused on the one I needed most. Twisting the truth a little, I asked, “Why do you say that about Jethro? He’s been nothing but freezing cold since we met.”
Mr. Hawk smiled. “Yes, he’s been doing well with that. I’m rather proud of him.”
My heart seized. What did that mean?
He added, “You seem to think these debts will be monstrous. Shall I put your mind at rest, so you may relax and enjoy our hospitality?”
There’s nothing you can say to make me relax while under your heinous roof.
“No. I’ll never enjoy anything you offer me.”
He scowled. “The First Debt will be the easiest. The simplest extraction of payment for something your ancestors did. The next will be slightly more taxing and so on and so forth, until all debts are accounted for.”
I know that, arsehole. Your son told me.
Smirking, he added, “The timeframe for each debt will be decided by Jethro and myself, depending on your acceptance of your new life. And rewards will be given when you fully cooperate.” Taking a sip of juice, he finished, “Don’t worry about your future; we have it completely under control.”
Ugh, I couldn’t stand his egotistical attitude. “You do realise none of this is legal. The Human Rights Act abolished selling people into slavery. You can’t keep me forever.”
Mr. Hawk went deathly still. “I see you’ve been researching while cooped up in your room.” Wiping his mouth, he muttered, “No amount of laws or rules will save you, Ms. Weaver. The debts between our two families trump all that.”
Only in your sick, twisted mind.
Changing the subject, I crossed my arms and snapped, “Jethro already told me how the debts would be laid out. Tell me something new.”
Mr. Hawk froze. “He did what?”
Oh, God. Jethro’s weakness around me was to my advantage. Why did I say that? Why tip off his tyrannical father to his son’s hidden softness?
Backtracking, I muttered, “He told me while dragging me back after hunting me down.” Holding up my scratched arms from tree branches, I hoped the evidence of being mistreated at Jethro's hands would mollify him. “He hunted me with the same dogs he made me sleep with. You should be proud of your son, sir. He’s a monster.”
A monster with a heart buried deep beneath that snow you make him embrace.