Twenty-four #2
“Five hundred percent?” Aunt Ellen whispers, almost to herself. That’s over twice what we get on traditional diamonds.
My father breaks it with a low knock of his knuckles against the table. “And you’re sure this won’t dilute our reputation?”
“I’m sure. We’re not abandoning our heritage. We’re evolving. We’ll still offer timeless pieces, but this invites a new generation to discover Olivier. We can create collections for everything from black-tie galas to date night. We can even partner with celebrity designers.”
A pause, then my father nods slowly. “I think it’s genius. I love it.”
The hum of agreement spreads around the table—voices layering, heads nodding, the kind of energy that says the tide has turned.
Relief washes through me, and I finally let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Through the glass wall, I catch sight of Heather. She’s just outside, arms crossed, jaw tight. Not happy. She believes the brand’s legacy is enough, that if we keep doing what we’ve always done, customers will keep coming.
That only worked in the eighties and nineties. This is a new era. And today, the board is with me.
As we break for coffee, the board drifts toward the jewelry display for a closer look.
“These diamonds,” someone murmurs, “look like clouds.”
I nod, smiling, as if nothing is wrong. “When Felicity Ford’s model stepped onto the runway in that red dress—our red—I knew we had something extraordinary.”
Extraordinary. And missing. The dress still hasn’t surfaced, and the longer it’s gone, the more certain I am of who’s behind it.
During the coffee break, Veronica slips back into the room and catches my eye. I excuse myself and meet her just outside the door.
Her voice is low, urgent. “I pulled the feeds. The cameras were down for thirty minutes last night. No footage. No sign of anyone with the dress.”
My jaw tightens. Convenient. Too convenient. “So someone inside this building has it.”
Veronica hesitates, then nods. “That’s what it looks like.”
I don’t need to guess twice who. Heather wanted me off balance today, and she’ll do anything to get it.
“Thank you,” I murmur, forcing a smile to keep Veronica calm. “Send me a copy of the files. I’ll take it from here.”
As she heads off, the fury sharpens to a blade inside me. Heather thinks she’s clever. But I’m done playing defense.
The rest of the day blurs in a whirl of discussion, strategy, and approvals. By every measure, the presentation is a success. But in the back of my mind, the absence of Night to Remember beats like a war drum.
During a short break, I step into the hallway and catch Heather in a heated exchange with my father.
“You’re throwing away everything you built,” she snaps, her voice sharp enough to carry.
I can’t hear his reply.
Then she says, bitter and raw, “What about me?”
My spine stiffens. My fury crystallizes. That’s what it’s always been about. Not the brand. Not the mission. Just her. Her position. Her entitlement.
She notices me and smooths her expression, but the mask is off now. I’ve seen what’s underneath.
I walk toward them, calm and deliberate. “I take it you’ve heard the good news?”
Heather doesn’t bother with the usual politeness. “You’re making a huge mistake.”
“No,” I say evenly. “One day this company will be mine, and I plan to make it shine brighter than ever.”
Her eyes flick to my father, searching for something, reassurance, a promise. And I wonder, what exactly has he told her?
I lean in just enough for only her to hear. “The dress is gone, Heather. Cameras don’t lie. I’ll give you the rest of today to put it back. After that, I’m going to the police.”
The color drains from her face, but her chin lifts in defiance.
“What was that?” my father asks sharply. He’s closer than I realized, and his gaze flicks between us, suspicion etched into the lines of his face.
“I don’t know what she’s referring to,” Heather says too quickly, her voice brittle.
I meet his eyes, steady and unflinching. “Just a reminder that our security cameras record everything. If anything’s missing, we’ll know who’s responsible.”
His gaze lingers on Heather. Long enough that she shifts uncomfortably, her smugness cracking.
I keep my voice light but firm. “Heather, when my dad’s ready to retire, I hope the two of you travel the world. Eat amazing food. Find the best beaches. You’ve earned that kind of joy.”
My father chuckles under his breath, his eyes creasing with something like pride. That’s what he wants—freedom. A life beyond boardrooms and bottom lines. And if Heather is more invested in clinging to control than building a future with him, maybe she’s not the partner he needs.
I don’t wait for an answer. I turn on my heel and step back into the boardroom, leaving them both to stew. I slide my phone from my pocket, thumbs already moving across the screen. I text Dante and Matteo.
Me: The board is in. Fire and Ice Diamonds are greenlit. Please send the contracts. Antoine will coordinate quantities and designs.
Dante: Fantastic news. We’ll let your competitors know it’s exclusive.
Me: Thank you. Truly.
As the messages send, I glance for one that isn’t there. Nothing from Matteo. No congrats. Not even a thumbs-up. Whatever’s weighing on him, it’s heavy enough to keep him silent. I push the ache down, refusing to let it dim this win.
Instead, I dig through my bag until my fingers brush a slim rectangle—Inspector Lenning’s card. If Night to Remember isn’t in my office by the time I return, I’m calling him. Cameras don’t lie, and Heather won’t get away with this.
Richard joins me near the exit. “Ready to go?”
“Just need an espresso first.” I nod toward the café across the street. “Ophelia’s is calling.”
He heads to call the car while I slip inside. The scent hits instantly—dark roast, citrus, chocolate. I order a double espresso and savor every sip, the heat grounding me. If I didn’t need sleep, I’d live on these.
Stepping back outside, a flicker of movement catches in the corner of my eye. For the briefest second, I swear it’s Willow.
But when I turn, the sidewalk is empty. Just a trick of memory. Or maybe worry chasing me again.
On the way back to the car, I pass Heather on the sidewalk.
“Good night, Heather,” I say evenly.
She doesn’t answer, just shoots me a glare sharp enough to slice steel. Not just anger. Fear. She knows she’s losing.
I don’t flinch. Pride swells in my chest. My father believed in me today. He saw the vision. He backed it.
I’m not trying to push Heather out. I want what’s best for the company and for him. He’s ready to step back. I’m ready to step forward.
But the dress is still gone. And that changes everything. As soon as I slide into the car, I pull out Inspector Lenning’s card and dial.
If Heather thinks she can sabotage me from the inside, she’s about to find out how wrong she is.
I’m not just his daughter. I’m not a placeholder or a legacy hire. I’m the future of Olivier. And today? He finally saw it too.