The moment my door slammed shut, we tore off toward the airport.

“AH, SON, I’M so glad you’re home.”

My eyes wrenched upward as Cut threw me inside Hawksridge Hall.

Bonnie.

She stood with prideful smugness as I stumbled over the threshold.

A Black Diamond member had collected us from the airport. Cut hadn’t said a word to me on the drive back, preferring to type furiously on his phone the entire journey home.

Home?

Hawksridge was never home.

Not without Jethro.

He was my home.

I hugged my cast harder, trying to push away the fears of Jethro's safety. I had double terror now I was back in the one place that would steal my life.

How many breaths did I have left?

How many heartbeats and moments?

Bonnie inched forward, leaning heavier than normal on her walking stick. When I first arrived, she’d refused to use her stick, moving around without any aid. Now, she seemed to have aged decades in the months I’d been her prisoner.

I smiled slightly. The trouble I’d caused had withered her—trading her youth for my longevity.

If I died, at least she wouldn’t be far behind me.

My fingers curled with defiance, activating the break in my arm. It’d taken almost an hour for the adrenaline to leave my system after dealing with airport security. I’d burned off what food I’d eaten on the plane and felt shaky and sick.

However, there was one silver lining to being back in the rat’s nest.

We’d returned to Hawksridge minus a Hawk.

Daniel.

His body was now lion shit turning to dust on an African plain.

Was that what Cut was emailing about? Trying to find his wayward son?

I’d been surprised Cut left without waiting for news of him. Leaving his offspring behind seemed callous, but I supposed he’d done worse. What was a departure without a note in the scheme of what he’d committed?

Bonnie seemed to sense my thoughts. Her hazel eyes narrowed on me. “Where is my grandson?”

Cut stormed forward, pecking his mother on her cheek. She stood in the grand foyer of the Hall, where Jethro and I had guided the Vanity Fair interviewers for our photo session in the grove.

Her skirts hung regally, her chin tilted just so, offering a royal welcome.

“I’d like to know that, too.” Cut gave her another peck. “Hello, mother.” Turning to face me, he growled, “Nila knows something. She’s not talking currently, but she will. Have no doubt about that.”

I gulped as Bonnie turned frigid. “I see.” Shuffling forward, her eyes landed on my cast. “Despite that blip of bad news, I understand the Fourth Debt went okay.”

Cut nodded. “Yes. No one suspected.” Marching toward me, he grabbed my good wrist and yanked me toward Bonnie. “I’ll leave you to remove the cast and retrieve the merchandise. I have to attend to something.” His eyes glittered, filling with secrets. “Ask me what I have to attend to, Nila.”

I clamped my lips together. I didn’t need to ask. He’d threatened me for too long.

The Final Debt.

There would be no more dallying or delays.

No more reprieves or hope things could end differently.

I’m not going down without a war.

Fisting my hair, he kissed my cheek. “I have an old friend to dust off and prepare for its latest victim. You have a date in the ballroom tomorrow, my dear.”

“Tomorrow?”

My heart splintered. Was this how prisoners felt on death row? Having a date for their execution? Wishing for more time all while begging it to slow?

“Tomorrow.” His mouth pressed against mine.

I squirmed, but he held me firm. “Daniel might’ve made you pay the Third Debt but don’t for a second think I’ve forgotten that I didn’t. You chickened out at Almasi Kipanga, but you won’t have a choice tonight.”

I refused to let him see my fear. “I fought you then. I’ll fight you now.”

Cut chuckled. “We’ll see.”

“I’ll die fighting. I’ll fight every second for Jethro.”

“Jethro?” Bonnie snapped, full attention brimming. “What about that traitor?”

Cut smiled at his mother. “Long story. I’ll tell you later.” Turning his gaze back to me, he whispered, “Jethro will know you’ll fight. His imagination will run rampant of images of me doing all sort of things to you now we’re home.” He kissed my cheek again. “The eyes paint an awful picture, Nila, but the mind is far worse.”

Letting me go, he strode off, saying over his shoulder. “When you’re dead and Jethro’s been taught a lesson, he’ll no doubt try to find a way to kill me. What he doesn’t realise is, I’m one step ahead of him. I’ll hurt him. I’ll ruin him. And I’ll tell him word for word what I did to you and watch it break him apart.”

Rounding the corner, Cut’s voice sailed back with promise. “He won’t kill me because he’ll be ruined before he ever gets the chance.”

FINALLY.

Finally, fate decided to throw me a fucking break.

The captain hesitantly accepted my pocket full of uncut diamonds, swiping a hand through a bushy moustache. I’d never met him, but he’d heard of me—like everyone in Botswana. “You want to leave now, now? Like right now?”

I nodded, anxiety pinging in my blood. “Yes. Like this very fucking minute.”

Nila…