I’d regret it.

Shit, I already did.

But it couldn’t stop me.

With a rabbiting heart, I’d messaged her the first shred of truth.

I began the journey that would pulverize me.

Cut looked up from his newspaper, his eyes narrowing. “Where were you yesterday?”

Torturing Nila. Torturing myself.

“Nowhere. Not important.” I strode toward the dining table, glaring at Daniel. He was the only other man indulging in breakfast. Everyone else must’ve eaten and split.

Daniel smirked, smearing butter onto a fresh croissant. Keeping eye contact, he stuffed it into his mouth.

The idea of eating with my two least favourite people turned my hunger into repulsion. Grabbing the back of a chair, I made no move to pull it out. “Where’s Kes?”

Cut pursed his lips, folding the newspaper sedately beside him. “How would I know?”

I cocked my head in acknowledgement. Fine. If he wanted to play hard-arse, I could play. Squeezing the back of the chair, I nodded and made my way back to the exit. I had something to discuss with Kes, and wasn’t in the mood to deal with my father and his mind manipulation.

Reaching the door, my fingers wrapped around the doorknob, but before I could escape, Cut said, “We haven’t finished. Come in. Sit. Eat.”

I turned, finding it no hardship to find the snow that protected me. I vibrated with icicles, just waiting to use the glittering tips as weapons. “We have finished. I have things to do.”

Daniel snickered. “That’s what you think.”

“Shut up,” I snapped. “Eat your damn food and mind your own fucking business.”

Cut raised an eyebrow, pushing back his chair to stand. Moving to the buffet table where Nila had collected the trays to serve the Black Diamond brothers, he used a pair of tongs to place a raspberry Danish and some fresh grapes onto his plate. “I’m not convinced you’re coping with the pressure of what is required of you, Jethro.”

I swallowed, fisting my hands. “I’m coping just fine.”

“Then why have you been making almost daily visits to see Jaz?”

“Oh, someone’s been caught sneaking,” Daniel chuckled.

I threw him a death stare before focusing the rage on my father. “Jasmine is our flesh and blood. I’m permitted to see family. Or is that against the rules now, too?”

If he took Jaz away from me, I would go fucking rogue.

Cut clucked his tongue, turning to face me. “Your temper and wisecracks have been steadily getting worse for weeks.” Tilting his head, he added, “In fact, it’s become so bad no amount of bullshit from you can convince me that you’re coping. You’re losing control, Jet. Losing it all thanks to that little Weaver Whore.”

My heart thundered. Words flew and collided in my head.

She’s not a fucking whore.

Don’t fucking talk about her like that.

Stay the fuck away from her.

But I swallowed every syllable and forced myself to stay stoic.

When I didn’t respond, Cut glowered and made his way back to the table. Sitting down, he waved at a chair. “Join us.”

“No. Whatever you have to say, say it. I have somewhere to be.”

Someone to see.

“I do not like this side of you, Jet. I thought we’d turned a corner with you a few years ago. Don’t make me regret what I promised you.”

My heart switched from anger to anxiety. I hated that he had such power, such sway over me. “I’ve done everything you asked.”

Cut popped a grape into his mouth. “Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong. I know more than you think, and you haven’t been following the rules.”

Shit.

Sweat dotted my brow at the thought of him seeing me come undone while thrusting into the woman I was meant to treat like filth. “Name one thing.”

My father’s eyes twinkled.

Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.

Cut took a bite of his pastry, never taking his gaze off me.

“You’re in fucking trouble,” Dan sneered.

My head tore up, locking eyes with my psychotic little brother. I didn’t think it was possible to hate someone as much as I hated him. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. He wasn’t good for me. Healthy for me.

Snapping between clenched teeth, I said, “Watch your tongue, Buzzard.”

Daniel growled, “Don’t use that nickname, Kite.”

“Shut it,” I hissed, glaring behind me just in case Nila had arrived for breakfast. I’d given her the truth in my last message, but I wanted her to come to me and ask. I wanted to stare into her eyes as she waged between anger at being tricked and acknowledgement that in some way, she’d known all along.

“Enough. Both of you,” Cut ordered, pointing a spoon at us. “Stop being a twat, Dan, and, Jet, he’s right. You’re in trouble.”

I trembled with pent-up aggression. The pressure of competition and testosterone in the room seemed to drip down the damn walls. “Why, exactly?”

My father relaxed into the chair, believing he was in complete control.

And he was. As much as I hated it.

“What didn’t you do after the First Debt was paid?”

My mind charged with all sorts of things. There were so many instructions I hadn’t kept. I struggled to recall one that he’d caught me out on. Did he know that I hadn’t dropped her core temperature before the whipping? Did he know I’d fucked her and in turn fucked myself?