And I became a true wife and supporter.
When I fell pregnant with Peter, my first child, I swore he would be the reason I worked beside Alfred and gathered more power. Hard work and dedication didn’t scare me. Failure and destitution did. So I did everything in my power to make my husband great—beyond great—unsurpassable.
One night, Alfred told me of the Debt Inheritance. It took me years to get him to fully explain what it meant. Wives of Hawk men were not supposed to get involved with the so-called Indebted business, but Alfred was mine, and if it was in my power to bring him greater glory, I would do it.
I was then graced with another son, Bryan. Life smiled on us, doting on my perfect children, ensuring they would become great masters and lords of a universe I would help maintain and create for them.
However, one stormy night and a few too many cognacs, Alfred told me how he claimed a Weaver before he met me. He carried out a few debts but couldn’t carry out the final one. He didn’t attach the Weaver Wailer, and he lied about killing her to a save face with the history books.
He let her go. Told her to run. To hide. He buried an empty coffin, pretended he’d completed the debts, and covered up the truth on the moor.
Stupid bastard.
That kind of weakness was not tolerated. I lost all respect for him. I saw him for what he was—a wimp. So I moved out of his bedroom to new quarters. I could no longer stomach his unwillingness to deliver a perfect future for our sons. Years later when he died of lung cancer, I didn’t mourn his loss. I celebrated it.
Now was my time to triumph or meddle—again, it depended on whose opinion.
Peter took after his father. A hard worker, loyal and kind. I truly hoped he would be a good replacement and heir but time slowly changed my opinion.
Bryan took after me. He had my soul, my discipline, my drive for the impossible. Peter preferred to study and donate our wealth to charities. Bryan preferred to take that wealth and turn it into even more wealth for us—not others.
We were blood, but battle lines had been drawn and as age separated my two sons, I taught the one who listened. Bryan had been my student since he was little, and he remained my student all his life.
I’d wanted more children. I wouldn’t deny it. Lots and lots of children to ensure a greater probability of world domination. We traded in the most priceless of wealth. We owned countless empires in countries around the globe. I was finally in a position to ensure we were unstoppable, but I only had one son on my side. However, he was a son who was happy to oblige.
While I was busy teaching Bryan how to run the Black Diamonds with better efficiency, digging through Hawk history books and immersing myself in my new family more than I ever did as a Warren, Peter fell in love.
A woman he met at an animal shelter. He brought her home to introduce us a few months into their relationship. Behind my back, he’d asked her to marry him and she’d agreed without my consent.
Rose Tessel was everything I wasn’t. Softly spoken, obsessed with dogs and cats and horses. She didn’t care about Hawksridge. She didn’t care about diamonds or money. All she cared about was making Peter happy and spending time at the stables with my firstborn.
That bitch completely clouded Peter’s mind. As my eldest son, he had a duty to perform. His father hadn’t followed the rules of the Debt Inheritance, but my son sure would. However, he left it too late. He didn’t collect Emma Weaver and pretended it didn’t exist—burying himself in storybook romance and stupidity.
Bryan tried to make him see sense, but Peter and Rose fought a good battle. They were so wrapped up in their own plans; they forgot we were family and family sticks together through everything.
It was Bryan who came up with the idea.
He was such a good son, so attentive and switched on. He made a promise that if I put him in charge of Hawksridge, he would grow the empire to ever-new heights. He would always look after me and would grace me with many grandchildren to rule.
However, he had one condition.
He wanted to claim the Debt Inheritance. He’d spied on Emma Weaver. He’d coveted what should’ve been Peter’s and a dislike for his older brother festered deep within his heart.
I pondered my decision, not because I doubted his capabilities, but because it would do him good to stare defeat in the face before granting his dreams. Unfortunately, while he waited for my deliberation, his jealousy of Peter overflowed one drunken night.
Peter was at a business meeting in London, delayed overnight. Rose had agreed to wait for him at the estate in his quarters instead of returning to her place in Buckinghamshire. I hated having that hussy under my roof—unmarried, no less. But Bryan did something unforgivable.
He raped Rose.
He took what should’ve been Peter’s.
But what he took, he gave back. He impregnated her with my first grandbaby.
I cursed him for that. I was disappointed in him. Disgusted in his weakness for flesh.
But after he’d taken what he wanted, he regretted the choice immeasurably. He came to me with the weeping woman and together we put her back together again. I held a meeting that very evening and said Rose could remain in my household, but she would have to marry Bryan. If she didn’t, Peter would pay the price.
She refused but wisely reconsidered when I threatened Peter’s life.
The next few months were fraught with drama I didn’t care for. I realised too late that my eldest would never accept his love was betrothed to his brother. Peter reminded me too much of his father, and I’d had enough of his indecision and weakness to have the strength to deal with it again. So I told Bryan he could have everything he ever wanted. A family. Children. An empire. And the Debt Inheritance.