Final Debt (Indebted #6)(80)

Could I not put those I cared about before a total stranger?

People did it all the time.

They murdered to protect themselves and loved ones. They willingly forgot the commandments in favour of how they viewed what was acceptable and what was not.

I was no different.

Those who knew me understood my passion and drive. And those who didn’t. Well, I didn’t give a rat’s arse what they thought.

There were rarely two sides to every story. In my long life experience, I’d come to see the truth. There were multiple sides. Pages and pages of sides. A never-ending battle where humans picked what they believed, causing friction and intolerance. Sometimes the choices were for understandable reasons—not justified or rash or right—just…understandable.

And when I understood that magic, I learned how to create the same spell within my own empire.

There was no right and wrong.

There was no black and white.

Those two simple lessons guided me through my life forever.

My reasons for doing what I did made sense to me. They were my dreams, and I was lucky enough to have the power and authority to press those dreams on others.

Was I right? Depended on who you asked.

Was I wrong? Not in my eyes.

And really, that was all that mattered.

I believed in what I did. I loved my family. I adored the power and wretchedness my loved ones could deliver. I gave my entire being to ensuring they thrived.

It all started on the day Alfred ‘Eagle’ Hawk asked me to marry him. The day he went from courting to bent knee, I knew my trials at living within my place in society were over. I hated the airs and graces of stuck-up princesses at the seasonal parties. I hated dealing with egotistical jerks who thought one manor and a career slaving for others meant they could take care of me.

Idiots.

That was just a prison sentence, and I had no intention of sharing a cell with middle-class achievers.

I came from wealthy stock myself. The Warrens owned most of South Hampton and a fleet of transportation that travelled all over the world with merchandise. Mainly, other people’s merchandise—a fact I didn’t like. I didn’t like that we helped others improve their footing in this world.

Finite resources meant me and mine had to share.

I believed those I loved and shared blood with should prosper and those who didn’t shouldn’t. A simple decision that came with so many different sides.

As I grew used to my newfound authority, I decided to forgo my first name of Melanie and rechristen myself as Bonnie.

Bonnie Hawk rose from the ashes of Melanie Warren.

And I became a true wife and supporter.

When I fell pregnant with Peter, my first child, I swore he would be the reason I worked beside Alfred and gathered more power. Hard work and dedication didn’t scare me. Failure and destitution did. So I did everything in my power to make my husband great—beyond great—unsurpassable.

One night, Alfred told me of the Debt Inheritance. It took me years to get him to fully explain what it meant. Wives of Hawk men were not supposed to get involved with the so-called Indebted business, but Alfred was mine, and if it was in my power to bring him greater glory, I would do it.

I was then graced with another son, Bryan. Life smiled on us, doting on my perfect children, ensuring they would become great masters and lords of a universe I would help maintain and create for them.

However, one stormy night and a few too many cognacs, Alfred told me how he claimed a Weaver before he met me. He carried out a few debts but couldn’t carry out the final one. He didn’t attach the Weaver Wailer, and he lied about killing her to a save face with the history books.

He let her go. Told her to run. To hide. He buried an empty coffin, pretended he’d completed the debts, and covered up the truth on the moor.

Stupid bastard.

That kind of weakness was not tolerated. I lost all respect for him. I saw him for what he was—a wimp. So I moved out of his bedroom to new quarters. I could no longer stomach his unwillingness to deliver a perfect future for our sons. Years later when he died of lung cancer, I didn’t mourn his loss. I celebrated it.

Now was my time to triumph or meddle—again, it depended on whose opinion.

Peter took after his father. A hard worker, loyal and kind. I truly hoped he would be a good replacement and heir but time slowly changed my opinion.

Bryan took after me. He had my soul, my discipline, my drive for the impossible. Peter preferred to study and donate our wealth to charities. Bryan preferred to take that wealth and turn it into even more wealth for us—not others.

We were blood, but battle lines had been drawn and as age separated my two sons, I taught the one who listened. Bryan had been my student since he was little, and he remained my student all his life.

I’d wanted more children. I wouldn’t deny it. Lots and lots of children to ensure a greater probability of world domination. We traded in the most priceless of wealth. We owned countless empires in countries around the globe. I was finally in a position to ensure we were unstoppable, but I only had one son on my side. However, he was a son who was happy to oblige.

While I was busy teaching Bryan how to run the Black Diamonds with better efficiency, digging through Hawk history books and immersing myself in my new family more than I ever did as a Warren, Peter fell in love.

A woman he met at an animal shelter. He brought her home to introduce us a few months into their relationship. Behind my back, he’d asked her to marry him and she’d agreed without my consent.