Fourth Debt (Indebted #5)(18)

I frowned, absorbing the legal jargon.

What did it mean?

I looked at the very bottom, sucking in a breath as I double-checked the feminine sweep.

No.

My mother’s signature.

“What—”

I read it again. No matter how much I wished it wasn’t true, it was. My mother’s signature inked the paper, prim and proper, just as I remembered her writing style to be.

Right beside hers was Cut’s masculine scrawl.

My brain scrambled; I glared at Cut. “You weren’t firstborn.”

Cut smiled slyly. “Never said I was.”

Bonnie’s red lips spread into a sneer. “Sad day for all involved.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “I’d groomed my firstborn to be a worthy heir. Peter would’ve been a good leader but circumstances I didn’t foresee came to light.” Her gaze narrowed at Cut, full of reproof and history.

Cut shrugged. “A little mishap. That’s all.”

Bonnie coughed. “Call it what you want. I still haven’t forgiven you.”

Cut only laughed.

What on earth happened in that generation? What about the ages of the men? How was Cut allowed to claim my mother? Was that why she’d had children? Hearing that the firstborn Hawk had died, had she believed she was unbound to the debts?

If that was the case, how did she know what the future entailed when I hadn’t been told until Jethro appeared in Milan? Tex kept it from me. Emma might’ve been forewarned.

So many questions. So many scenarios.

When did Peter Hawk die?

If he died when my mother was young, maybe that was why she fell so hard for my father. Drunk on the thought of freedom, she’d started a family far younger than she might’ve done thinking we were all…safe.

What a horrible, terrible joke.

Questions danced on my tongue. I chose the most random but most poignant. “What happens when you run out of Weavers to torture? I won’t have children. Vaughn won’t. What then?”

Daniel laughed. “Remember that sister I joked about?”

Oh, my God. It’s true?

Cut interrupted. “You have no other siblings, Nila. I would’ve told you if you did. Merely a farce.”

Daniel scowled. “Thanks for f*cking ruining my fun. Had her believing that for months.”

I hadn’t believed it…but I’d wondered.

“So, it was all nonsense?”

Cut shook his head. “Not quite. You have a cousin. A few times removed but still bearing the Weaver name. We would look at all avenues if the future required it.”

Poor cousin.

I overflowed with rage. “Do you ever listen to yourself? You’re talking about people, for God’s sake.”

If Cut went after my unknown cousin, that didn’t explain the previous generations that’d had no children or were killed off before carrying on the bloodline. How did it continue for so long when having a child was never a guarantee?

I knew how. They’d amended it. Tweaked the so-called unbreakable contract to fit with the Hawks’ demented ideals.

Marshall plucked the paper from my hands. “I believe we’re getting off topic, Ms. Weaver.” Waving the parchment, he said, “Let’s focus on today’s subjects. Happy now you’ve seen the evidence with your own eyes?”

“Happy isn’t a word I know anymore.” I bared my teeth. “She wouldn’t have signed that without being threatened. I don’t care what you say.”

That fleeting afternoon when my mother returned home, adorned with the diamond collar and hugging me so tightly, came to mind. She’d been terrified but resigned. Broken but strong. I hadn’t understood back then, but now I did.

She’d reached the same stage I had. The stage where nothing else mattered but getting even, claiming justice.

There’s a point to this meeting.

My heart froze solid, finally understanding. “I won’t sign anything. I can assure you of that. You might as well pack up and piss off because I’ll tear apart anything you put in front of me.”

Jasmine growled; Cut merely chuckled. “I’m sure if you did that, you’d make Daniel a very happy man.”

Daniel draped an arm over me. “Oh, please, Weaver. Do it for me. You have my full permission to refuse the amendment and cut Jaz out of the updated terms.”

“Like hell she will.” Jasmine looped her fingers together in aggression. “You’ll sign, Nila. You’ll see.”

I didn’t reply, glaring at the table instead.

Marshall shuffled the paper. “All right, let’s carry on.” Pinching the top sheet from the newest looking tower, he pushed it toward me. “This is the latest amendment and requires your signature.”

My blood charged through overheated veins. “I told you—”

“Shut it.” Jasmine snatched the paper and stabbed the bottom where an empty box waited for my life to spill upon it. “Do it. It’s your only choice.”

Our eyes locked. Not only did I hate her for what she’d done and how much she’d tricked me, but I hated that she looked so much like him.

Jethro.

The shape of her nose. The curve of her cheekbones. She was the closest in appearance to him, and it hurt to hate someone who looked so much like the man I loved.