Final Debt (Indebted #6)(51)

“William obviously didn’t put up with such behaviour and fought his enemies by becoming a smuggler.”

I rolled my wrists, encouraging blood to flow into my fingertips. “How?”

“The mines at Almasi Kipanga gave many ranges of diamonds. Some of low grade. Some of high. The lower grade, William mixed with quartz and other invaluable gemstones, pretending the shipment contained millions worth of invaluable cargo. He’d allow the hijacking and sacrifice the haul without losing anything of value.

“The king was aware of the ruse and allowed him to create tales and fiction of robberies and bankruptcy. But what the thieves didn’t know was, William had found better ways to transport. He lost his reputation of respectful decorum and embraced a notoriety of strict and fearful.

“His trusted warriors ensured his mystery increased, killing those who opposed him, creating a formidable empire no one could take down. Not even the king.”

Cut stopped before me. “That wealth started our dynasty and the power that ensured we were above the Weavers, even though they’d been the court seamstresses and royal designers for decades. It was the same power that made the Weavers run like vermin, hiding in their new Spanish home, believing they were safe from any other claimant on the contract.”

I frowned. “So William never made Marion pay the Debt Inheritance? He let her live?”

Cut smiled. “There’s something you didn’t know about William. Something Jethro shares with his great-great—too many great ancestor.”

I smiled, happy I’d seen within the lines of his story. “I think I know what that is.”

Cut narrowed his eyes. “I suppose, after being so close to my son, that would make sense. For the purpose of full disclosure. What is it?”

My arms ached to hold Jethro. My heart throbbed to be with him, away from this place. I held my lover’s eyes as I muttered, “He was an Empath, too.”

“Exactly.” Cut nodded. “An unfortunate trait that runs in the family. It wasn’t diagnosed or even recognised as a condition. But records and voyage logs give hints into William’s emotional perception. His disease prevented him from hurting the one girl he was owed.”

Cut moved toward me, his body heat defiling mine. My feet moved for every one of his, moving in a slow waltz around the room.

“Because William was so weak emotionally, he felt the brunt of inflicted pain. He’d endured discomfort in his merchant world. He’d seen things, done things, and lived through things he couldn’t shake when having to deliver agony first-hand. Unfortunately, the thought of carrying out the same punishment, of whipping her for his grandfather and ducking her for his aunt, and raping her for his father—he knew he couldn’t do it.”

Cut’s story achieved two things. One, it showed that although my ancestors had been conceited and cruel, Sonya had been compassionate and kind. And even though the Hawks were insane today; back then, they sounded upstanding and courageous.

Cut’s voice cut through my musing. “Instead of taking her for his own, William let Marion marry and breed. He married himself and accepted the gift of land from the crown to build our home, Hawksridge Hall.”

Cut stopped moving; I stopped backing away.

His white hair flickered with the electric lamps around the room. His voice turned raspy from delivering such a long tale. “Unfortunately for William, his firstborn, Jack Hawk, was nothing like his father. Jack willingly accepted the Debt Inheritance when he came of age.”

I finally understood why, through so many generations, only a select few inheritances had been claimed. There would’ve been more Hawks like Jethro—especially if it was a common trait. And my family didn’t take the threat seriously because the claiming wasn’t strictly enforced.

Cut didn’t speak again for a minute, letting history fade around us, allowing ghosts to settle back into their coffins.

Taking a deep breath, he finished, “So you see, Nila. We had our own hardships. We knew what it was like to rise from the gutter. And the Weavers couldn’t stop us.”

I squirmed in my ropes, hating he’d come to an end—knowing it meant only one thing. I’d enjoyed the lesson, but I wanted to run from whatever debt he would make me repay. “But you have so much. Why bother hurting others when you no longer need to?”

Cut scowled. “Why do politicians lie? Why do the richest families in the world create war? Why do those who have the power to fix global poverty choose to exploit and murder instead?” His fingers kissed my cheek. “Nila, the world is black beneath the skirts of society. We aren’t any different from others.”

“That’s not true. I don’t believe that.”

“Don’t believe what?”

“That other men do this. Hurt others.”

Cut laughed loudly. “Don’t you pay attention to the news? Do you not see between the lines of what a corrupted, blackmailed globe we live in?”

I looked away.

Jethro continued to wriggle. Nervous sweat beaded on his forehead while wildness glowed in his eyes.

We both understood time had run out. Cut was ready for the next part of this sick and twisted game.

“I do agree some families control every earthly asset.” I stood tall and defiant. “I agree death to them is as simple as a signature or a whispered word. What I don’t agree with is why. Why do you have to do this?”