Chapter 1
In front of three hundred guests, my husband fastened the blue diamond my mother left me around his mistress’s neck.
Ten minutes earlier, Evander had stood behind the curtain at the Armitage Museum, unfastening the clasp at the back of my necklace.
“The clasp is loose.”
He said it softly.
I lowered my head and let his fingers brush the back of my neck.
He had fastened Maris’s Star around me on the day of my mother’s funeral, too.
The blue diamond had just come out of its box then, cold as a drop of seawater. My mother could no longer form a full sentence. She only gripped my wrist and kept tracing the natural silver-white fracture running through the stone.
“Don’t cut it,” she said.
“Something that has been broken and is still whole—that’s where its value is.”
Evander held my hand then. His promise had the solemn weight of a vow at her graveside.
“Unless you want it, no one will ever take it from you.”
I believed him for twelve years.
Now Maris’s Star rested against Sabine’s bare collarbone.
She wore an ivory gown and stood at the center of Harrowmont & Co.’s twentieth-anniversary charity gala, carefully touching the diamond with one fingertip.
Evander swept her hair aside from the back of her neck and raised his glass.
“Maris’s Star was never meant to be trapped in the past.”
The lights of the exhibition hall fell across his face. Handsome. Composed. Like a husband who had never wronged anyone.
“Beginning tonight, Sabine will lead Harrowmont into its next era as Creative Director.”
Applause broke out.
I stood at the back of the crowd, still holding the pen I had meant to use for a congratulatory card.
Evander’s eyes passed over the guests and found mine exactly.
He knew I was watching.
“Next Friday morning, Grafton & Bell will recut Maris’s Star.”
Sabine caught her breath.
Evander placed a hand at the small of her back.
“It will become her engagement ring.”
This time, the applause came louder.
Someone lifted a phone.
Someone raised a glass to Sabine.
And all I could see was that blue diamond pressed against her skin—like a heart being executed in public.
I didn’t rush forward to take it back.
I walked through the crowd toward the designer signing wall behind Sabine.
It had been set up for her.
The press had already positioned their cameras, waiting for her to write the first line for the new collection.
I uncapped my pen.
In the center of the spotless white wall, I wrote:
AVELINE
Black ink split the white surface, clean as a wound.
The room fell silent for one beat.
Sabine’s smile froze.
I held the pen out to her.
“Since you’re the Creative Director,” I said, “draw something.”
She didn’t take it.
She looked at Evander first.
I raised my eyes to the blue diamond.
“Or don’t. Just tell me the cut ratio for the center stone.”
Sabine’s lips parted.
Nothing came out.
Evander stepped in front of her, blocking my view.
“Don’t make yourself look any worse, Aveline.”
His tone was almost gentle.
Then he turned to security.
“Mrs. Harrowmont is upset. Please show her out.”
Two guards took their places on either side of me. Neither touched me.
I took back my pen and walked toward the exit.
As I passed a black marble column, I saw Leander Vale.
He was staring at the only name on that wall.
I had nearly reached the door when Evander called after me.
I didn’t turn around.
A silver-gray document was held out beside me.
“Friday. Ten a.m.,” he said.
At the top, it read:
Grafton & Bell
Original Source Authentication
Required Signatory: Aveline
“One signature,” Evander said, “and it becomes Sabine’s ring.”
I finally turned to face him.
“Don’t cut it.”
His expression didn’t change.
“Then come sign.”
The night wind swept across my bare collarbone.
I folded the document and slipped it into my clutch.
He didn’t just want to give my mother’s diamond to someone else.
He wanted me to place it in her hands myself.