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I COULDN’T TAKE my eyes off the new intruder.
I wanted to back away to become as invisible as possible.
The entire atmosphere of the room changed the moment he’d stepped inside. Jethro was sleek and cool—as flawless as ice and as deadly as poison, but Arthur Killian was like a tank. A weapon reeking of biker oil, sunshine, and fearlessness. My body completely belonged to Jethro, but I couldn’t deny Killian’s massive arms, untamed hair, and glowing emerald eyes didn’t flutter my stomach.
Coming toward me, his clothing rustled as he held out his hand. “No matter how much I fear for my hand’s safety, I can’t ignore such a stunning woman.” The air hummed with fierce intensity.
My gaze flickered to Jethro as I looped my fingers with his. Jethro stiffened but didn’t retaliate. My cheeks burned as Killian’s grip wrapped tightly around mine.
He was so warm.
An oven compared to Jethro. And his eyes. Oh, my God, I’d never seen such green, green eyes.
“It’s not your hand that should be worried.”
Only yours, Kite. I shot the silent message to Jethro.
Killian laughed. It sounded like a rumbling earthquake. He shook his head almost sadly, glancing over his shoulder at Jethro before looking back at me. “In that case, I don’t know if I should be jealous of Hawk’s hand or regretful for my own.” His deep voice was rhythmic—an accented drawl different to Jethro’s crisp English loquacity.
“You’re American?”
Kill took a step back, running a hand through his jaw-length dark hair. He looked wild, ferocious, but with a brokenness about him speaking of unpredictability.
What hurt him? Or who?
The vulnerability hiding beneath his rough exterior called to the nurturing side of me. I wanted to protect him from something. But what? There was nothing in the world that could hurt this mountain of a man.
Kill nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Born and bred in Florida.”
“What are you doing so far from home?”
His large boots clopped across the metal floor as he sat on the cow-print couch by the door. Bright spotlights shone behind him, casting him in a fuzzy silhouette. His eyes narrowed, tone turning dark. “Business, mainly. And new connections.”
The way he said it didn’t sound just about business.
I’d been around dangerous men enough to recognise one with a vendetta. “And Jethro is going to help you with that?”
“Nila...don’t pry.” Jethro appeared by my side, wrapping a chilly arm around my shoulders. His strength suffocated me, tightening like a boa constrictor instead of a simple embrace.
My eyes shot to his. In the presence of a man who wore his vitality and emotions in full view, Jethro seemed even more remote. A damn island surrounded by shark-infested waters with ice for waterfalls and snow for sand.
Stepping out of his hold, I crossed my arms. “Does Killian know what you’ve done to me? What your family has done to mine?” It was a ridiculous move and one I would never normally do. But Killian made me bold.
Jethro froze.
His eyes turned deadly. “Enough.” Pointing at the door, he growled, “Time for you to leave.”
Kill laughed. “She your old lady?”
Jethro turned his temper on the burly man commandeering the entire couch with his bulk. “We don’t have misses or old ladies in our MC. We’re more of a business enterprise rather than a brotherhood.”
Kill shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I run the Pures as a business, too. But we’re still family.”
I jumped in. “The Black Diamonds aren’t family. They’re employees.”
Kill cocked his head, pinning his vibrant emerald eyes on me. “And you...are you an employee?” His gaze drifted down my front, drinking me in.
My heart beat faster, subjected to his scrutiny. His interest was visceral, but it wasn’t sexual.
I stood taller, balling my hands. “No, I’m—” His Weaver Whore. The woman destined to die for ludicrous debts.
“She’s not an employee,” Jethro snapped. “She’s a pain in my ass and needs to leave.” He herded me toward the door. “You’ve pushed and pushed me today.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Wait till we get home. You’ll pay the price.”
I spun in his hold, causing his hand to go from my lower back to my belly. I gasped as his long fingers brushed my bare midriff below my jumper.
“That threat doesn’t scare me.”
“Oh, no? It should.”
I inched closer, cursing the wetness building between my legs. “It doesn’t because I’m brave enough to give myself over to you. You’re terrified of me and all I need to say is ‘Kiss me, Jethro Hawk’ and we’ll see who wins again.”
He sucked in a harsh breath. “You’ll pay—”
“Watch me.” Tearing my eyes from his, I looked at Kill again. “To answer your question, I’m not his employee. I’m so much more than that.” My heart broke a little for a dream I would never have. “I could be his everything, but he’s too stupid to see what I’m offering.”
Killian’s face seemed to shatter, his own heartbreak slamming into mine. I felt a kinship with him. A mirroring echo to our hidden desires. He’d been hurt by someone just like Jethro was hurting me.
Fists and kicks and bullets might maim and destroy, but love...love tears out your insides and leaves you hollow, leaving you destined to live an empty existence until death. Lucky for me, I wouldn’t have to live long knowing Jethro could never love me.
Jethro pinched the bridge of his nose, fumbling for something in his pocket. “Goddammit, woman. Get out.”
Kill perched on the edge of the couch, a black shadow shading his face. “Wait, you love him?”
My heart lurched. I couldn’t look at Jethro as I confessed, “I do. And believe me, if I knew of a way to stop it, I would.”
Jethro turned into a vibrating ice sculpture. He tipped something into his palm—something small and white.
Kill glared at Jethro, his temper eddying around the room. “Did you know she loved you?”
Jethro sucked in a breath. “What the fuck sort of question is that?” Throwing the pill into his mouth, he swallowed.
What the hell is he taking?
Kill crossed his arms. “A simple one.”
I looked at Jethro, waiting for his answer, begging him to snap out of whatever his father had done and admit it. What was the harm? Why couldn’t he put me out of my misery and profess he felt what I did?
“Kite...” I whispered. “Answer it.”
Jethro’s eyes latched with mine. He trembled.
Please...stop pushing me away.
Stop being so cruel.
“There is no simple answer.” Jethro’s voice was strained, full of rocks.
Kill stood up, a huge wrecking ball about to decimate us. Ignoring Jethro, he brushed past and cupped my cheek so tenderly, it broke something that’d been festering inside me for months. “Love is something that strikes without warning to the most unsuspecting. It’s a fucking gift and so goddamn priceless, but only the worthy realise what they have. Only the ones truly deserving fight every fucking day to treasure it. And those who don’t...they end up alone.”
Dropping his hand, he glowered at Jethro. “I pity people who can’t be true to their hearts. But I’m done prying into your private lives.” He stormed back to the couch. “Leave, Nila. Hawk and I have business, and I want to get it over with.”
Jethro glared. His voice skittered into my ear. “Thanks a lot. Good fucking work.”
He shoved me out the door. “Go play with diamonds, Ms. Weaver, and leave me to worry about what repercussions your little stunt has caused.”
Before I could say a word, he slammed the door and yanked down the inner shutters. He left me stranded and alone, drenched in spotlights, dancing in rainbows from precious stones.
* * * * *
An hour passed.
A full hour of waltzing down rows upon rows of diamonds while wearing sunglasses indoors. I’d never seen so much wealth in one place and in so many varieties.
There were cloudy, uncut rocks that looked like any old stone. There were brilliantly faceted marquise, cushion, and princess.
Each and every one sent my heart throbbing, because each and every one symbolised just how much wealth the Hawks had and the lengths they would go to protect it.
I snorted. They value rocks more than human life.
My mind skipped back to Jethro and the tablets he’d taken. Were they the reason for his dramatic change? And if so...what could I do to detox him and make him mine again?
The staff smiled as I made my way through the middle of the warehouse. I walked strictly down the centre, not wanting to get too close to the desks and black velvet just in case I was accused of stealing.
I would never do such a thing, but for now, I had no clue what went on inside Jethro’s head. Cut might be biding his time for me to screw up to hurt me. This might be some crazy test.
I dawdled as long as I could, before turning and making my way back toward the office. Looking into the heights of the building, I frowned. The shutters were still in place, no hint of life.
How much longer is he going to be?
“You can touch, you know.”
My attention whipped to the side. A man with a beer gut and goatee motioned me closer. “They’re not poisonous.”
I shook my head, keeping my hands behind my back. “It’s okay. I’m more of a looker than a toucher.”
The man grinned, showing a gold-capped tooth and lines around his mouth. With stubby fingers, he chose a stone from the tray in front of him and placed it on his palm. The brilliant lights highlighted the dull quartz, and despite myself, I drifted closer.
“Give me your hand.”
“No, really—”
“Look, you came with the owner. You wear millions of their diamonds around your neck. I think they’ll let you hold a boring rock like this.”
My hand shot to the collar. The diamonds were warm beneath my touch, humming with vitality—almost as if they recognised their kin.
“When you put it that way.” Taking my sunglasses off, I pushed them on top of my head and hesitantly held out my hand.
“There you go.” He plopped the rock into my palm. I tried to ignore how strange it was to be talking to a half-naked man in a sweltering diamond factory.
When I just stood there, fearing that any moment Kes would arrive with a gun or Cut would chuckle and hurt me, the man shook his head. “Nothing to be scared of.” He pointed at the stone. “Roll it between your fingers, feel the smoothness even though it hasn’t been cut yet.”
I obeyed, stroking the cloudy diamond and feeling the same strange warmth emitting as my necklace. “It feels alive.”
The man nodded. “The heat from the lamps keep them temperate, but it also comes from the diamond itself. There’s an old tale that true diamonds could heat the world. That they hold enough life and love in each stone that we would never be cold again.”
Sadness fell over me. Jethro worked with heat-giving diamonds, yet I’d never known anyone so cold. “If that’s true, I should be forever hot.”
The man chuckled, reaching to stroke my collar. His chair squeaked as his belly dug into the table. “That you should.” His head cocked, eyes feasting on the Weaver Wailer. “I’ve seen those stones before. They’re old...very old.” He frowned, then his face shocked white as he stole the rock from my hand.
My heart raced. “When...when did you see them?”
He pursed his lips, keeping his eyes downcast. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. Go on, carry on looking...there are much prettier rocks a few trays away.”
I touched his knuckles, sickness and dread swimming in my veins. “You saw her, didn’t you?”
He froze. “Saw who?”
I sighed heavily as my mother appeared in my mind. She’d been here. She’d lived through everything I had—a carbon copy of myself. “A woman with shoulder-length black hair, dark eyes, and high cheekbones.” My voice trailed to a whisper. “I’ve been told we look similar...you don’t need to deny it. You saw my mother.”
The man swallowed. “I don’t think I’m allowed to talk about the past, Miss.” His eyes shot upward to the office. “Shit.”
His curse was out of character. I looked up.
My heart fell into my toes.
Jethro.
He stood on the metal staircase, halfway down. One hand on the banister, the other in his trouser pocket. His requisite diamond pin glinted on his lapel looking small compared to the size of some of the stones surrounding us. The lights dazzled, causing his golden eyes to sparkle like the champagne diamonds on the tray before me—just as unique and perfectly cold. Unlike the diamond I’d held, there was nothing flawed about this man.
Apart from his mind, of course.
The more time I spent with him, the more confident I was that Jethro and I were the same in that respect.
I had a physical imbalance. My body hadn’t mastered the art of equilibrium and occasionally malfunctioned. Jethro, on the other hand, had a mental imbalance but in what I hadn’t figured out.
You have a sneaking suspicion, though.
Ever since speaking to Vaughn when we watched one line instead of two appear on the pregnancy test, I’d wondered. Could it be that obvious? Or that surprising?
I need to see Jasmine again.
I hadn’t forgotten the way she’d sobbed as I left—not for me, but her brother. She knew everything, and it was time she shared that knowledge.
Jethro descended the stairs, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Best move along,” the man whispered.
I didn’t want to get him in trouble, but I couldn’t move.
Jethro glided toward us, his gaze narrowed against the glare of the lights.
“Are you enjoying your time inspecting the merchandise, Ms. Weaver?” Jethro smiled curtly at the man beside me. “Christopher, I hope you are indulging my guest’s every whim.”
Christopher swallowed, a droplet of sweat running down his naked chest. “Um, yes, sir.” He shot me a glance, awkwardness all over his face.
I felt sorry for him but furious for my mother. Grabbing Jethro’s arm, I pulled him away from Christopher’s table. Anger bubbled in my veins. “He was kind and helpful and under no circumstances will you discipline him, but he told me something interesting.” Looping my fingers beneath my choker, I growled, “He said he’d seen my collar before.”
Jethro stopped breathing.
“I’m assuming that meant my mother was brought here.”
He didn’t reply.
“She was given the same privileges, wasn’t she? Because everything she learned was destroyed when Cut took her life.”
He balled his hands.
Suddenly, it was all too much. I sighed. “Don’t worry. I won’t force you to talk. I won’t ever attempt to make you do anything again. Can we just leave? I want to go home.”
The minute I said it, visions of my quarters at Hawksridge came to mind...not home in London with Vaughn. I groaned under my breath. Even my memories had replaced my past with all things Hawk.
Jethro still didn’t say a word, his pale skin growing whiter the longer he stared.
I stared right back.
His body vibrated the longer we stood in silence.
Then, he snapped.
Stealing my wrist, he stormed down the aisle, dragging me with him. “Goddammit, why must everything in my fucking life be so hard?”
“Wait.” I tugged on his hold. “Where are we going?”
“Quiet.”
I looked back to the office; perhaps that massive Pure Corruption biker could save me? If I told him everything—would I stand a chance at getting free? “Where did Kill go?”
“Gone.”
“Back to Florida?”
Would I be safe from you if I flew to America?
“No, to the next warehouse to pick up what we promised.”
I stumbled; the pace Jethro set was manic. “What did you promise?”
“Something in return for something else.”
“What something else?”
“He’s a genius with numbers—hides dirty money in many ways.”
“And what does he get?”
Jethro groaned under his breath. “Questions. Always bloody questions with you.”
I shrugged. “As Kestrel said, I’ve dug my own grave. My questions can be answered now.”
Including the ones I really want to know. Like who you truly are and why you won’t let me in!
Coming to the end of the warehouse, he opened a door and dragged me down an empty corridor. At the end of that, there was a single exit. It looked like a janitor’s closet, but the moment he opened it, it revealed a ginormous silver barricade with a keypad and spin dial.
Letting me go to enter in codes and spin the dial, he scowled. “Fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you.” The mechanism snicked open and the air pressure shifted a little. With a grunt, he yanked the thick vault open and motioned me to enter.
Deciding to obey and avoid his biting fingers, I entered the large safe.
Jethro followed, sighing in relief at the temperature change. Inside was bright but cool—the buzz of air-conditioners kept the space chilly compared to the warm warehouse.
I expected to see stacks of cash and precious gems, but all that existed were walls of gunmetal grey safety deposit boxes.
“You asked. I’ll tell.” Waving at the space, Jethro said, “All of this is to control the world we live in. We’re untouchable because of these tiny pieces of rock. We’ve built an empire on wealth accumulated from a single incident in our past that enabled us to leap over the heads of the Weavers and prove that they might’ve owned England back then but we own it now.”
“But how? Surely a mine would dry up after a time?”
“We don’t just have one mine, Ms. Weaver. We have dozens all around the world.”
Having my questions answered was a novelty—a saving grace. I never wanted to stop. “Where?”
“We mine diamonds in Africa, rubies in India, sapphires in Thailand, emeralds in Pakistan. We have the world’s most exclusive catchment of Alexandrite—one of the rarest stones—and we also have this...”
Jethro moved to the back wall and used a key to open a safety deposit box. Pulling it out, the drawer went on for ages—a long grey finger sliding free from a wallpaper of squares.
Another twist of a key and the lid opened.
Without a word, Jethro reached into the shallow box and pulled out a red velvet pouch. Stitched into the plush material was the emblem for the Black Diamonds with his initials on the front.
The JKH was exactly the same as the one on my fingers.
My heart raced as he undid the strings, moving toward me. “Hold out your hand.”
I didn’t hesitate.
Jethro tipped the velvet pouch, plopping into my palm the blackest, richest, most incredible stone I’d ever seen. It looked like the devil’s apple from the Garden of Eden. Large and gleaming and wrong. The weight alone made me grasp it with two hands. “Wow.”
“The largest black diamond ever found.”
The stone was uncut but still shone as if it were alive—as if it sensed me holding it and had eyes looking back at me. My skin tingled. I wanted to put it down—somehow I knew it didn’t like me. “How big is it?”
“Six hundred carats.” Jethro came closer, his spicy aftershave clouding around me. “It’s the reason why we are what we are.”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
Jethro stole the stone, holding it up to the spotlight in the ceiling. “It was the third diamond my ancestors ever found. They didn’t know what it was—we didn’t know then that diamonds come in colours—pink, yellow, blue. They thought it was obsidian. But they knew they had something special. When they returned to England, they researched it. They had the top specialist from the Crown Jewels make an assessment.”
He twisted the rock, his face pensive. “When they were told it was a black diamond, the name stuck. The men who’d helped my ancestors find it immediately became known by that name.” He smiled. “Fancy that...a piece of history and you didn’t have to pay a debt to hear it.”
Chills scattered down my arms.
Up until that second, I’d revelled in hearing how the Hawks came into power. But he’d ruined it. Just like everything.
“How did your family go from serving my ancestors to mining massive rocks?”
Jethro shook his head. “That piece of information will come with a price.”
“What price?”
Jethro pulled me into his body, his hardness instantly igniting my blood. “A debt, naturally.”
I winced. “Can we not mention those again? Not when it’s just us.”
His eyes fell on my lips. “When it’s just us, it’s even more dangerous to talk...about anything.” His head bowed; a lock of tinsel hair kissed his forehead. “I have something I need to ask.” He tensed. “Not ask...demand.”
“I prefer it if you just asked. You should know by now if you give into me, I’d do anything for you.”
He let me go. “I need you to watch what you feel around me.”
My mouth parted. “What?”
His eyes darted around the space, searching for help in silent corners. “I can’t explain it, but whatever you think of me, whatever you think of the way I’ve treated you since you came back, keep it to yourself. Don’t hate me. Don’t love me. Don’t fear me. Put up a wall and just stop.”
“You’re asking me to stop feeling?” I gasped. “That’s like asking someone to stop breathing, Jethro. It’s not possible.”
He dragged a hand over his face. “Things changed, Nila, and if you want to remain mine—you have to do this for me.”
Ice water replaced my blood. “Remain yours?” Drifting forward, I touched his forearm. “He threatened you, didn’t he?” My heart lurched, blooming bright with the love I’d tried to smother. Whatever Jethro was or did, he did care for me, and that was why he suffered. “What did he do?”
Jethro backed away, his face twisting. “Nothing. That’s one question I won’t answer. Just do as I ask and your existence will continue without hardship.”
I laughed softly. “You don’t get it. Having you distant from me is the worst hardship of all.” Taking his hand, I placed it over my heart. “You can’t see the scars you’re leaving on me but they’re there, Jethro. As surely as the scars on my back from your whip.”
“I can’t keep doing this,” he breathed, his shoulders caving.
“Can’t keep doing what?”
“I can’t keep doing this.” He pushed me away, holding up the dark stone. “A black diamond is completely different to a white one.”
I struggled to switch topics.
Why is he changing the subject?
“They have a different crystalline structure. They don’t sparkle because they don’t refract light.” His eyes glittered. “They absorb it.”
Where is he going with this?
“Like you? Absorbing Weaver lives.”
He didn’t answer, sadness darkening his face. “White diamonds are windows for light to bounce and reflect. Black diamonds are souls—sucking in everything, ingesting their environment and giving nothing in return.”
His voice bristled with depth—it wasn’t just about the stone. He’s trying to tell me something...
My hands twitched to grab him. My lips burned to connect with his.
Tell me!
He couldn’t look at me. He couldn’t even admit what he revealed. However, the diamond was no longer an innate object—but him.
He absorbed and ingested. He was a direct product of his surroundings.
“You’ve absorbed me...” I breathed.
My voice shattered Jethro’s confession, snapping him into ice. “Time to go.” Slipping the mysterious black diamond back into its home, he locked the safety deposit box and took my hand.
I never mentioned the stone again.
Not during the long drive home with Kes.
Not lying in bed that night.
Jethro had finally admitted the truth.
And I had no idea what it meant.
