Chapter Nila
Nila
––––––––
MY OLD HEART was broken.
It’d been replaced with something not of flesh and blood but diamond and immortality.
I’d fallen for a smuggler, a biker—a fiend.
I’d fallen for a boy from my past, a man from my future—a friend.
For four days after the polo match, I didn’t see Jethro. I didn’t try to find him or turn on my phone to message him. We had things to talk about, but I liked the newly blossomed connection too much to overthink it.
I missed him but understood him.
Understood what he’d be going through.
For four days, I spent most of my time sewing and cutting out patterns for a sequence of gowns that would be the headline pieces of my new design.
On a daily basis, my mind hurled profanities at me; reminding me that I lived on borrowed time.
That the Hawks were not to be trusted. That I should run and never look back.
But my heart argued just as loudly. Encouraging me to believe in what I’d found with Jethro. To trust that I had the power to change our fate. To give us a bit more time.
I didn’t know how yet, but there could be a happy ending.
There has to be.
Hawksridge Hall was quiet—more so than normal. Most of the Black Diamond brothers, including the Hawks, were busy with a large shipment that I’d heard held a pink diamond weighing in excess of eighteen carats.
I’d lingered in the dining room long enough to know that such a stone was almost priceless and would fetch untold millions on the black market.
At night, I slept in my luxurious bed and pondered all things Jethro. I became self-absorbed—completely wrapped up in my feelings for him.
A small part of me hated the woman I’d become. The old Nila would never have removed herself so completely from her family—especially Vaughn.
But at the same time—they removed me.
And Jethro had taken me in.
However, there was no denying that my soul was torn and bruised.
Jethro had given me everything beneath the grandstand that day, and by doing so, he robbed me of my hate and the power of injustice that kept me fighting every day.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t right.
But there was no changing the will of a Weaver’s heart.
I was alone now. More so than when I’d first arrived.
I would never be welcomed back with my family, never be able to return home.
Jethro had successfully torn me from my past, stripped me of my mind, and abducted my heart.
I wasn’t okay with that.
I couldn’t be.
And that was why I had to do the same to him.
I stroked the diamonds around my neck. I’d come here believing I would never be strong enough to fight. But unbeknownst to Cut, he’d brought a disease into his home. Day-by-day, I undermined his foundations, stealing what was his from beneath him.
I had the tools to continue to wreak havoc...all but one, that is.
I needed one last thing to make my arsenal complete.
It was time to know where Jethro disappeared to.
It’s time to find out what exists behind the door on the second floor.
I looked at the clock above the fish tank in my room. Just past midnight.
I’d heard the men rumble off in a smog of motorcycle smoke an hour ago. If there were any night to investigate—tonight was it.
The corridors would be empty, and Daniel would be far away from delivering his threats of harm.
Resolution filled my veins. I sat up in bed and swung my legs over the side.
It took me two minutes to pull on a pair of yoga pants and slip into an old hoody before collecting my ruby-encrusted dirk and shoving it down my waistband.
With my heart thundering, I slipped out the door and padded down the corridor.
My ears strained for night prowlers. I tiptoed to every corner and dashed quickly past cameras blinking above the large tapestries.
Hawksridge Hall breathed deep and dreamless—vacant of its usual inhabitations, letting me slink beneath the moonlight undisturbed.
I found the spiral staircase where Jethro had dragged me up and scurried to the top as fast as I could. If I stood at the bottom and deliberated, my bravery might desert me.
My fingertip itched, almost as if it knew this was the floor where Jethro had etched his initials into my skin.
I peered above the paintings, locking onto the flashing red lights of yet more cameras. There seemed to be more on this level...protecting something. Protecting what?
I did my best to walk beneath them, to try to stay out of range, but I didn’t know the first thing about dodging a security feed.
Jethro would know where I’d been.
He’d be able to watch my every recorded movement. And even though I feared the retribution I might face, it didn’t stop me from sneaking to the door he’d knocked on.
The moment I stood outside, my heart switched from pounding to frantic.
What the hell are you doing?
What did I think I would do? Knock and ask politely why Jethro came up here when he ran from me? Did I perhaps think I could turn invisible and snoop around a room while the woman I’d heard slumbered?
You’re an idiot.
I stood there dumbstruck. I should never have come.
My lungs stuck together as something rustled on the other side of the door. A soft light seeped through the crack below, bathing the carpet in a warm glow.
I swallowed my yelp as a shadow interrupted the light, pausing the same way I had.
I took a step back. Stupid. So stupid, Nila.
No one in this house was safe to go visiting late at night. I wanted to slap myself for being so stupid. I’d put myself in moronic danger.
My fingers reached for my pilfered knife.
I turned to leave, fear dousing my blood with ice.
The sooner I was back in my quarters, the safer I would be.
“You can come in, you know,” a quiet feminine voice said.
I froze.
No one spoke, waiting for the other.
A never-ending minute ticked past before the voice came again. “I won’t tell and I won’t hurt you. I can see you lurking outside my door. I have a camera mounted outside, so unless you want to run and pretend this never happened, I suggest you come in before my brothers or father find you up here.”
My stomach rolled; a sickening wave of vertigo crippled me. I stumbled forward, grasping at the wall.
I sucked in large breaths, repeating Vaughn’s poem for me.
Find an anchor, hold on tight.
Do that and you’ll be alright.
The spell disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. It pissed me off. I thought I’d learned to control them better. Turned out my body was toying with me. Making me believe I had one less problem to worry about, when in reality, it was just biding its time.
“You don’t look well. Come in. Please. Let’s talk.” The soft voice encouraged and seduced and I craved somewhere to sit for a moment.
Gritting my teeth, I pressed down on the door handle and entered the room where Jethro visited.
My eyes darted around the large space. Lemons and greys and colourful carpets. Sweeping fleur-de-lis silver curtains framed a huge wraparound window with a comfy seat big enough for a whole family of bookworms to curl up on and read.
“You must be the new Weaver.”
I bit my lip, spinning on the spot. I missed her in the first sweep. She’d been so still, so well hidden in the welcoming décor.
I found her sitting beside her bed in a large chair covered by a coral blanket. “You needn’t fear. I’ll delete the recording. No one will know you came here.”
I should’ve relaxed in gratitude. Instead, I stiffened.
I stared at the female equivalent of Jethro.
Out of all of Jethro’s siblings, his sister looked the most like him.
Jethro was the diamond—sharp, faceted, and so pristinely perfect he shot rainbows from every angle.
This woman was the mirror image. Her dark hair was sliced with precision, hanging like a silk curtain just past her jaw.
Her eyes were more bronze than gold while her round cheeks and full lips were the direct contradiction of sweet but sultry.
I drifted forward, stumbling a little as my vertigo played with the outskirts of my vision.
The woman didn’t move, just waited for me to go to her.
Her fingers locked together in her lap, her entire lower half covered by the plush blanket.
When I stood awkwardly in front of her, she motioned toward her bed. The covers hadn’t been turned down and it didn’t look slept in. The crisp yellow of her linen looked like a lemon meringue pie and just as delicious.
“Sit, please.”
I sat. Not because of her order, but because my wobbly legs refused to stand any longer. Who was this woman, and why did she look at me as if she knew everything about me?
I blushed.
Everything?
God, I hoped not. How could I face Jethro’s sister if she knew how much I wanted him? How could I look her in the eye knowing I’d had her brother inside me, and despite my conflicted emotions, wanted him every second of every damn day?
“Do you talk or did you make a vow of silence before entering my room?” The woman cocked her head, her hair cascading perfectly in glossy heaviness.
Shaking my head, I swallowed. “No. No, vow.”
We stared at each other. Her assessing me and me assessing her. Two women of similar age, with a man in the centre polluting our right to be strangers. We’d only just met, but whatever we said would be weighed and found wanting, knowing we weren’t on equal footing.
The thought depressed me.
She held a permanent place in Jethro’s life. He openly adored her—I could tell just by looking at her.
I was jealous.
I was sad and happy at the same time.
I hadn’t come here looking to make a friend, but I hadn’t come here expecting to find her, either.
“Should we start simple or would you rather get to the heart of the matter?”
I shifted higher on her bed. “I think starting with the truth would be more beneficial. Don’t you?”
A ghost of a smile tilted her lips. “Ah, now I get it.”
“Get what?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why my brother is struggling.”
My heart flip-flopped. “Jethro?”
She nodded.
“How is he struggling?” I didn’t dare hope for an answer. Could it truly be that easy?