Would they sign a new contract giving me the right to slash their throats and tear out their hearts in payment for atrocities committed?
It doesn’t matter.
I didn’t need their permission.
I focused on the table, on the swirls of wood grain, rather than his face. If I looked up, I wouldn’t have the strength to stay in my chair. “You’re saying you presided over my ancestors’ executions? That you helped bribe away the truth and protect these sick bastards?”
Cut shot to his feet. “Nila!”
I ignored him, my fingernails digging into my palms. “You’re saying you helped change the law and enabled one family to destroy another? You’re saying you had my ancestorskilled?”
I slammed my chair back, my voice reaching a glass-shattering octave. “You’re saying that you can sit there, talk to me, tell me whatever bullshit you’re about to do, all the whileknowingthey mean to chop off my head, and you don’t have aproblemwith that?”
Jasmine snatched my wrist. “God’s sake, sit your arse down.”
“Let go of—” I cried out as Daniel grabbed my hair and shoved me forward. I lost my footing; my face smashed against the table. Instantly, blood spurted from my nose, pain resonating in my skull.
Sickness drenched my senses with agony.
“Drop her, Daniel!” Cut yelled.
Daniel’s fingers were suddenly torn from my hair, letting me slouch backward, landing in my chair. Jasmine fought off her brother, slapping him away. “Don’t fucking touch her. What did I say?I’min charge.I’mthe oldest.”
My eyes watered as more blood gushed from my nose. I didn’t think it was broken, but the room spun with an induced vertigo wave.
God, what was I thinking?
The plan was to remain cool and invisible, looking for the perfect chance.
Now I couldn’t think straight with pain.
“You’re not in fucking charge, Jaz. She’s mine.” Daniel pointed at Marshall. “Tell her. Amend it, so my sister can shut the fuck up about the rules.”
Marshall looked awkwardly at Cut. “Sir?”
Cut ran a hand over his face, slowly sitting back down. “No, the conversation we had yesterday still stands.” His lips turned up at the rapidly building stain from my nosebleed. Every red drip redecorated the table and the front of my cardigan. “Someone get her a damn napkin.”
Jasmine shuffled in her wheelchair, pulling out a white handkerchief. “Here.” Shoving it into my hand, her eyes flickered with compassion.
It only made me hate her more.
Scrunching up the material, I held it to my nose, getting sick joy from destroying the white perfection. The stuffiness made me breathless, and my eyesdrifted to the corner where initials had been embroidered.
JKH
I dropped it.
Oh, my God.
My hand splayed open, tinged with crimson and sticky but unable to hide the two tattoos on my fingertips. JKH.
Jasmine kept her brother’s handkerchief.
Why? To rub salt in already hollowed wounds or to laugh over fooling him just like she’d fooled me.
I locked eyes with her, pouring all my rage into my stare. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done.” Glancing at Bonnie and Cut, I added, “You’llallpay.”
Marshall cleared his throat loudly. “I think the little interlude has come to an end. Shall we continue?”
