Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Amadeo was no fool,” Ivy continued. “The Men were out of control, and it was only a matter of time before they turned on him. Even though he supported them and looked the other way—the greedy, evil bastard that he was—he figured the night was coming that his wife and daughters would be chosen for the Hunt. He and his sons would be killed so the Men could have everything. Amadeo sent his family away somewhere safe long before the revolt ever happened.”
“Wait,” Jacques said, holding up a hand. “Ivy, you told us all your family owned back then was the farm. The farm that was taken over by your many-great-grandmother who joined the fight to kill her uncle, Jonathan de Souza. You said he beat his wife and children to death, and the other Men didn’t do a thing to stop him.”
The line of her shoulder tensed. “I did say that, because that’s what I was told by Scott Cavendish. Fiction,” she spat. “All of it lies to prevent me from knowing my true history. I wasn’t a direct descendant. I came from a niece that turned on him and stole some farmland. And of course he didn’t tell me his real name. He wouldn’t have wanted me to look up Amadeo de Souza for myself.
“Cavendish couldn’t have me know that his wife and children didn’t die before their time. They lived safe and sound with the deed to their land, and a deal with the Sisters. Everyone can go about their lives if the Sisters filled up the mines, and forgot the diamonds ever existed. Amadeo’s wife, her children, their children, and so on would let them keep Bedlam. It was a family secret, and a promise.”
Roan pulled a face. “Why would they do that? Just give up their land and money?”
“They had land and money,” Ivy explained. “Amadeo didn’t send them away with nothing. Crates and crates of uncut diamonds. They were filthy rich and would be for generations to come. And if that changed, the land and the wealth beneath it was always right there. They had the deed.”
“But why did the Sisters agree to leave the fortune alone?”
“Because they had something that was more valuable than diamonds,” my father said. “Almost every land-owning man was dead. Law enforcement—dead. Corrupt magistrate—dead. Abusive husbands that ruled with an iron fist—dead. Racists and segregators that made the impossible lives of Black families even harder—dead.
“In thirty days and nights, they wiped out their oppressors. They were free.”
“And if the de Souzas reclaimed the land and forced them off, all of that was waiting for them in another town,” Arsenio said slowly. “Bedlam was one of the first towns with equality. Yeah... that was definitely worth more than diamonds.”
“Not one of them,” Ivy amended. “It was the first. Here, every child was educated. Wages were equal and fair. Women ran their homes and businesses. Segregation was dismissed as the idiotic nonsense it was. The revolt happened because Mayam Westchester fought back when no one else did.
“It was Mayam who formed the Society of Sisters. She became their first leader,” she said. “But her power was here. Her freedom only existed on this soil. So yes, Roan, she and the Sisters took whatever deal the de Souzas offered, and they were thankful it was so generous.”
“All these years later,” Legend said, “they’re still holding up their end of the deal.”
“Not quite.”
We looked to my father, whose expression shifted into something harder—darker.
“What do you mean not quite?”
He gestured at Ivy. “The young woman before you is not covered in jewelry and designer labels. She did not grow up in a mansion by the sea. The de Souza family fortunes changed, son. Drastically.”
My gaze locked with Ivy. “How?”
“The way it always happens,” Ivy said, smiling mirthlessly. “One lousy businessman and degenerate gambler, and suddenly your bank account is empty, your furniture is repossessed, and you’re thrown out onto the street with nothing because the same lousy businessman was your husband, and he was beaten to death by men he couldn’t pay back.
“My great-grandmother, Sabrina, didn’t know what to do. Her husband told her his family had a deed to land in this area, but that was all. He didn’t tell her how much it was worth, or that it could make their fortune again ten times over.” She threw up her hands. “Why would he? Christopher de Souza didn’t think much of his trophy wife. She made his meals and raised his children. Why would he discuss finances with her—let alone tell her he was flushing their lives down the toilet?
“I can only guess that having the deed to fall back on fueled his recklessness. Too bad he was killed before Bedlam could save them.”
The guys were all the way in the room now—pulling up the desk chair, claiming my armchair, sitting on the bed.