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The Last Book in the New York Times Bestselling Dark Romance Series.
Where love tries to triumph and darkness continues to reign….
“I’m in love with her, but it might not be enough to stop her from becoming the latest victim of the Debt Inheritance. I know who I am now. I know what I must do. We will be together–I just hope it’s on Earth rather than in heaven.”
It all comes down to this.
Love versus life.
Debts versus death.
Who will win?
There is also a BONUS BOOK: Indebted Epilogue OUT NOW.
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βREADY TO DIE, Nila?β
Cutβs voice physically hurt me as he forced me to my knees. The ballroom splendour mocked me as I bowed unwillingly at the feet of my executioner.
Velvet and hand-stitched crewel on the walls glittered like the diamonds the Hawks smuggledβa direct contrast to the roughly sawn wood and crude craftsmanship of the guillotine dais. No finesse. No pride. Just a raised podium, framework cushioning a large tarnished blade, and a rope dangling to the side.
βDonβt do this. Cutβ¦think about what youβve become. You can stop this.β My voice mimicked a beg but Iβd vowed not to beg. Iβd seen things, understood things, and suffered things I never thought I would be able to endure. I refused to cry or grovel. I wouldnβt give him that satisfaction.
βIn five minutes, this will all be over, Weaver.β Cut bent to the side and collected a wicker basket.
The wicker basket.
I didnβt want to think about what its contents would be.
He placed it on the other side of the wooden block.
My lungs demanded more oxygen. My brain demanded more time. And my heartβ¦it demanded more hope, more life, more love.
Iβm not ready.
Not like this.
βCutββ
βNo. No more talking. Not after everything youβve done.β Ripping a black hood from his pocket, he didnβt hesitate. No fanfare. No second guesses.
I cried out as the scratchy blackness engulfed my face, tightening by a cord around my throat.
The Weaver Wailer chilled me. The diamond collar thatβd seen what Iβd seen and whispered with phantoms of my slain family prepared to revoke its claim and detach from around my neck.
This was it.
The Final Debt.
Cut pushed my shoulders forward.
A heavy yoke settled over the top of my spine.
I closed my eyes.
I said goodbye.
β¦
I waited to die.
One Week Earlier
βNO!β
I pushed back, gripping the handrails of the private jet, throwing my weight against Danielβs incessant pushing. βStop!β
βGet up the fucking stairs, Weaver.β Daniel jabbed his elbow into my spine.
I stumbled, bashing my knee against the high tread. βYou canβt do this!β How had this happened? How had mere hours turned the entire universe against me? Again.
I wanted to smash every clock. Tear out the cog from every watch.
Time had once again stolen my life.
Jethro!
Daniel cackled. βI think youβll find we can.β He shoved me higher.
My heart hurtβas if every mile between us and Hawksridge was a blade slicing me further from Jethroβs protectionβa disharmony in an already discorded symphony.
One moment, Iβd been love-bruised and adored, tiptoeing back into the Hall; the next, I was trapped, forced to dress in jeans and a hoodie, and obey Daniel as he lurked in my doorway, barking orders to pack a few meagre belongings.
He hadnβt left me alone.
His eyes followed my every move. I couldnβt grab the gun Iβd hidden thanks to Jasmine. I couldnβt text Jethro to tell him Iβd been caught. All I could do was run around my room with my loverβs release still damp on my inner thighs and submit to my nemesis.
The only saving grace was beneath Danielβs hateful stare, Iβd managed to pack the clothing Iβd altered a few weeks ago. The cuffs full of needles and hems armoured with tools of my seamstress trade. Those garments were my only hope. There was no loophole. No way to refuse.
I had to trust Jasmine would get word to Jethro. That he would come for meβ¦
Before itβs too late.
The desolation Iβd suffered when Daniel first caught me faded to indignant anger. Iβd been so close to being free. Iβd been in Jethroβs arms. Iβd been away from his psychotic family. My heart hardened a little toward Jethro for making me go back.
Why? Why did you send me back?
I didnβt know if Iβd have the courage to forgive him.
You know why. And you will. Of course, you will.
I couldnβt hate him because I wasnβt selfish. Heβd sent me back to protect all of us. Those precious few whoβd accepted him and heβd accepted in return. Love was the worst enemy, winding its commitment, ensuring no freedom when it came to clearheaded thinking of adversity.
Jethro loved too much. Felt too much. Suffered too much. And his siblings would be our downfall. Kestrel and Jasmine relied on himβjust like I did. The responsibility of settling his familyβs wrongs was a terrible burden to bear.
But heβs not alone.
I mightβve been stolen. Jethroβs plans to save me might be ruined. But I was still alive. Still breathing. I wasnβt the naΓ―ve girl whoβd first arrived at Hawksridge. I was a woman in love with a Hawk. A Weaver who would draw Hawk blood.
Itβs not overβ¦
Pain exploded in my spine as Daniel stabbed me with his fist. βGet in the fucking airplane.β
βNo!β I threw myself backward, looking frantically at the private hangar. We werenβt at Heathrow, but a small, private airfield called Turweston. βI wonβt!β
No strangers I could call for help.
No police or air marshals.
When Daniel had stalked me from my room and shoved me outside, Cut had been waiting. With a victorious smile, heβd stuffed me in the back of a limousine.
With a purring engine, weβd pulled away from Hawksridge, tyres crunching on gravel as we followed the long driveway off the estate.
My eyes had scoured the trees, their silhouettes growing stronger as the sun tinted the sky with pink blushes. Daniel and Cut sat opposite me, toasting each other with a chilled bottle of champagne. However, I hadnβt been alone on my side of the limoβI had a guard.
Marquise, Bonnieβs damn henchman, sat beside me; a mountain of muscle, unyielding and impenetrable.
βCome along.β A strange voice raised my gaze.
A man in a captainβs uniform smiled from the top of the aircraft steps. The private planeβs fuselage glinted in graphite grey. Sparkling diamonds, inlaid in the shape of a windswept ribbon, decorated the tail.
βI donβt want to leave England.β
Daniel laughed behind me. βLike you have a choice.β
βI always have a choice, Buzzard.β I glowered over my shoulder. βJust like this choice of yours will not end well for you.β
If I donβt kill you, Jethro will.
As far as Daniel knew, his slain brother was supposedly rotting in some unmarked grave. Jethro was right. The element of surprise trumped any of Cut and Danielβs grand delusions.
He snarled, βWatch it, bitch. Everything you say to me here will be paid in full when weβre there.β
βNow, now. No need for threats.β The captain climbed down a rung, holding out his hand. βSheβll get on board. Wonβt you, my dear? No need to be afraid of flying. I have an exemplary record.β White hair tufted from either side of his pristine flying cap. In his mid-fifties, he looked fit and toned and impatient to take off.
βI canβt leave.β
I canβt be so far from Jethro.
The captain smiled, waving at his vessel. βOf course, you can. Plus, I bet youβve never travelled in such style.β
βItβs nothing against your mode of transport. Itβs the destination I disagree to. Iβm staying here.β I dug my heels into the metal grate, fighting against Danielβs perpetual pushing. βI donβt have my passport, visaβ¦ I canβt travel across borders, so you might as well let me return home.β
Home.
Had Hawksridge Hall become my home?
No, donβt be absurd.
But Jethro had. It didnβt matter where we ended up. What we did for work. How our lives panned out. As long as I was alive with Jethro by my sideβ¦I would be home.
βDonβt fuss about that.β The captain waved his hand in invitation. βTravel is good for the soul.β
Not my soul.
Travel meant my soul would become untethered from my body, thanks to Cut and the Final Debt.
The sun barely peeked over the horizon, hidden by soupy fog and reluctant night. The world refused to warm, unable to shed the morning frost or dislodge the claws of winter. England didnβt want to say goodbye as much as I did, its reluctant dawn wanting me to stay.
βIf you donβt get on the motherfucking plane in two seconds, Weaver, youβll live to regret it,β Daniel growled.
I glared at the youngest Hawk. βHavenβt you learned by now your threats donβt scare me?β
Forcing myself to stand taller, I hid the quaking in my bones, the quivering in muscles, the rampant terror scurrying in my blood. βI know where you want to take me, and I refuse.β
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. A second later, he cuffed me on the back of the head. βBehave!β
I gritted my teeth against the wash of agony.
βAlmasi Kipanga is a fucking treat for the likes of you, Weaver. Get on your knees and show some goddamn appreciation. Otherwise, Iβll rip out your fucking tongue and ensure peace for the rest of the trip.β
βAh, as I said, thereβs no need for violence.β The captain took another step, prying my hand off the railing and tugging me upward. βCome along, my dear. Letβs get you inside. And donβt you worry about visas and things. Leave it to me. Airport control wonβt be an issue.β
Vertigo cast the world in monochromatic greys as I swayed toward the captain. βButββ
Cut barrelled past Danielβreaching the end of his patience. Grabbing my arse, he shoved me upward, forcing me like unwilling livestock up the final steps. βI have your passport, Nila. Get on the plane.β His breath skated over the back of my neck. βAnd donβt think about refusing again. Got it?β
Gripping the fuselage, I looked over my shoulder. βMy passport? How did youββ
He waved a black binder in my face. βEverything is in here. You have no more excuses, and I wonβt ask again. Get on the fucking plane or Iβll knock you out and you can wake up when we get there.β
Series Reading Order
Debt Inheritance (Indebted #1) FREE
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First Debt (Indebted #2)
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Second Debt (Indebted #3)
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Third Debt (Indebted #4)
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Fourth Debt (Indebted #5)
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Final Debt (Indebted #6)
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Indebted Epilogue (Indebted #7)
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Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex… her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.
Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)
Her Grey Romance books include:
Destroyed
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