Diamond smuggling was fucking dangerous. Not only was the law out to prosecute, but every sticky-fingered arsehole wanted a piece. Diamonds were the easiest, most convenient way to move wealth—small but worth a fortune. The Black Diamonds had formed, not for the love of riding and a brotherhood of like-minded bikers, but purely to kick the shit out of anyone who managed to get close enough to rob us.
Before, we’d moved merchandise with armoured vans and suits in broad daylight. But vans were such easy targets—so damn obvious.
So, we’d evolved.
Ten bikers…six with diamond cargo, four without. We rode in formation with guns armed and ready to defend. Police scanners kept us off roads where roadblocks were prevalent, and our fierce notoriety steadily grew.
Robberies were still attempted—shit, they always would be. Opportunists would give anything to intercept even a small shipment. Who wouldn’t for an easy catchment of over three million pounds’ worth of stones?
But we never chose the same route twice, we never let thieves walk away with their lives, and we earned the reputation of ruthless murderers.
After dealing with Nila and the mess she caused inside me, I’d craved an ambush. I’d wanted some motherfuckers to pounce, so I could give myself to mayhem and teach them a lesson. I’d wanted a fight.
But the night remained silent apart from our grumbling machines, and the delivery went smoothly.
By the time I crawled into bed at four a.m., I suffered a knot of tension in my gut and no amount of fantasising about fucking Nila could stop it. I’d laid in bed going over what happened in the forest. I gripped my cock and imagined sliding inside her and showing her once and for fucking all she couldn’t win—no matter that she had. I’d never had an orgasm so intense, so draining. Her mouth had been alchemy. The release she’d given left me silent inside…but different to the icy silence I’d been taught to wield.
I’d been sated enough to permit my barriers to drop, to relax for the first time in my life.
And I wanted to hurt her for making me feel that. To glimpse an alternative to the one I’d been taught. But no matter how much I wanted to teach her a lesson, I also wanted to drive her insane with pleasure, so she felt what I did.
“I can walk on my own, you know.” Nila tugged her wrist, trying to free herself from my grip.
Our feet—mine in dress shoes, hers in flip-flops—whispered down the plush red-carpeted corridor. “I like knowing you have no choice but to follow my every footstep, Ms. Weaver.”
She growled under her breath.
Turning a corner, I took her down a different route. I had no reason other than to confuse her. She would have no idea where we were going until the final second.
“Wow.” Nila lagged behind, her eyes fixated on the perimeter and the huge wall hangings. The beautiful tapestries hung from brass rods two stories high. Depictions of hunting mythical creatures—blood spurting from unicorns and griffons impaled on spikes—were the cheery décor.
“Who did all these? Was it your ancestors?”
I chuckled. “You think we’re skilled at arts and crafts?” Shaking my head, I said, “We aren’t weavers or sewers. We have much more important things to do.”
“Like hunt?”
I nodded. “Amongst other pastimes.”
“So who did them?”
I scowled. “Why do you think there has to be a link between something appealing to the eye and history? Diamonds buy a lot of things, Ms. Weaver. There comes a time when wealth transforms, and purchasing works of art is one of them.”
She shuddered, looking away.
Why the fuck did she shudder? It was the way of the world. Everybody knew that the rich grew richer, and the poor sold their souls for a piece of it.
Silence fell awkwardly between us as we traversed the distance to the other wing of the house. I’d spent an entire lifetime in this monolithic prison and still managed to get lost.
Turning the last corner, Nila slammed to a halt.
My lips twitched at the corners. “Recognise something?”
Her dark eyes widened with horror. “You can’t take me in there.”
“I can and I will.”
Before us rested the huge double doors of the dining room.
Nila squirmed in my hold. “You said I was to pay the First Debt. I’ve already paid the one where your foul associates licked me. You can’t mean to repeat it.”
I growled, “What time is it?”
Her face went blank. “Excuse me?”
I pointed down the hall, where the sun beamed through the French doors at the end. “It’s morning. I was out late last night working up an appetite, and it’s that time when people typically eat.”
“Breakfast?” she squeaked. “You’re making me eat in the same room where your awful family—”
“No need to repeat the facts, Ms. Weaver. I’m fully aware of what happened to you in there. Unfortunately for you, I don’t care. I’m hungry. You’re hungry. We have a big day ahead of us, and it’s time for fucking breakfast.”
Her head tilted as the curse fell from my mouth.
Goddammit to fucking hell.
Why did I have to end up with a Weaver who seemed to tap into a never-ending well of strength and intelligence? Her question before hadn’t stopped ringing in my ears: “What did you do?”
How had she seen my transformation so clearly, so shrewdly? Even my own family didn’t notice things like that—only if I went too far did they ever intervene. I had to keep her at arm’s length if I had any hope of hiding my true self.
I leaned down to her level, my eyes disobeying my command not to stray to her lips. So pink and full, just the memory of having them wrapped around my cock made me ripple with need.
You want to kiss her.
I crucified that thought immediately. A kiss was connection—a kiss could never happen, because I wanted no connection with this woman. I couldn’t.
“I agree it’s morning and we should eat, but please, Jethro, take me somewhere else. Hell, give me a picnic in the kennels. Just don’t take me into that room.”
The plea in her voice disgusted me. I preferred her when she remained defiant, rather than begging. “No arguing. Gemstone is always held in this room. We won’t break tradition for anyone, especially you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Gemstone?”
“Our biweekly meeting with the Diamond brothers. While you were relaxing the past few days, some of us were working. The meeting is a recap of dealings and revenue, and you’re a Hawk now. You get to be privy to our inner empire. Lucky, wouldn’t you say?”
She tried to jerk her wrist from my hold. It didn’t work. “And if I don’t want to be a part of it?”
I smirked. “Do you really think you have a choice?”
We glowered at each other.
Placing my palm on the doors, I pushed them open and pulled her into the room where her induction had taken place.
I looked over at Nila.
She sat wedged between Kestrel and Flaw. For the first twenty minutes of the meeting, she’d been jumpy, angry, and downright livid to be back in the room with the same men who’d seen and tasted every morsel of her.
Now, an hour into the meeting, she’d stopped hissing whenever a brother asked her a polite question, and had even eaten half of her salmon and poached eggs with hollandaise sauce. She’d refused coffee, which reminded me of how she didn’t drink the one I bought her in Milan, and her body language was so fucking uptight, I expected her to pass out from muscle exhaustion any second.
For the past sixty minutes, we’d discussed the successful transaction last night, the rare delivery of a diamond over twenty-six carats next week, and the on-going politics in Sierra Leone. Boring stuff for an outsider.
She isn’t an outsider. She’s ours now.
More often than I wished, I caught myself watching her, my eyes seeming to land on her, regardless of who was speaking. She was the only splash of colour in the line-up of men on her side of the table—a peach fiesta smack in the middle of leather-jacketed bikers.
“Now that we’ve got the basics out of the way, Jethro, do you have anything to report?” Cut looked down the table, surveying his good disciples.
I stiffened in my chair as all eyes turned on me, including Nila’s. Last night had been fucking boring. I had nothing to add. Now that I’d eaten, I just wanted to leave, get the debt over with, and go for a ride. I needed to get out of this place and away from these people.
“No, nothing to add. You’ve covered it.”
Daniel snickered, his dark hair spiked with too much gel. “Yeah, Pop, you’ve gone over the boring shit. Let’s get to the good part.”
Nila froze; her dark eyes glared, shooting hatred across the table toward my younger brother.
Couldn’t say I blamed her; the feeling was mutual.
Daniel sneered at Nila, licking his lips and blowing her a kiss. “I want to see how our guest reacts.”
My fists clenched on the table.
Kestrel shifted beside her, nudging her shoulder with his. Loud enough for his voice to carry, he said, “It’s okay, Nila. You’re on the sane side of the table. I won’t let him touch you.”
Nila tensed as her head swivelled to look at him. Her eyes searched his, her chin cocked in a strange mixture of defiance and curiosity.
The second turned into a drawn-out moment, and still they stared.
What the fuck?
Finally, Nila nodded, her black ponytail draping over her shoulder. Never tearing her gaze from Kes, she said softly, “Thank you.”
Kes beamed, his golden eyes, the trait all Hawk men carried, glowed. “You’re welcome.” Something passed between them. Something I fucking hated.
Running a hand through his dark, silver-flecked hair, Kes tore his eyes from Nila’s to look directly into mine. “You only have to come to me if you ever feel overwhelmed.”
That lowlife bastard.
My hands balled in my lap. “Enough.”
Kes reclined in his chair, dropping his forearm—the one tattooed with a bird of prey—beneath the table.
Nila jumped a mile.
He’d touched her! That goddamn arsehole touched what was mine.
The instant Nila jolted, Kes pulled away, a smug smile on his lips. “Sorry.”
“Don’t touch me,” Nila hissed.
Something warm sprang from nowhere in my chest. Warm? How was that possible when my heart was full of snow?
My lips twitched, smugness of my own unable to be hidden. Nila might be intrigued or even drawn to Kes, but it was my cock that’d been in her mouth, my tongue that’d been in that pretty cunt of hers.
Kestrel’s suave smile dropped. He always did think too highly of himself. Just because the club whores preferred him, it didn’t mean he was better than the rest of us. He was my favourite person; however, I would not tolerate him poaching my prey.
Kes hung his head, turning on the charm and magic puppy-dog eyes that twisted the knickers off many women. “I only meant to offer comfort. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
Nila crossed her arms, breathing shallowly. Before she could respond, a Diamond brother muttered from across the table, “Yes, I’m sorry if we offended you the other day.”
Nila’s head shot up.
Daniel thumped him in the arm. “What the fuck, man?”
Stupid Daniel.
He didn’t understand how unravelling a person’s psyche went. First came cruelty—a stripping of every high and mighty concept that they were untouchable. Then came tenderness—an acknowledgement of going too far and promises of safety.
This was the second stage.
I’d seen it happen with Nila’s mother. I’d witnessed the bewitchment as she fell under my father’s spell.
That’s going to happen to Nila.
My heart froze at the thought of her looking at me the way her mother looked at my father. Not with fear or panic or loathing but with trust and happiness and…affection.
“Excuse me?” she whispered, almost mute with shock.
The brother who’d spoken, an older man with a goatee, smiled gently. “You have to understand, it was our way of welcoming you into our midst. You do not need to be afraid of us.”
She squared her shoulders. “I’m not afraid.”
I swallowed hard as a foreign emotion crawled into my chest. Goddammit. Jealousy. Again. I was fucking jealous of the men around this table. I wanted to rip their heads off for tasting what was mine.
Don’t go there, Jet.
My father was right to give her to the brotherhood the moment she arrived. If he demanded I strip and deliver her for a round of service again, I would draw a sword from the armoury on the walls and strike him down.
I would never be able to stand behind his chair now. Even though only a few days had passed, so much had happened. Nila had evolved into someone who drove me past rationality and straight into the chaos she wielded so well.
While Nila had been licked and tasted, I’d fought an unwinnable battle of possession. I’d said the words—I went along with the act of sharing her—but that was fucking bullshit now…
Now, I would never be able to share.
Never.
She was mine.
Not my brothers’, not my father’s, and definitely not the conclave of bikers, who by rights were my minions.
Mine.
Another brother broke through my tormenting thoughts, saying to Nila, “It was a special circumstance to welcome you into our family. We were all honoured to have you become a part of us.”
Nila’s face twisted in disgust. “A part of you?”
I jumped in before anyone else could. Ingrates. There was a way of delivering this so it made sense, not repulsed. “We all tasted you. We all licked a part of you and absorbed your sweat, your tears, your fears. No other initiation could’ve broken the barriers between newcomers and old-timers better than stripping you bare.”