7. THE BRIDE
THE brIDE
Andhra Pradesh, India
And off to India!
It was a long three-month journey, but Saint Catalina sailed well and provided the Mawr brothers with lavish accommodations that included a library, a music room, a jewelry workshop, and multiple offices.
Drasko was adjusting nicely, occasionally stealing food from the ship kitchen, afraid he would not have enough.
The little thief was given a wash, a haircut, and new clothes.
He snuck around the ship like it was a new country to explore, tailed Uriah everywhere, asked questions, smiled politely, yet always kept a knife in his pocket.
It humored Uriah.
“I shall prove you wrong,” Alfred, his brother, mused at dinner, observing the boy who had no manners and acted more like a stray dog.
“I shall let you do no such thing,” Uriah countered confidently, right away showing the boy how to use utensils, if only to aggravate his brother.
You see, during this trip, there was the sweetest addition to their company—Dr. Lewis. More precisely, his pretty daughter, Clara, who was eighteen years of age.
Naturally, Uriah wouldn’t let his brother win any bets or arguments. Even more so, when such conversations at dinners were held in the presence of Clara Lewis, the reason for Uriah’s fast-beating heart.
“Carbon is black and unimpressive,” Uriah would say proudly to his brother. “And yet, it morphs into the most beautiful stones on earth, diamonds.”
This comparison, of course, was intended at Drasko, who did not care about beautiful things but marveled at the abundance of food.
Clara Lewis clasped her hands in delight at such words. And Uriah’s heart fluttered at the sight of her.
Nothing tarnished his growing affection.
Not the seasickness he’d gotten used to.
Not the storm that damaged Saint Catalina in the Arabian Sea.
Not the death of six crew members from typhus.
Not even Clara’s loud laughter at his brother’s silly jokes.
For when Uriah was alone with her, drinking coffee at dinner on the upper deck, with the romantic lantern light and the infinite ocean around them, her lovely voice made him swell with happiness.
“You are such an impressive man. Will you tell me more about your diamonds, Mr. Mawr?”
“Uriah,” he corrected her every time, his heart howling at the moon when she blushed so sweetly.
Uriah could read the signs. Clara’s loud laughter with Alfred was simply courteous admiration, whereas her blushes and stolen glances at Uriah were a sign that she was as wild for him as he was for her.
Of that, Uriah was certain. Rarely was he wrong.
She would be his, he decided on that trip, envisioning a happy family, their children loving their kind mother and admiring their ambitious father, following in his footsteps and growing their diamond empire.
When they reached the Indian shore, Uriah was set on revealing a secret that no person in the world besides his brother knew—the Crimson Tear.
They had harbored the secret for some time, the diamond the size of a walnut, the rarest shade of red. Neither the Princie Diamond, nor the Koh-i-Noor, nor any other compared to it. The Crimson Tear was worthy of a queen or—Clara Lewis, naturally.
“You cannot keep it for yourself!” Alfred angrily argued when Uriah shared the idea of turning the diamond into a pendant. For Clara , Uriah decided.
“I shall buy out your share,” Uriah stated indifferently.
“You cannot. I do not agree.” Alfred’s lips curled in anger, eyes blazing. “We can auction the Crimson Tear off and make a fortune and an even bigger name for ourselves.”
But Uriah knew that his queen would have the best of everything, including the rarest diamond in the world.
He spent sleepless nights contemplating the proper way to propose. He spent days, high on happiness, showing Clara his villa and the mansions of his top employees, then the vast river delta of Andhra Pradesh that gave birth to his fortune.
No promises were exchanged, but the smiles Uriah and Clara shared at dinners indicated one thing—she knew, her father knew, and he, Uriah, knew that in a matter of days, he would propose, and a new life would begin.
The evening he chose for the special occasion, he arranged for a lavish celebration. The partners from Hyderabad, the lapidary moguls of Golconda, the traders from Delhi—the guests arrived from everywhere.
Uriah put on his best suit, the cufflinks made of white diamonds, the gold chain across his suit studded with blue ones.
The watch in his pocket, the custom piece made with 2500 melee diamonds, was checked every minute.
He glowed like the biggest diamond himself.
It was his time to shine. He would at last, after years of hard work, have it all.
The dinner took place in a luxury safari tent on a hill with a cliff that presented a breathtaking view of the Mawrs’ vast lands, the rice fields and the wheat fields, and the river that gave birth to their wealth.
Dozens of lanterns hung off mango and banyan trees and illuminated the luscious green lawn.
The musicians and servants wore colorful sarees and dhoti kurtas .
The best whisky and sweetest wines were served.
The most tender meats and richest curries spread a heavenly scent around.
The moon shone brightly. The chai poured freely.
An elephant was brought for the guests’ entertainment, though the only one who was impressed was little Drasko, who ripped his fancy English suit, trying to climb the majestic animal to the laughter of the guests.
During dinner, Clara didn’t meet Uriah’s eyes. Oh, she knew what he was about to do. His shy, sweet Clara was discreet. That was quite all right with him.
Uriah chose the right moment, cleared his throat, and tapped his silver spoon against his wine glass.
“I would like a minute of everyone’s attention, please,” he announced, his authoritative voice as always bringing everyone to full alert.
At that precise moment, Alfred stood up abruptly and raised his glass. “Yes! Ladies and gentlemen! We would like to make an announcement!”
Uriah’s jaw tightened as he glared at his already tipsy brother beaming and smoothing his mustache in that careless arrogant way of his.
Uriah’s eyes flashed with indignation when Alfred gestured to Clara Lewis. “Dear, will you please?”
And when she rose from her chair, Uriah felt a prickle of panic, a feeling so alien that he didn’t quite register its meaning then. Not until Clara raised her smiling eyes at Alfred and blushed. Blushed! For him!
Alfred grinned drunkenly. His arrogant gaze swept across the guests but skipped Uriah as he said, “Miss Clara and I have something to share with you all. Joyful news, my friends. We have decided to get married!”
If someone had asked Uriah before what humiliation was, he would have given a dictionary definition, an example, perhaps, never having experienced it himself. Not even when mocked for his facial scars at a young age.
Heartbreak? He had had no notion of such a thing.
Hate? Oh, he was good friends with it.
But now, it was boiling in his veins, the bile of it rising up to his throat, cutting off his air, and making the world go dark.
His blood pounded in his ears. His head roared.
And his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces as the guests rose from their seats, offering best wishes and loud congratulations.
They cheered, clinked their glasses, and hugged the lucky “lovebirds.”
But Uriah kept his gaze on his stupid glass of wine, unable to take a sip, say anything, or make eye contact in fear of showing his shock.
His own brother had betrayed him, cowardly and disgracefully, and now laughed with everyone, laughed , Uriah knew, at him .
Uriah’s mind roared. He clenched his teeth so hard they could crack. His gaze lowered, searching for something, a sign that he wasn’t the only one who recognized this ultimate act of betrayal.
Until they stopped on little Drasko.
Two things left an imprint on Uriah that night. His brother’s mocking laughter and Drasko’s angry gaze.
That moment defined Uriah’s life and his fast rise to power and madness.
That same moment determined Drasko’s fate.
The little thief from London was the only one who didn’t smile or cheer with the others, who didn’t raise his glass as he sat by Uriah’s side.
So young, yet he already understood the cruel games that rich men played.
His lips were pressed tightly together, his small hands balled into fists.
His unusually green eyes blazed with indignation as he shared this moment with the man who had taken him off the streets and given him shelter.
This was the silent camaraderie of an impoverished child, who was given the chance of a lifetime, and a powerful lord, who had been knocked off his feet, if only for tonight.
Drasko lowered his gaze.
Uriah lifted his. He finally mustered the strength to look at his brother and said, “Congratulations.”
His heart howled at the bright full moon, but this time, in searing pain. He decided that for the rest of his life, he would do everything to prove that no one, not a single living soul, would ever stand a chance at bringing him this low.
That very evening, he caught Clara alone, her gaze cowardly when it met his.
“Please, accept my congratulations,” Uriah said coldly, wanting to do something atrocious and destroy her utterly.
If she hadn’t responded, she would have been spared. But she cast her gaze down and said, “You must understand, Mr. Mawr…” Understand? “I would like to see my future child look at their father in admiration.” He frowned, still not understanding. “And not… be scared…”
Scared?
Just then, for a second—a mere second that decided the future of that very child—her eyes flicked to Uriah’s scars.
He had never loved anyone more. He had never loathed any person so much either.
But Clara Lewis was the proof that women were money hungry, they liked things shiny and perfect, and that was why they fancied diamonds.
For days, Uriah watched his brother and his fiancée and simmered with hate.
A month later, he attended their wedding and contemplated setting it on fire.
But Uriah wasn’t a simple-minded brute. Oh, no. The best revenge was drawn-out and etched with pain that wasn’t physical.
Uriah got rid of the silly notion called love and the boring one called family. His hope for heirs had been crushed. But he had the boy he was intending to raise in his image. And he still had the Crimson Tear and knew what to do with it.
The Mawr brothers were called the Diamond Kings, but there was never room for two kings. Uriah would prove it.
And fate was already working in his favor.
Nine months later, Clara gave birth to a child and died shortly afterward. Her father soon succumbed to malaria.
While Alfred drowned his sorrows in a bottle, Uriah gloated.
A small victory? Perhaps. Though not by his own hands.
One traitor was gone, leaving behind a baby girl who was the spitting image of her.
The child bore her mother’s eyes, and every time Uriah looked at her, hatred made his charred heart crack just a little more.
Even more so when he noticed Drasko getting attached to the little creature.
This wasn’t over, Uriah thought. No one would be spared. Neither would the spawn that reminded him of his single humiliating defeat.
“She shall be ruined, just like her mother,” he promised himself. “I shall make sure of it.”