Chapter 3 — The Woman Wearing My Grandmother’s Emeralds
Chapter 3 — The Woman Wearing My Grandmother’s Emeralds
Camille touched the emerald before she said anything.
It was a small movement.
Almost unconscious.
Her fingers closed around the pendant as if she suddenly remembered that the stone hanging against her chest did not belong to her.
I noticed.
Julian noticed too.
For the first time since I had walked into the penthouse, neither of them looked at me like I was the problem.
They looked at the necklace.
Then at each other.
Then back at me.
I held the black owner’s keycard loosely between two fingers.
"Take it off."
Camille's face tightened.
Julian stepped forward.
"Elena."
"Take it off."
"You're making this worse."
I looked at him.
"Worse for whom?"
He didn't answer.
Camille finally spoke.
"It's just jewelry."
I turned toward her.
"No."
My voice was calm.
"It's history."
She smiled nervously.
"I didn't know."
"You knew enough to wear it."
Julian interrupted.
"Camille didn't know it was stolen."
I looked at him.
"Stolen?"
He froze.
"You just called it stolen."
His expression changed.
"I meant—"
"You said it was found in storage."
"I did."
"You told me it had been lost."
"Elena, this isn't the time."
"Then when is?"
I stepped closer.
"After you've given away everything else?"
Camille's face flushed.
She looked at Julian.
"Tell her."
"Tell me what?"
Julian shook his head.
"Nothing."
Camille's voice sharpened.
"You said she would never find out."
My heart stopped.
Julian stared at her.
"Camille."
She realized her mistake.
Too late.
I looked between them.
"What exactly wasn't I supposed to find out?"
Neither spoke.
I smiled.
"Interesting."
I walked toward the windows.
Manhattan was beginning to brighten.
Dawn was approaching.
The city looked peaceful from twenty stories above the street.
Inside the penthouse, everything was breaking.
"Camille."
She looked at me.
"How long have you known about my family?"
Her eyes widened.
"I don't."
"That's a lie."
"No."
"Then why did Julian tell you the emerald was valuable?"
She looked at him.
He looked away.
I already had my answer.
"You knew."
She swallowed.
"Not everything."
"Enough."
Julian stepped between us.
"Stop interrogating her."
I stared at him.
"You defended her."
"She's not the one who betrayed you."
The words came out before he could stop them.
Silence.
I looked at him.
"Then who did?"
He closed his eyes.
"You know."
"No."
I stepped closer.
"I know you slept with her."
He said nothing.
"I know you gave her my grandmother's necklace."
Nothing.
"I know you moved money."
His eyes snapped open.
"How much?"
I smiled.
"Eight point seven million."
Camille looked at him.
"What?"
Julian turned toward her.
"Stay out of this."
She took a step backward.
"Eight point seven million?"
"Camille."
"Where did you get that money?"
Julian's expression hardened.
"Don't."
She looked frightened now.
That was the first moment I realized something important.
Camille knew Julian was cheating.
She knew he had money.
She knew he had power.
But she didn't know everything.
She didn't know the empire belonged to my family.
And she certainly didn't know what he had been doing with that money.
I looked at the emerald.
"Take it off."
Camille's hand went to the clasp.
She hesitated.
Then she removed it.
The pendant rested in her palm.
For a second, she looked at it differently.
Not as a gift.
As evidence.
She walked toward me.
"Here."
I held out my hand.
She placed it there.
The emerald was cold.
I remembered my grandmother's fingers.
She had worn it the night she told me something I hadn't understood.
I had been sixteen.
We were sitting in her bedroom.
She had opened an old wooden box.
Inside was the emerald.
I had asked why she never wore diamonds.
She had smiled.
"Diamonds impress people."
She lifted the emerald.
"Emeralds remember."
I had laughed.
"Remember what?"
"Who they belong to."
At sixteen, I thought it was another one of her strange sayings.
Now I understood.
I turned the pendant over.
There was a tiny engraving beneath the setting.
Three letters.
V.H.T.
Vale Heritage Trust.
My grandmother had marked it.
Not for beauty.
For ownership.
Camille looked at me.
"I didn't know."
I studied her.
"Did Julian tell you it belonged to my family?"
She hesitated.
"Yes."
"Did he tell you where he got it?"
"He said it was his."
"That's not what I asked."
She looked down.
"He said you didn't want it anymore."
I almost laughed.
"He told you I gave it to him?"
"No."
"He told you I wouldn't care?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
I looked at Julian.
"You told her I didn't care."
He remained silent.
"You told her my grandmother's emerald meant nothing to me."
"Elena—"
"You knew exactly what it meant."
His face hardened.
"I didn't think you'd make this into a war."
I looked at him.
"You made it a war when you gave away my grandmother's legacy to your mistress."
Camille suddenly spoke.
"I didn't ask for it."
Julian turned toward her.
"What?"
"I didn't ask for the necklace."
"Camille."
"You gave it to me."
"I know."
"You said it was a symbol."
I looked at her.
"A symbol of what?"
She swallowed.
"That I was going to be your future."
The room became silent.
Julian looked furious.
Camille's eyes filled with tears.
"You told me you were going to divorce her."
I looked at Julian.
He didn't deny it.
"How long?"
Camille whispered:
"Six months."
"Six months?"
"That's what he said."
I nodded slowly.
"So while I was building your resorts, you were promising another woman my life."
Julian's jaw tightened.
"I was going to leave."
"When?"
"Soon."
"After what?"
He didn't answer.
"After you transferred the remaining assets?"
His silence told me enough.
Camille looked at him.
"What does she mean?"
Julian ignored her.
I turned toward Camille.
"You should ask him."
She stared at Julian.
"What assets?"
He finally snapped.
"Enough."
Camille flinched.
I watched her face change.
Fear.
Then realization.
Then anger.
She had just discovered that the man she thought was going to make her a queen might have been preparing to leave her with nothing too.
My phone vibrated.
Margaret.
I answered.
"Yes?"
"Elena, we've found something."
"What?"
"Regarding the emerald."
I looked at the pendant.
"What?"
"It was not purchased."
"I know."
"No."
Her voice became serious.
"It was transferred."
"From where?"
"The Vale Heritage Trust."
I frowned.
"To whom?"
There was a pause.
"Julian."
I looked at him.
"Under what authority?"
"That's the problem."
"What problem?"
"He had no authority."
My grip tightened around the phone.
"Then how did he get it?"
"We're checking."
"Find out."
"There's more."
"What?"
"The transfer occurred eighteen months ago."
My stomach tightened.
Eighteen months.
Julian had given Camille the necklace six months ago.
Which meant he had taken it from the family long before that.
"Why?"
"We don't know."
"Find out."
"I will."
The call ended.
I looked at Julian.
"Eighteen months."
His face changed.
"You know what I'm talking about."
He didn't respond.
"What did you do eighteen months ago?"
"Nothing."
"You transferred the emerald."
His eyes narrowed.
"You were never supposed to know about that."
I went still.
"What did you just say?"
He realized his mistake.
I stepped closer.
"Why did you transfer it?"
"Elena."
"Why?"
He looked at Camille.
Then at me.
"I needed collateral."
"For what?"
Silence.
"Julian."
"I had a problem."
"What problem?"
He looked away.
"A loan."
I stared.
"You borrowed against my grandmother's emerald?"
"Temporarily."
My hands went cold.
"How much?"
He said nothing.
"How much?"
"Two million."
I almost couldn't breathe.
"You risked a family heirloom for two million dollars?"
"It was supposed to be temporary."
"And then?"
"I paid it back."
"With what?"
He didn't answer.
I knew.
"The company."
He looked at me.
"Which company?"
"The one you used to move the eight point seven million."
His face went pale.
Camille stared at him.
"What did you do?"
Julian finally shouted.
"Both of you, stop!"
The room fell silent.
I had seen him angry before.
But this was different.
He wasn't angry.
He was cornered.
My father called.
I answered.
"Elena."
"Dad."
"Are you at the penthouse?"
"Yes."
"Is Julian there?"
"Yes."
"Good."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"Because you need to hear this while he's present."
My eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"Ask him about the acquisition in Zurich."
Julian's face changed.
I noticed.
"What acquisition?"
My father said:
"Ask him."
I looked at Julian.
"What's in Zurich?"
He didn't move.
"Julian?"
He stared at me.
"Who told you?"
"My father."
He swore under his breath.
"What acquisition?"
"Elena, you don't understand."
"Then explain."
My father was still on the phone.
I heard him say:
"Ask him who he bought it for."
I stared at Julian.
"Who did you buy the Zurich property for?"
His face had gone completely white.
Camille looked confused.
"What property?"
Julian didn't answer.
My father spoke quietly.
"Elena, I think you should leave the penthouse."
"Why?"
"Because if I'm right, Julian wasn't building an empire for himself."
I looked at Julian.
"Then who?"
My father paused.
"For the person who financed his first expansion."
I felt the room tilt.
"Who?"
But before my father could answer, Julian's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
The color drained from his face.
He didn't answer.
The phone stopped.
Then rang again.
This time, he looked at me.
I saw fear.
Real fear.
"Who is it?"
He whispered:
"I don't know."
The phone rang a third time.
Julian finally answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice came through.
Even from several feet away, I could hear it.
"You have forty-eight hours."
Julian froze.
"For what?"
"To fix the problem."
"What problem?"
"The woman."
Julian looked at me.
The voice continued.
"She knows."
The call ended.
No one spoke.
Camille was the first.
"Who was that?"
Julian put the phone down.
"I don't know."
"You know him."
"No."
"You looked terrified."
"Camille, shut up."
She stepped back.
"No."
Julian stared at her.
She shook her head.
"I'm done."
"What?"
"I'm done."
She pointed at him.
"You lied to me."
"Camille."
"You told me Elena was leaving."
"I was going to handle it."
"You told me the company was yours."
"It is."
She looked at me.
"Is it?"
I answered.
"No."
Camille stared at me.
I didn't smile.
She looked at Julian again.
"You told me you were going to give me a resort."
He said nothing.
"Which one?"
Nothing.
"Julian!"
He snapped:
"The Miami property."
Camille's face lit with disbelief.
"You promised me Miami?"
"Yes."
I almost laughed.
"That's not yours either."
She stared at me.
"What?"
"The Miami property belongs to the Vale Heritage Trust."
Camille looked at Julian.
"Is that true?"
He said nothing.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"You promised me something you didn't own."
I watched her slowly understand.
She hadn't been chosen.
She had been used.
At 5:02 a.m., my father arrived.
He walked into the penthouse without knocking.
Julian immediately stiffened.
"Victor."
My father ignored him.
He looked at me.
"You okay?"
I nodded.
Then he saw the emerald in my hand.
He stopped.
"Where did you get that?"
"From Camille."
He looked at her.
Then at Julian.
"Of course."
Julian stepped forward.
"You don't have the right—"
My father raised one hand.
"Don't."
Julian stopped.
My father walked toward me.
He examined the pendant.
"Your grandmother wore this when she signed the original trust."
"I know."
"Do you know what it means?"
I looked at him.
"I think I'm beginning to."
He nodded.
"The emerald isn't the valuable part."
"What is?"
He pointed to the engraving.
"That."
V.H.T.
"The person wearing that necklace wasn't simply wearing jewelry."
He looked at Julian.
"They were carrying a piece of the family title."
Julian scoffed.
"This is ridiculous."
My father turned toward him.
"No."
He smiled.
"It's about to become very expensive."
My father handed me a document.
"Read this."
I opened it.
The title was:
VALE HERITAGE ASSET TRANSFER AGREEMENT
I scanned the page.
The emerald was listed as a protected family asset.
Transfer required approval from the primary beneficiary.
My name.
My signature was missing.
I looked up.
"Forgery?"
My father nodded.
"Most likely."
Julian went still.
"That's not what happened."
"Then explain it."
"I had authorization."
"From whom?"
"From the trustees."
My father smiled.
"Which trustees?"
Julian didn't answer.
"Because none of them signed."
My father handed the document to Margaret, who had entered behind him.
She placed a second page beside it.
The original.
The signatures were different.
The transfer document Julian had used contained a forged signature.
Not mine.
My grandmother's.
My grandmother had been dead for six years.
Julian stared at the pages.
"I didn't forge that."
I looked at him.
"Then who did?"
He didn't answer.
My father did.
"That's what we need to find out."
The room became silent.
For the first time, the story had become bigger than adultery.
Bigger than the resort.
Bigger than Julian.
Someone had helped him access protected family assets.
Someone had forged documents.
Someone had financed his expansion.
Someone had called him tonight.
And someone knew that I had discovered the truth.
My father looked at me.
"We have a problem."
"What?"
"Your grandfather had another rule."
"What rule?"
"Never assume the man holding the knife is the one who ordered the attack."
I looked at Julian.
Then at Camille.
Then at the emerald.
My father continued.
"Julian may have been stealing from us."
He paused.
"But someone has been teaching him how."
I felt a chill.
"Who?"
"We don't know."
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One message.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN THE RAIN.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
THE EMERALD WAS NEVER THE TARGET.
My blood ran cold.
A third message appeared.
YOU WERE.
I looked up.
My father saw my face.
"What is it?"
I handed him the phone.
He read the messages.
His expression changed instantly.
"Elena."
"What?"
He looked toward the windows.
"Get away from the glass."
Everyone froze.
"Why?"
He pointed toward the street below.
A black SUV had stopped across from the building.
Engine running.
Windows tinted.
I stared.
My father pulled me backward.
"Security."
Two men moved toward the elevator.
Julian stepped toward me.
"Elena—"
I stopped him.
"Don't."
He looked hurt.
But I no longer cared.
The woman he had humiliated had become the one person standing between him and the consequences of his own decisions.
And now someone else was coming for me.
Not for my money.
Not for my resort.
Not even for the emerald.
They were coming because I had finally remembered who I was.
My father looked at the security feed.
The SUV door opened.
A man stepped out.
He looked up directly at the building.
Then raised one hand.
In it was a photograph.
My photograph.
Taken twenty years earlier.
I was standing beside my grandfather.
On the back, written in black ink, were four words:
THE HEIR IS AWAKE.
My father stared at it.
Then whispered:
"Your grandfather was right."
I looked at him.
"About what?"
He turned toward me.
"The day you finally claimed the empire..."
He paused.
"...would be the day the people who stole it from us would finally come out of hiding."
May you like
And somewhere below us, a black SUV began moving again.
Straight toward the private entrance.
