Page 166 of Brutal Heir

He strolled to the first showcase and lifted a necklace from its black velvet cushion. “This is called the Idol’s Eye.”

He stepped behind me. “Lift your hair, dolcezza.”

Knowing I should object, I obeyed instead.

His fingers, light as silk, brushed my nape as he fastened the necklace.

A delicate shiver traced my spine.

His fingertips skimmed the diamond chain, barely touching my skin. “Seventy carats. As you can see from the faint bluish tinge, it hails from the legendary Golconda mines. Once owned by a sultan of the Ottoman Empire.”

I hovered my fingers over the chain, hesitant to touch the mesmerizing diamond.

“Did you know there are diamonds inside stars? In meteorites?”

“At the heart of the stone around your neck lies a fragment of our vast universe, fallen to Earth over ten billion years ago.”

His lips brushed my throat.

I let out a helpless gasp.

“Diamonds capture the light of a thousand stars. That is why they have power. Hypnotic. Eternal.”

Desire tangled with reason, my pulse a frantic beat. My body ached to turn, to feel his mouth against mine.

And then, just as swiftly as he’d closed in, he withdrew.

Leaving me cold.

Leaving me craving.

He moved to another showcase and withdrew a magnificent brooch. A diamond-encrusted bow cradling a pear-shaped, brilliant-cut diamond—a stunning watery sage-green, the color both elusive and bewitching.

Sebastian reached inside my collar, his fingers brushing the swell of my breast as he pinned the brooch to my black crepe Gucci dress. “This is the Dresden Green. Once owned by kings.”

He then took my hand and, in an almost mock wedding ceremony, slipped an equally stunning pear-shaped green diamond ring onto my finger.

It had to be over one hundred and fifty carats.

The weight was almost oppressive.

I reached to remove it, but his firm grip stopped me.

After swallowing past my unease, I whispered, “What is all this, Sebastian?”

He traced his thumb over my knuckles. “It is the fifth week. The diamantaires are bringing their sightholders to review their boxes.”

I exhaled sharply. The sacred ritual.

The House of Diamanti controlled the world’s diamond supply with an iron fist, operating on a five-week cycle.

The process was meticulous: sorting at the mine, cleansing with acid, categorizing by cleavage and color into over a thousand classifications. The fourth week, diamantaires finalized their orders.

And the fifth week?

Sight week.

A guarded, highly ritualized event. Only the wealthiest, most vetted clients were granted entry.