Page 14 of Crowned

“Fine. Have your twelve months,” Dad finally growls. “We will call it a mourning period, but we are flying home today.”

I sigh and gaze around the square, pretending to think. “All right. But I have one more condition.”

His eyes bulge. “Another condition? What is it?”

“Can I please borrow three hundred euros?”

Dad seems almost offended by such a small amount. “Why do you need three hundred euros?”

I nod at the pawnshop across the piazza. “I sold some jewelry there last week when I was running out of money. I’d like to buy it back before we leave.”

Dad digs out his wallet, muttering to himself about “that old hag” while he counts out the money and slaps it in front of me. He grabs my wrist as I take it and get to my feet. “Don’t try anything stupid. Mikhail and Dmitry will be right outside the door.”

I struggle in his grip for a moment and enjoyment flashes through his eyes. Finally, I wrench myself out of his grip. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Mikhail and Dmitry close in on me as I approach the pawnshop. I can feel Dad’s beady eyes lasering into my back, and my skin crawls.

The man inside the shop is in his late forties and beams at me from behind a glass counter filled with second-hand watches, earrings, and chunky gold pinkie rings. I have been watching this shop and the owner for weeks. Nothing about the place seems out of the ordinary, but I have a strong suspicion that this jeweler is involved with the local Venetian mafia, which controls this northern part of Italy.

I only have a few minutes. I give the man a cursory smile and get straight to the point. “Lei parla inglese?”

“Of course.”

“My name is Lilia Brazhensky. My father is Aran Brazhensky. He has jewels to sell. Jewels that I believe your friends will be interested in.”

The man gives me an ingratiating smile. “Signorina, I am more than happy to do business with you. I buy any quality gold by weight for a very good price.”

He thinks I’m a tourist with a few necklaces to sell. I slip a hand into my bag and find the small compartment I sewed into the lining. When I draw it out, there’s a pink diamond glistening on my palm.

As soon as I place it on the counter, the man’s mouth drops open. He reaches for the stone along with his magnifying eyepiece and inspects it without a word. Every second that ticks by makes me want to shout at him to hurry up, but it’s vital that I appear calm and confident.

When he finally looks up, the man’s eyes are gleaming. “A diamond such as this is very rare,signorina.”

Of course it is. Konstantin sourced only the best stones to crown his queen.

“My father understands…sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Marco Bartoli.”

“Mr. Bartoli. My father understands that you are in a unique position to find a buyer for diamonds such as these.”

“There are more?” He goggles at me.

“Of course,” I say with a careless shrug.

Bartoli licks his lips and glances around the empty shop, before dropping his voice, “How many diamonds?”

Cha-ching. “Sixteen.”

His eyes widen. Sixteen pink diamonds. A delectable collection for anyone who appreciates good stones. “All as perfect as this one?”

“Of course, and worth fourteen million dollars. My father is in a hurry, so he’ll accept six million in equivalent cryptocurrency. Will your friends be interested?”

“Si, signorina. I think they will be interested.”

Of course they will. At this price, these diamonds are a steal. Konstantin would probably weep if he knew how I was practically giving them away.

“Papa and I are having coffee in the square, but he is not to be approached by anyone. He can’t be seen with people like you.” It grates on my nerves to sayPapa, like I hold a shred of affection for the man, but I’m playing the role of a doting daughter.

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