Nila #2
I sat frozen on Mr. Hawk’s lap.
His hand rested on my upper thigh, not violating but terrifying.
“Now that we all understand each other, I want you to look at something for me, Nila. Then the festivities will begin. Every man you serve, you’ll receive another snippet of your history.
Only once you’ve completed your task will you know the entire story and will be free to spend the afternoon either in the steam baths below the house as a reward or in solitary confinement in the dungeons as punishment, depending on how well you please us. ”
I couldn’t understand how my body still functioned. Shock turned my limbs to statues, fear made me mute—I died inside until there was no part of me left. But still my heart kept pumping; my blood kept flowing—staying alive only for their sick pleasure.
The weight of my mother’s collar bit into my neck and a question came from no-where. My mother was a Weaver. Her mother before her was a Weaver. But wouldn’t they have changed their names according to the surname of their husbands?
I blinked, trying to remember my father’s last name.
I can’t.
“You look confused. I’ll permit you to ask a question before we proceed,” Mr. Hawk said, settling me higher on his knee.
I fought my cringe, struggling to formulate the words. “My mother’s maiden name was Weaver, but she would’ve changed it when she got married.” I glanced at Jethro behind his father’s chair. He tilted his chin, looking down his nose.
Mr. Hawk shook his head. “That son of mine hasn’t explained anything has he.
” Twisting in the seat, he glanced at Jethro.
“What exactly have you been doing? You know information is what grants us control. We’re the ones in the right.
How can she hope to accept her situation if you keep her in the dark? ”
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.
Mr. Hawk grinned. “Glad you’re coming to your senses.
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.
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.