Holding out the tiny excuse of an apron, I placed it over her head. It was black with white lacy trim, low enough to show the tops of her breasts and nipples, short enough to show the trimmed delight between her legs.
Spinning her around, I tied the strings at her neck and lower spine. When she faced me again, she choked, “Why?”
“Why?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Is this all a game to you?”
I smiled. “No game. We’re deadly serious. As you should know by now.” Leaving her, I returned to the table and collected the final item. The Weaver heirloom.
Prowling back to her, I held up the collar.
Her eyes popped wide. She gawked at the solid encrusted diamond collar made from our very own imports. Two hundred carats, valued at over three million pounds—it’d been in my family since the first debt had been claimed.
“Do you know what this is?” I dangled it in front of her face.
She clamped her lips, eyes deathly cold.
I didn’t need a reply. She’d know soon enough.
Unlocking the collar, I held the two ends and bent over her. Wrapping it around her throat, I moved from front to back, positioning myself to fasten it. I kept my voice low and soothing, embracing my cold ruthlessness again. “It’s affectionately known as the Weaver Wailer.” Using the special clasp—an irreversible clasp—I murmured, “It’s your gift from us. Jewels from the best of our mines. You should be proud to wear such wealth.”
Nila shivered as the lock snapped into place.
My shoulders relaxed. It was on. It was done.
Her option to leave had just disappeared.
“You’re ours now. Want to know why?”
She whimpered, shaking her head.
Gathering her thick black hair, I ignored her plea for ignorance. I’d told her ignorance was bliss—which was true. But my job was to torment her. She had to fully embrace her future.
Breathing gently on her neck, I whispered, “Because once the Weaver Wailer is in place...there’s only one way to get it back off.”
Chapter Fourteen
Nila
“ENOUGH PLAYING, JETHRO, bring her here.”
The command burned my ears, turning my false belief I could survive into dirty soot. The fire I’d nursed inside was gone. All the stupid pretending that I could block the worst from damaging my soul disappeared. My little claws had fully retracted into nothing once again.
I was cold. Cold ashim.
Shut down. Same as him.
Silent. Same as him.
Only one way to get it off.
I swallowed. My head pounded. My hands flew up to tug at the jewelled collar. It was heavy and lifeless and ice. Pure ice. The perfect clarity and flawless sparkle of the diamonds leached into my skin, claiming me, marking me.
Only one way to get it off.
I thought I’d come to terms with my mortality. I thought I’d face the end with my head held high and dry eyes—but that was before they told me the method of my execution. When I thought of death, I pictured...nothing...I had no image of how the end would come.
Now I did.
