Bonnie slapped her cane onto the table, cracking the palpable tension. “Watch your tongue, hussy. I’ll have it ripped out before you can—”
Jaz held up her hand. “Grandmamma, let me handle this.” Her eyes narrowed to bronze blades. “Let me get this straight. I’m the bitch? I’m the bitch for loving my brothers so much that I now want to avenge their deaths by killing the person who took theirs? I’m the bitch because I gave everything to Jethro, including the use of my legs, and don’t deserve to honour his memory by making you suffer?”
Her face turned red. “Excuse me if you don’t think I’m worth that, Ms. High and Fucking Mighty. Perhaps, we should kill your brother and see what sort of person you’d turn into.”
My heart exploded at the mention of harming Vaughn. “Don’t you dare touch him.”
“Address me properly and we’ll see.” Jasmine shoved her face close to mine. “Behave yourself and your twin will walk away when you die. Don’t, and his head will be in the basket beside yours.”
Oh, my God.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t even speak through the horrors of what she’d said.
“If you so much as touch him—”
“You’ll what? Kill me? Yeah, right.” Jaz rolled her eyes. “Like anyone believes you’re capable of that, little Weaver. Even Jethro knew you could never hurt him and that’s why he—”
I slapped my hands over my ears. “Stop it!”
Daniel broke out into loud guffaws. “Well, fuck me, sis. You’re kinda badass.”
Jaz looked at her younger brother. The harsh glint in her eyes increased with maliciousness. “You have no idea, baby brother.”
Cut clapped his hands. “Marshall continue. My mother must rest, and we have a lot to cover. Ignore any further outbursts and get on with it.”
Marshall nodded. “Yes, sir. Of course.”
Jasmine twisted away from me, facing the lawyers. She breathed steadily with no adverse reactions to our verbal war.
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.