Captured Boxed Set: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart (89 page)

Jethro clenched his jaw but
remained silent.

Rolling his eyes, Mr. Hawk faced me
again and smiled. "I’ll give you a brief history lesson, then you must
begin your duties." Reaching up, he tugged the maid’s cap on my head.

Every inch of me crawled, but I
didn’t move away. I was hungry for knowledge. Starving to know just how they
continued to control my family with no fear of police interference or
retribution.

Mr. Hawk reclined, his thumb
drawing small circles on my upper thigh. "It all began with one man, who
you’ll find out about in a little bit. He had children, gracing them all with
the Weaver name. Now, from that day on, the power of the family name travelled
with the firstborn girl. No matter if she married, divorced, or suddenly wanted
to change her name to something whimsical, she wasn’t permitted. Whoever she
married, it was a condition that the
man
change his name so that their
offspring always bore the Weaver name and continued the line of succession of
the debt."

Why did they do it?
Why keep a name that only brought misery? My mind hurt trying to
understand the Hawk’s power.

"You, I believe, are the
seventh woman to be taken. And the claiming can happen anywhere between the
ages of eighteen and twenty-six."

"You have rules on ruining
someone’s life?"

His forehead furrowed. "What
do you think we’re doing, Nila?
Everything
we’re doing is following a
strict set of rules—laid out in utmost simplicity and must be followed."

"If you’re following rules,
then follow the rules of today’s society. You think I accept what you’re
telling me? That all of this is
legal
?" I spat the last word. "You
think its common place to threaten my family, steal me away, and imprison me
with a collar of diamonds that won’t come off until I die? You’re completely
insane. And wrong. And—"

"No one—especially a
Weaver—has the right to speak to me like that." Mr. Hawk’s fingernails bit
into my thigh. "What part are you not understanding, girl? We haven’t
threatened your family—they are under observeillance to ensure their best
behaviour. We didn’t steal you away—you came voluntarily, remember? And as for
the collar—you should be proud to wear it. It’s the most treasured piece in the
Hawks antiquities."

I bit my lip as his fingernails
pierced harder.

His voice dropped the scholarly
softness, sliding into strictness. "I see you need more concrete evidence.
Fine. The diamonds you wear are worth millions. The diamonds we’ve sourced have
been used to trade, buy services, bribe officials, own prime ministers, even
control diplomats and royalty. No one is above the allure of a flawless
diamond, Ms. Weaver. Everyone has a price. Lucky for us, we can
afford
any price."

His tone sharpened. "Does that
answer your rude question?"

What response could I give? There
was nothing I could say or do to ignore my entire situation. They might have
some misplaced belief that they were in the right—but that didn’t matter.
Because they owned the very people I would need to save me.

My shoulders dipped; I sighed.

Mr. Hawk grinned. "Glad you’re
coming to your senses, girl. Don’t under estimate us, Nila Weaver. We’ve had
the law on our side for hundreds of years. We
still
have the law on our
side and that won’t change. You are nothing more than a single woman who left
the world’s spotlight because she fell in love. You are already consumed and
forgotten."

His fingernails stopped slicing my
leg; he patted me gently. "I apologise that my son didn’t inform you of
this. It’s his job to be implicitly open with you. To ensure you accept your
new standing quickly." He threw a glare at Jethro behind us.

Jethro locked his jaw, his eyes
unreadable.

Mr. Hawk bounced me on his knee. "Now,
no more questions. Serve my Diamond brothers and earn your right to more
information."

My heart shot up my throat. "Serve
them how?"

Mr. Hawk shook his head. "Ah,
I just told you, no more questions. I have no doubt Jethro would’ve been rather
firm on
that
instruction. Silence is the key to pleasing us." He
pinched my lips together. "Don’t say a word until we permit it, and you’ll
be rewarded."

I’m to be a blow-up doll with no
voice or soul?

Looking down, I fought against the
urge to tear my face from his grip.

He didn’t let me go. And I couldn’t
keep fighting the urge. So I did the only thing I could. Slowly, I nodded,
losing another battle against the trickling tears cascading silently down my
cheeks. They continued their unhindered sad journey down my neck, through the
collar, to my naked nipples below.

The sun glinted through the window,
blinding me for a second on the diamond pin in Jethro’s shirt. His eyes were
tight and narrowed, glaring at the room of leather-jacketed men; his face
resolute and frozen.

Freeing me, Mr. Hawk ordered, "Lean
forward, and retrieve the first bit of parchment."

I sat unmoving. I didn’t want to
wriggle on his lap. I didn’t want to give any reason for things to grow or
hands to grope.

Jethro lashed out from behind,
catching me by surprise. He didn’t hit me, but grabbed my diamond collar and
snapped a leash to the back. Tugging the restraint, he muttered, "Lesson
one. You’ll do as your told the
second
you’re told it. Otherwise, you’ll
choke until you do."

He moved to the back of the chair,
leaving my line of sight. The moment he was gone, the pressure on the collar
increased, digging into my larynx, cutting off my air supply.

Just let him strangle you.

It would be easier.

But as my body crushed against Mr.
Hawk from the pressure, and the natural instinct to fight took over, I knew I
couldn’t be so weak. There was no point in being stupid. If I was plane-wrecked
in a jungle, I would obey the law of the wild—doing absolutely anything to
survive.

Wasn’t this the same thing?

I was in a den of beasts and they
were trying to help me by teaching me their law. If I obeyed, I would live.
Entirely simple. Stupidly simple.

No sound, Nila. Not one word.
Switch off. Retreat into that spot inside and get through this.

I could do it by adapting, by
learning. I refused to be hurt for punishments I could avoid.

Jethro sensed my acquiescence at
the same time as his father. I didn't know what gave me away—the slouching of
my shoulders, the soft puff of sadness? Regardless, they knew I wouldn’t fight.
They’d won.

Jethro released the pressure on my
throat, removing the leash and dangling it over the back of the chair as he
moved back to his position. Mr. Hawk angled my face, pressing a wet kiss on my
cheek. "Good girl. You’re learning."

I didn’t even flinch. I was as cold
as his son.

Embrace it.

Locking eyes with Jethro, I kept
myself anchored while his father’s hand slipped inside the stupid pinafore and
found my breast.

Jethro gritted his teeth, but never
stopped glaring into my blank gaze.

I tensed, willing every molecule to
stay frigid and unattached. There was freedom in drifting—as I’d learned in the
kennel—and I let my mind go.

I would be Jethro and remain stone
cold on the outside. But inside I would be Kite and cut the strings of my
soul—soaring where they’d never touch me.

No matter what they did.

My head bowed as Mr. Hawk pressed
up, grinding a hard cock against my naked arse. "Read the parchment."

My hair fell in a thick black
curtain, obscuring half of the men who watched with eager eyes. They weren’t
panting, but they reminded me of hungry dogs just waiting for permission to
attack and kill.

My hands didn’t shake as I reached
for the parchment. I lowered my eyes to read. I was silently amazed at how
collected and aloof I seemed. Shocked that I’d so easily turned off. What did
that say about me? I’d just learned about my mother. Spent the night with a
pack of dogs.
Am I really that adaptable?
Or was shock to blame?

The parchment used to be whole—it
was age-stained, blood-marked, and torn. Glancing upright, I noticed the
remaining pieces scattered around the table. A treasure hunt to read what would
be my sentence.

Not every man had a piece, but at a
quick count, I guessed four to five shards of secret-tarnished paper were out
there, waiting for me to read.

Looking back to the parchment in my
hands, my eyes landed on the crest I’d grown fast to recognise of hawks, women,
and diamonds. It took pride of place at the top of the letter with intricate
calligraphy and penmanship.

Taking
a deep breath, I read.

On
this date, the eighteenth day, of the eighth month, of the year of our Lord
sixteen-seventy-two, we hereby convene to settle the unsightly claims and
forthwith family disruptions between Percy Weaver and Bennett Hawk.

We
call upon the royal sovereignty to grace this binding agreement upon the two
houses, to put aside flagitious slander, and immoral actions, and settle this
as gentlemen.

As esquire over this binding
estate, I have mention Percy Weaver and family, including church-sanctified
marriage to Mary Weaver, and his thrice offspring of two boys and one girl are
also governed by the degree found today, or they shall hang by the neck until
dead for heinous crimes found unjustifiable by the court of England so help me
God.

It ended.

I stopped reading but didn’t move.
Not a breath. Not a fidget. It was true then. My family had done something to
justify all of this.

But what could be so awful to earn
a contract spanning generations of repayments?

Mr. Hawk bounced me again, tweaking
my nipple. "Finished?"

My heart neither fluttered nor
sank. I was flying free—escaped from this unfolding nightmare.

"Intrigued? Want to know the
rest?" His fingers twisted harder, but I didn’t care. All I cared about
was finding out more.

Ignoring his touch, I breathed for
the first time and nodded. As much as I didn’t want to get close to the other
men with sin and greed glowing in their eyes, curiosity burned. I was desperate
to read more torn pages and solve the mystery of my lineage.

Why did father never say
anything? Why did he raise me to think we were good people?

That question would probably never
be answered.

Mr. Hawk placed his hands on my
hips, hoisting me from his lap. I stood with my eyes cast downward. Silent and
waiting.

He smiled in encouragement. "Behaving
well so far. Let’s see if you can keep it up." Waving toward the overladen
sideboard full of hors d'oeuvres, fish dishes, meat dishes, roast vegetables,
and desserts, he said, "You’re our waitress for this little get together.
Please be so kind as to serve our meal. You’ll receive a token of thanks from
each of the Black Diamond brothers and earn the right to finish your reading."

My legs moved before my brain registered.
The primal part of me taking over to jump to the task. I might be a naïve woman
who didn’t know how to jerk a man off, but I was a businesswoman at heart. I’d
been around strict shop buyers, ditzy models, and sulking catalogue owners. I’d
learned how to adapt and sell my work.

This was no different.

I had to adapt and sell myself.

Make him care. Make him
feel
.

My eyes flew to Jethro. Was it
possible? Could I break his ice and find a man deep inside—a man who I could
seduce, beguile, and ultimately use to stay alive?

Am I that strong?

Mr. Hawk tapped my behind as I
skirted the back of his chair. Jethro didn’t move back, granting a small space
for me to pass.

I hunched into myself, preparing
for whatever cruelty he had planned.

His body twitched. The perfect
lines of muscle and masculinity once again making me despise his natural
beauty. An unwilling rush shot through my system at the memory of him touching
me, fingering me.

He’d wanted me in that moment and
it had nothing to do with debts or pain. It’d been pleasurable, confusing, and
awkward but…maybe there was something I could work with.

The idea to seduce Jethro flowered
quickly. The bloom wasn’t fresh like the bud of a rose but
black
. The
unfurling petals dripped with filth, sprouting from a place I never wanted to
acknowledge. He belonged to a family who ruined mine. He had no compassion. No
heart.

How could I make him care when
stone was utterly heartless?

I’ll try, though
. Why not? I had nothing left to lose.

I could be their ward, to be
tormented on a daily basis, for years. I would be his toy for however long he
wanted. Time could change anything if the elements conspired with me. A
mountain ultimately had to give way to the sea if hammered by its salty waves.