The lawyers shuffled and stacked their files. No one was fussed that Jaz had just announced every sordid detail. That she’d admitted to holding me and my twin hostage or that they callously planned a double homicide.

And why would they?

They belonged body, heart, and soul to the devil born Hawks.

Marshall pointed at the piles of paperwork. “Mr. Hawk has advised me that you were shown the original document labelled the Debt Inheritance. Is that correct, Ms. Weaver?”

My muscles quaked with the need to bolt or fight. Both would be preferable. Sitting sandwiched between Jaz and Daniel only wound me tighter.

My mind ran with profanity.

Fuck you.

“Answer him, Nila,” Cut said.

“You already know that that’s correct.”

Marshall warmed to his task, finally having one of his questions answered without Armageddon breaking out.

God, I wish you were here, Jethro. Sitting beside me, granting me strength.

I was all alone.

“Fantastic. Well, that document is just the first of many that you’re about to become acquainted with.” Laying his hand on the oldest looking stack, he lowered his voice. “These documents are the originals, passed down through our firm and our connection with the Hawks to keep safe and protected. In here exists every note, amendment, and requested clause update. It has been lodged in accordance with the times and royals in power, drifting through kings, queens, and ultimately, prime ministers and diplomats.”

My headache came back at the nonsense he spouted. “You’re telling me people in power kept signing these…when they knew all along what it was?”

Hartwell Backham answered, his voice rich as burnished copper. “Don’t underestimate the power of a family crest or the name of the oldest law firm in England. We have garnered centuries of goodwill, and our clients sign what we suggest. They trust our judgement and don’t have time for consuming activities such as reading every document that crosses their tables.”

There was so much wrong with that sentence, it astounded me.

“You’re saying that—”

Marshall interrupted me, doing what Cut had told him and powering through my retaliation. “Over the years, the Debt Inheritance has had to…how shall I say? Adapt.”

I couldn’t argue. I couldn’t win.

All I could do was sit and silently seethe.

“All contracts are amended at some point or another, and this is no different.” Marshall uncapped his fountain pen. “I hope that’s self-explanatory, so I can skip to the next topic.”

“No, it isn’t self-explanatory.” I snarled, “What you’re saying is all this talk of being set in stone and law-abiding is actually not—it’s revised to suit your benefits with no input from my family?”

My stomach roiled at the unfairness. How could they change the rules and tote it over our heads like gospel? How could they notarise something without both parties agreeing?

Who were these corrupt, money-grubbing lawyers?

Cut tutted under his breath. “Don’t force me to gag you, Ms. Weaver.” His eyes blackened as if I’d offended his moral code.

What moral code?

He was scum.

“Everything we do is within the parameters set by our current law. We’ve made sure nothing is carried out until it’s first written, signed, and witnessed.”

“Even rape and murder?”

Bonnie leaned forward. “Watch your tongue.”

Cut clasped his fingers. “I’ll allow that one last question. Perhaps, if you finally understand that all of this is meticulously recorded, then you might stop thinking you’ve been indisposed and suffering an injustice.”

Sitting taller in his chair, he buffed his fingernails on his cuff. “Things outside the realm of understanding can become approved if it’s drafted and agreed to. What do you think war is, Nila? It’s a contract between two countries that men in their comfy offices sign. With one signature, they deliver countless resources and sign the death warrant of so many lives. That’s murder. And it’s all done with no comeuppance because they had a contract stating they had the full use of enlisted men’s lives all for greed, money, and power.”

I hated that he made sense; hated that I agreed with my archenemy. The world had always been twisted in that respect. Sending men off to war, only to die the moment they landed on enemy soil…then to send yet more men to the exact same battlefield, knowing the outcome would be death.

That was homicide on a negligent global scale, and those in power never paid for their crimes.

I sat silent.

Cut smiled, knowing he’d gotten through to me in some way. “When I say everything was done by the law, I do mean everything.” He nodded at the stacks of paper. “In there, you’ll find every deviation from the Debt Inheritance along with a Hawk signature and a Weaver’s.”

My heart skipped painfully. “You’re saying my family signed this?” I snorted. “I don’t believe that. Did you force them under duress?”

Marshall huffed. “At no point would my firm accept such a thing. We have iron-clad records that protect our client’s reputation. We have proof to show there was no hardship signing the amendments.”

Like I believed him. He let murderers get away with it for six hundred years.

Plucking a piece of paper from the fourth pile, he handed it to me. “See for yourself.”

Part of me wanted to crumple it up and throw it in his face, but I restrained.