His arms lassoed around me tightly. “I think you’re right.” Nuzzling my hair, he murmured, “How about we go to each place where the debts were completed and replace them with a happier memory.”
I hugged him back. “I’d like that.”
Sex to replace the First Debt.
A lakeside picnic to replace the Second Debt.
My mind skipped to the Third Debt—the debt that would’ve broken me if it weren’t for Kestrel protecting me by being such a gentleman. At the time, I’d been conflicted, hurt Jethro wasn’t there, confused as to my body’s reaction to Kes.
But now, I was glad we’d had that moment together. I loved Kes. I couldn’t admit it before as I didn’t fully understand it, but I loved him more than a friend but less than Jethro. A friend who would always have my heart.
Jethro sighed, knowing where my thoughts were without me having to vocalize.
His condition truly took any secrecy out of our relationship. I would never be able to hide anything, and in some ways, it annoyed me. I would never be able to sulk behind white lies or indulge in a cold shoulder if we ever had a fight.
But at the same time, it was refreshing to know there would never be anything between us because his gift worked both ways. Yes, he could feel what I felt, but at the same time, I could read him better than he knew. His eyes, his face, his body—they all told me what I needed to know.
Jethro cupped the back of my nape, running his fingers along my throat and collar. “I know what Kes did to you that night. At the time, I fucking hated him for it, but now…I’m actually glad you had that with him. You deserved to know how much he cared for you.”
I nodded. “Me too. It was wrong in a way but right as well. It doesn’t mean I love you any less, but there’ll always be space for Kes in my heart.”
Jethro smiled sadly. “As it should. He was part of me, my only true confidant. I’m glad you’ll miss him as much as me.” His head tilted, lips coming to meet mine.
We stood still as we kissed softly.
His tongue licked my bottom lip, and I opened for him. Inhaling his soul and taste, I slipped into bone-sated happiness knowing I belonged to this man and he belonged to me.
I was no longer alone.
I would never be alone again.
We’d bound ourselves together and become family.
I WON’T SAY it was easy. Because it wasn’t.
I won’t say everything became fucking puppies and rainbows. Because it didn’t.
The pain was still there.
The knowledge my father was broken, my mother murdered, and an unknown sister given away at birth.
But things did get easier.
Tex slowly grew used to Threads and Jethro together. He’d watch them touch and whisper and even he couldn’t deny their love was pure.
Jethro had been a cocksucker; he’d hurt my sister and almost destroyed my family¸ but he’d done everything in his power to fix his wrongs and ensure he earned the right to forgiveness. It helped that he loved Threads so fucking much. He lit up around her. He became more around her. He breathed because of her.
In a way, I was fucking jealous. He’d stolen her from me completely. They shone around each other, and when I caught him watching her, the aching adoration in his gaze made me admit Nila was lucky.
She would never be alone or unloved again. She’d met the one who would be there for her through night and day, happy and sad, bad and good.
He would be there for her even when death came for them.
I, on the other hand, grew restless living on someone else’s turf. I loved patching my family back together and enjoyed the night chats I had with Jasmine. But I missed the magic of London, the thrill of running the company—the real world.
I returned to my apartment in the city a couple of weeks after Kestrel’s funeral. Tex moved back to the family home, returning to the factory as if nothing life-changing had happened. Jethro had given me an open invitation to come and stay at the Hall as often as I liked. And Nila said she’d miss me but her place was now with her Hawk.
I was fine with all of it.
However, it was Jasmine who shocked everyone.
She admitted she wanted to leave Hawksridge and explore a new life.
Jethro had almost fucking passed out hearing his baby sister, a self-confessed recluse, wanted to leave the estate.
She wouldn’t tell me the story of how she lost the use of her legs, but I knew it had something to do with her brother and father. I wanted to know her secrets, but then again, so much was in the past that it was best to let it go and move forward.
The argument about Jasmine’s living arrangements had lasted a full night before Jethro conceded he couldn’t keep his sister prisoner—no matter how much he would fret over her safety.
I’d almost spat out my tea when Jaz calmly turned to me and asked if she could move in with me for a time.
Fuck.
I’d gone from a bachelor flirting with the sister of the man about to become my brother-in-law to inheriting a live-in girlfriend.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t put the moves on Jasmine. I’d kissed her. I wanted her. But she wouldn’t let me go any further. I knew she was a virgin, and she was worried about her body and disability. But I didn’t care about that. Fuck, all I cared about was hearing her laugh and making her come with my tongue.
As for her request, I didn’t have to think about it. Of course, I agreed. And the next day, we moved out of Hawksridge. I stole a Hawk to share my home.
Luckily, I had a penthouse in downtown London. Lifts serviced the floors and the extra-wide corridors proved to be the perfect environment for her to get around.
We became friends.
Great friends.
More than friends.
I wanted her every evening we spent ribbing each other watching crap TV. I needed her every day we argued over which model would be best to showcase Nila’s show pieces. My cock hardened constantly around her, yet she never insinuated sex and I didn’t want to scare her by pushing.
For months, we lived together and never crossed the line.
I honestly didn’t know if she could even have sex. Would she be able to feel me? Would she even want me to see her naked, to bring her pleasure and fulfil the prophecy she herself had decreed the night she’d rolled into my life and demanded my help to save her dying brothers.
She’d said one day I would belong to a woman other than my sister.
At the time, I’d wanted to rip out her fucking heart for ever suggesting such a thing. I was a Weaver. Loyal and true. But what she’d said was right. Life moved on, we grew up, and eventually, we all replaced our blood families with chosen ones.
And somehow, Jasmine became my chosen one.
She enticed me more and more.
I wanted her more and fucking more.
If only she would give in to me. If only she trusted me that I wanted her because of her mind and soul and not just her body.
She wouldn’t submit…not yet.
But I wouldn’t stop trying.
And the day she finally gave in…she would make me the happiest fucking man in the world.
Three Months and One Week Later…
LIFE WAS FULL of moments and this was the biggest of all.
Today was the end of my godforsaken life and the first day of a pristine existence.
For three months, I’d found the happiness I never dared dream of. Hawksridge Hall came alive with companionship and friendship rather than lust and greed. Flaw managed the Black Diamond brothers with ease. Our smuggling was no more; we’d opened the lines for proper trade with diamonds, ensuring our mines and workers were well compensated.
Nila and I had returned to Almasi Kipanga. We’d given every worker bonuses, set up fair work practices, and arranged a proper building estate to be erected to house those who wanted to stay.
Once completed, we sent word to our other mines: emeralds in Thailand, rubies in Burma. The other Bl
ack Diamond factions changed their practices to better suit our loyal workers.
The new regime was named after the man who’d planned all along to improve our employees’ conditions: Kestrel.
While in Botswana, we also overturned Cut’s commands that any worker injured in the mine had to leave. We tracked down those employees and rehired all those he’d fired and rehabilitated those who’d lost limbs in tragic accidents. We also compensated the families who’d lost loved ones working for us. Money couldn’t bring back their family, but it could make their future a little easier.
Vaughn and Jasmine officially announced they were together, and Tex had finally started to shed some of his guilt.
Together, the Weavers worked to find Jacqueline. Only last week we were told there might be a lead on a woman matching Nila and Vaughn’s birthday living not far away in Cornwall.
Things were healing. And Nila had healed me in return.
And now…she’d given me the best gift she could ever do.
Married me.
My hands fisted as she appeared at the top of the aisle. All around us, the ocean glistened as the sun set on the most spectacular day.
This had been V’s idea. He’d seen the photos I’d doctored when I first stole Nila. The ones of me hugging her on a private yacht and kissing her at sea. He’d jokingly said a couple of months ago when we set the date that our nuptials would have to be on a boat to honour the almost futuristic prediction of those photographs.
I couldn’t agree more.
My heart thundered as Nila drifted forward. Her father clutched her tight while his face glowed with pride and love. Her dress was the one she’d refused to let me see the night she didn’t come to bed.
She’d somehow conjured exactly what I envisioned. After making love to her that night, the strangest thought popped into my head and never left.
The black gown I’d torn from her when I threw her on my motorcycle had always haunted me. I’d felt what that dress meant to her. The countless hours of hardship and skill she’d poured into the fabric creation. I hadn’t let her see how much her despair affected me that night but I wanted to somehow change that memory—just as we’d changed all the others.
Either she’d sensed my desires or I’d picked up on her thoughts of what she busily created—either way, she drifted toward me in the mirror image of the dress, but instead of black, she glistened in silver and white.
My eyes smarted, drinking her in. This was the first time I’d seen the gown but not the first time I’d been teased with it.
Once she finished the dress, she’d called George and Sylvie who’d done the Vanity Fair article when Nila had returned to Hawksridge. As promised, they were offered an exclusive release, hiding the gown from me but preparing the four-page spread for the world.
I glanced over at the two reporters, snapping pictures and taking notes on our wedding. Part of the arrangement included coverage of the ceremony so the last nasty rumours were put to rest—along with every other transgression and hardship of the past year.
Vaughn apologised for causing the social media backlash, but I didn’t accept his apology. He’d done what he could to save Nila. He was a pain in my arse most days, but he loved his sister, and in turn, I loved him because of that.
George waved his pen in my direction, smiling in his tuxedo.
They were the only invited non-family guests at this wedding.
We’d kept it small—partly because of my condition, but mostly because a marriage was private. Really, it was between two people and that was it. A spectacle didn’t need to be made when all we needed was a celebrant, a ring, and a shared vow.
My back straightened as Nila ghosted closer. She looked like a princess, a queen—my queen.
White and soft grey feathers covered her cleavage, sewn with immense skill to transform from feather to gemstone further down the bodice.
The hooped skirt swept like a bell as Tex brought his daughter closer to me, gifting her to me in an age-old tradition.
The first time I’d stolen Nila, I’d threatened him and taken her without his approval. This time, he willingly gave her to me to safeguard because he knew without a doubt I would die for her, I would fight for her…I would change history for her.
The sea breeze caught the edge of her veil, fluttering the lace around her face, activating the large diamond secured in her hair to drench her in rainbows.
The diamond collar gleamed like fire, picking up the orange of the sunset and the flash of white heels peeked under the layers of skirts with every step. The only thing on her that wasn’t white was her engagement ring and bracelet.
The black diamonds sucked in what the white diamonds glittered off. The onyx gem absorbed the emotions and celebration of such a day, storing deep within its priceless heart, kept safe forever.
“You’re a lucky son of a bitch.” V’s whispered words came from beside me.
Glancing at him, I grinned. Today was bittersweet. I never thought I would get married. And if I ever found the one to take me on, I envisioned my brother as my best man. Kestrel wasn’t there in body, but he was in spirit. I felt his pride on the sea air. I saw his smile in the sunset. And my new brother stood in his place. My brother-in-law.
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
Jasmine sat opposite, in the maid of honour position. Her eyes reflected the colour of her beautiful bridesmaid’s dress of purple and black. Nila had designed the gown, as well as my suit and V’s best man’s outfit. We all matched. A family.
The soft music stopped playing as Nila ended the procession within touching distance.
Tex wiped away a tear as he hugged his daughter. He’d lost the weight he’d carried ever since I’d taken Nila and looked like the distinguished gentleman from the night I stole her.
We’d had a private chat a couple of months ago. I’d apologised to him for what my family had done and sworn on the graves of my ancestors that Nila was forever safe in my arms.
Nila stood before me.
I blinked, drinking in her incredible perfection.
Her tiny hands slotted into mine, and I squeezed her so damn hard.
The celebrant I’d hired clasped his fingers together, looking at the small congregation. There weren’t many of us. Flaw represented the Black Diamonds. Tex represented Nila's family. There were no business partners or friends, no assistants or organisers.
Just the people who mattered.
“Do you have your own vows or would you like to repeat after me?”
Nila smiled softly. “We’ve already said what we needed to.”
I nodded, thinking about the newly framed Sacramental Pledge hanging in my office. The figurines from my boyhood and the contract for my happiness as an adult, side by side.
“Go ahead with traditional. The sooner she’s my wife, the better.”
The celebrant smiled, his dark hair catching the sunset as it kissed the ocean. England was behind us. The Greek isles and Santorini nestled us, floating on the turquoise ocean.
Our honeymoon would be spent here. Relaxing on the beach and making love in the moonlight. V and Tex had planned to source some local cotton and silk, while Flaw had meetings with jewellery shops to stock our diamonds.
Work and pleasure.
A perfect combination.
“Do you, Jethro ‘Kite’ Hawk, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife, for now and forever, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”
I didn’t need to think. “I do.” A thousand times, I do.
“And do you, Nila Threads Weaver, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband, for now and forever, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”
Nila shook her head.
Shook her head? What the fuck?
Smiling, she murmured, “I take him now and forever but not for as long as we both shall live.” She squeezed my fingers, her eyes glinting. “Far beyond that. For eternity.”
I couldn’t
wait for the ‘you may kiss the bride’ part. I grabbed her shoulders and yanked her forward. My lips met hers, and I forgot about the world and witnesses. I forgot about everything but soldering my soul to this woman who’d captured me as carefully as a net captures a hawk.
Speaking into her mouth, I whispered, “Seeing as you changed the rules, I have another one to add to your vow. I swear to love you forever. You are no longer indebted to me. I’m indebted to you. My heart is in your debt. My happiness. My very life is yours.”
Nila melted, holding onto me as I dipped her and deepened the kiss.
Laughing, the celebrant spoke to the gathered crowd. “Seeing as you just sealed your vows, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
The cheers crested, and for the first time in my life, being in a crowd didn’t hurt. The overwhelming sensation of everyone’s emotions was of happiness, fulfilment, and joy.
Tex enveloped us in a hug. “Welcome to the family, Hawk.”
I grinned. “Thank you for having me.”
Tex kissed his daughter. “I guess you’re no longer a Weaver, Threads.”
Nila sighed. “I’ll always be your daughter, Dad, but for now, I belong and have willingly become a Hawk.”
He nodded as if it made perfect sense that his daughter married the son of the man who killed his wife. It was a twisted world, but somehow, Nila and I had found a way to untangle it to the point of acceptance.
My fingertips tingled from our tally tattoos and I made a note to ask Nila if she’d like to finish the marks now we’d cemented our lives together. Ten fingers, ten tattoos. A lifetime of happiness.
Somehow, we’d found life over death.
Chosen freedom over debts.
And I would never take my future or my wife for granted.
JETHRO LOCKED THE door.
The yacht rocked beneath our toes, sedate and savage in its sea-cradle.
The curtains had been drawn across the balcony, the bed turned down by well-trained staff, and all the guests remaining on board were a floor below.
We were the only bedroom on this level.
Private.