Not looking forward to a conversation I can no longer put off, I let him take me to our room. Inside, he guides me to the walk-in closet and seats me on a new padded divan that I’m guessing he bought after the shooting incident. It’s true that the bench would’ve been uncomfortable. With the divan, I don’t have to sit up so straight. The backrest supports my weight, allowing me to relax my abdominal muscles.
He scrutinizes me. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” I lie.
“Not too tired?”
“You wanted to show me something?”
He walks to his side of the room and brushes his jackets aside, revealing a safe at the back of the open closet. He punches in a code, not bothering to hide it from me, and takes out a flat black box.
I hold my breath as he carries the box to me. I know what’s in it even before he stops in front of me and lifts the lid. Hundreds of diamonds are mounted in gold, forming intricate flowers. Thin chains connect the petals to drape in a scalloped, V-shaped necklace that ends in glittering teardrops.
I’ve seen the necklace only twice before. The first time was when I retrieved the box and saw what was in it after my mom had given me the key. The second time was a week ago, when I got shot.
The first time, I tried it on. The diamond flowers covered my shoulders while the teardrops fell to the curve of my breasts. The weight was surprisingly heavy, reminding me of a man’s broad hands cupping a woman’s shoulders. In my mom’s case, the act I’d witnessed had been menacing. Threatening. In mine, that tender act had been grounding, making me feel safe. Until I’d learned about Dante’s betrayal.
Knowing that I’d literally hung a death sentence around my neck, I ripped off the necklace and put it back in the box.
Looking at the piece of jewelry in the clear light of the room now, it’s even more breathtaking than I remember. A pang of regret hits me when I think that Dante will have to destroy it to sell the stones. The diamonds will have to be extracted from the petals and centers of the flowers, leaving them unadorned and bare. Maybe Dante will have the gold melted, although its value is nothing compared to the diamonds.
“It’s beautiful.” I glance at him. “You got it back.”
“I did.” He closes the box and sets it on the dresser. “I thought you deserved a last look.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
Smiling, he sits down next to me. “I told you why I wanted it back, but I never told you why Lee and I stole it.”
My mouth goes dry. I know instinctively what he’s about to tell me is going to be heavy. “Why did you?”
“To prove my worth to your father.”
“Your worth? But you were already working for him.”
“As a guard, yes.”
I study his face. “You wanted a promotion?”
A smile tugs at his lips. “You could say that.”
“Proving your worth by stealing this”—I motion at the box—“seems preposterous.”
“What can I say? I was young and cocky. I wanted to show your father that I could exceed his every expectation.”
It sounds incredulous. “So you stole the necklace to prove a point to my father?”
He watches me solemnly. Darkly. “I did, but then he broke our agreement, killed my brother, and kept the necklace anyway.”
I flinch at the dishonorable way in which my father acted even though it doesn’t surprise me. What does surprise me is that Dante was willing to trade the necklace for a higher position in my father’s hierarchy.
“But the necklace is priceless.” I glance at the box again. “You could’ve sold it and built your own empire. What could you have possibly gained by trading it to my father?”
He looks me dead in the eyes. “You.”
The declaration bowls me over. “Me?”
“That’s why your mother told me she’d given it to you before she passed away in my arms. I wanted her to know she didn’t have to worry about you, that I’d always take care of you.” His expression is pained. “It was all I could do for her in those last moments—offering her peace. So I confessed my reasons for stealing the necklace. Once she’d heard me out, she didn’t hold back the truth. She told me she’d taken the necklace and that you knew where it was.” He pauses. “But she didn’t have a chance to tell me that you were pregnant or what your father had done to you. She was gone before she could tell me about your plans.”
