I gave everything I had.

I ignored the splitting headache. I forced bruised muscles to gather power beyond normal limits. I turned rogue as Nila continued to stroke Cut.

Stop!

Don’t touch him.

Cut smiled, wrapping one arm around Nila as she did what he commanded. But his eyes never left mine. They gleamed with triumph. Knowing this would break me worse than any bullet, better than any guillotine.

Soil smeared against my cheek as I rolled on the floor, doing my best to get free.

You won’t get away with this, you bastard!

Flashbacks of Emma, Nila’s mother, being in Cut’s embrace merged with the present. She’d tolerated my father. She’d played him better than he knew. But I’d known all along her true thoughts. I’d felt her repellent dislike for him, even while she smiled affectionately and let Cut believe she was in love with him.

She’d done what Nila had attempted to do; only Nila fell in love with me. Emma never fell in love with Cut. And that’d only layered to his fundamental issue.

No one loved him. No one cared.

People respected and feared him, but it wasn’t the same as being completely devoted through affection. And he knew that.

Nila cried silently as her hand worked harder. What had he threatened? Why had she agreed to touch him?

I knew Nila. It wouldn’t have been anything toward her. Her own pain she faced far too easily. No, he would’ve threatened me—even though he’d said I wouldn’t be used in this debt. Bastard. Utter fucking bastard.

Nila!

The shout warped unintelligently around the gag as Cut dropped his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled.

Her shoulders quaked; tears making her tremble and shake.

I would’ve killed countless innocent people if only I had the power to stand and shove a dagger into Cut’s heart.

Tears stung my eyes at being so fucking helpless.

Cut brushed aside Nila’s hair, kissing the diamond collar. “God, that feels good. I hope you’re wet for me, Weaver. Because I can’t take much more of your teasing.”

Everything changed.

Nila’s hand ceased stroking. Her shoulders stopped quaking. And the room turned stagnant with possibility.

“I—I can’t—” Ripping her hand from his trousers, she shoved him hard. “I won’t!”

Cut wobbled from her push, his legs spread and jeans undone. The shadow of his erection tightened the fabric. His voice was blackness personified. “Think wisely, my dear. Are you sure?”

Nila nodded, frantically wiping her right hand on her leggings. “I won’t. I won’t grant you pleasure. No matter what you say. I won’t!”

Storm clouds covered Cut’s face. He lowered his jaw, glaring at her beneath his brow. “Have it your way.” Marching toward her, he grabbed her wrist. “This way, please.”

Nila looked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened, taking in my change of sitting upright to lying on the floor. Her features contorted with sorrow and guilt. I’m sorry.

I shook my head, dispelling ancient dust. Never. There’s nothing to be—

Cut forced her to turn, stealing our private moment.

Her feet stumbled as he threw her against the table at the perimeter of the room. Yanking out a chair, he shoved her into it. “Sit.”

She breathed hard, red spots of fear and fury on her cheeks. “Cut...please, whatever you’re about to do—don’t. Please.”

“You’re getting repetitive, Ms. Weaver.” With an angry swipe, Cut shoved the paraphernalia the mine workers had brought in and cleared a spot on the dirty table.

His hands shook as he rearranged his cock and zipped his jeans. His belt buckle clanked as he fumbled to do it up. “You could’ve paid the Third Debt without pain. I wouldn’t have hurt you. I would’ve even granted you pleasure.”

Nila spat on the floor. “Pleasure? Rape would never be pleasure. Your touch is grotesque.”

I sucked in useless air through my nose. Her strength astounded me but also pissed me off. Answering back would only deliver worse things. As much as it would’ve butchered me to witness the love of my life submit to my father, watching this…whatever this was…would be worse.

At least Nila would be intact.

You don’t believe that.

Her strength came from answering back and standing up for herself. If she let Cut willingly strip her of sexual rights and permit him to take her…I doubt her mind would remain so rebellious and untouchable.

Christ, I’m so sorry, Nila.

I wriggled on the floor, trying to get closer, doing my best to get free. Every inch of my body worked against me, slowly draining with every sordid breath.

Cut panted hard as he brushed back his hair, centring himself. “Give me your arm.”

Nila froze. “What? No? I won’t touch you again.”

“I didn’t ask for your hand, Nila. I asked for your arm.”

She slowly shook her head, crossing her arms defiantly. “You ask and I deny. No, you may not have my arm.”

“You’re wrong. I didn’t ask to begin with. I said give.” Cut’s anger rose to the surface. I was surprised he’d let Nila’s outbursts last as long as he had. No matter how he would deny it, Cut had feelings for Nila. Feelings he still nursed for her mother. He wanted her. He wanted to keep her. But it fucking killed him that the daughter fell in love with his son when the mother cursed him to hell the day he took her life.