“Happy isn’t a word I know anymore.” I bared my teeth. “She wouldn’t have signed that without being threatened. I don’t care what you say.”

That fleeting afternoon when my mother returned home, adorned with the diamond collar and hugging me so tightly, came to mind. She’d been terrified but resigned. Broken but strong. I hadn’t understood back then, but now I did.

She’d reached the same stage I had. The stage where nothing else mattered but getting even, claiming justice.

There’s a point to this meeting.

My heart froze solid, finally understanding. “I won’t sign anything. I can assure you of that. You might as well pack up and piss off because I’ll tear apart anything you put in front of me.”

Jasmine growled; Cut merely chuckled. “I’m sure if you did that, you’d make Daniel a very happy man.”

Daniel draped an arm over me. “Oh, please, Weaver. Do it for me. You have my full permission to refuse the amendment and cut Jaz out of the updated terms.”

“Like hell she will.” Jasmine looped her fingers together in aggression. “You’ll sign, Nila. You’ll see.”

I didn’t reply, glaring at the table instead.

Marshall shuffled the paper. “All right, let’s carry on.” Pinching the top sheet from the newest looking tower, he pushed it toward me. “This is the latest amendment and requires your signature.”

My blood charged through overheated veins. “I told you—”

“Shut it.” Jasmine snatched the paper and stabbed the bottom where an empty box waited for my life to spill upon it. “Do it. It’s your only choice.”

Our eyes locked. Not only did I hate her for what she’d done and how much she’d tricked me, but I hated that she looked so much like him.

Jethro.

The shape of her nose. The curve of her cheekbones. She was the closest in appearance to him, and it hurt to hate someone who looked so much like the man I loved.

“I told you. I’m not signing anything.”

Jaz’s cheeks flushed. I wouldn’t put it past her to slap me. In fact, I wanted her to because then I’d have an excuse to fight with a girl in a wheelchair.

Could I kill her? Could I slide my blade into her heart all while knowing Jethro had cared for her?

He was tricked…same as me.

I would honour his memory by destroying yet another person who’d betrayed him.

Hartwell shifted in his chair. “You don’t know the terms yet. Listen before being hasty.”

Jasmine tore her eyes away from mine, glaring at the lawyer. “The terms being that I have full right to both Weavers, Nila and Vaughn. In return, Daniel can have the estate and all monetary wealth that comes from being heir.”

I flinched, shivering in the sudden arctic hatred she projected.

“That has been discussed, Ms. Jasmine. I feel you’ll be satisfied with the arrangements.”

Jasmine sniffed haughtily. “Discussions aren’t conclusions. There is no negotiation on the matter. I want to extract the Fourth and Final Debt. That right is mine.”

“Jasmine, calm down. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied with the new arrangement.” Cut held out his hand. “Give me the contract, Hartwell. Let me see everything has been noted before we make it official.”

Marshall stole the paper from me and slid it up the table.

Cut caught it; he took his time reading, his eyes darting over fine print.

I breathed hard, suffering a crushing weight of grief and revulsion.

He’s dead.

But they’re not.

Why couldn’t Cut and Bonnie be dead instead of Jethro and Kestrel?

Because life is never fair and it’s up to me to carve out justice.

Jasmine remained rigid until Cut finally raised his eyes and shot the contract over the satin wood toward us. “I’m happy with that. The Fourth Debt will be repaid slightly differently to the rest, but that will be another discussion.” His eyes met his children’s. “In this case, three signatures will be required—Nila, Dan, and Jaz.”

He made it sound like a school permission slip for us all to go play happily together.

I snorted, rolling my eyes.

Cut gave me a stern look.

Samuel Cole, who hadn’t made a sound since I’d arrived, spoke up. “In that case, it is my duty to advise all of you that this new clause will be forever known as amendment 1-345-132.”

My eyes widened. How many amendments had there been to warrant such a crazy number?

Judging by the stacks of paperwork…a lot.  Far too many. Was there anything left of the original contract?

Mr. Cole continued, “Due to the unfortunate deaths of the firstborn, Jethro Hawk…”

Pain slammed into me.

Agony tore out my heart.

Misery crumbled me into dust.

Jethro.

God, I wish you hadn’t left me.

I couldn’t sit up straight; howling winds of grief ripped me apart. I hunched into myself, holding my ribcage to keep from sobbing.

I managed to remain silent.

But Jasmine didn’t.

Her lip wobbled, tears streaking her cheeks. She cracked, but it didn’t last long. Sucking in a breath, she reached into the small satchel attached to her wheelchair and pulled out another handkerchief.

Bowing her head, she dabbed at her eyes.

My lips twisted in disgust. “I don’t buy your crocodile tears. Don’t bother putting on a show when I know you were part of this murder from the start.”