Chapter 2
Zoe
Our flight lands just after ten at night. Stepping from the plane onto South African soil is like an out-of-body experience. I feel lost and unanchored. This is home, and it’s not. I’ve become a stranger to my homeland and a stranger to myself. The woman who returns is nothing like the girl who left.
Seeming to understand my hesitation, the man my brother sent to rescue me from France, Russell Roux, takes my elbow and steers me through the throng of people toward the exit. Thankfully, I only have the bag I checked into hand luggage. We can make our way straight to the parking where an SUV waits.
I look at the familiar, yet unfamiliar, dark landscape as he drives. So much has changed in almost three years. There are more buildings and less open land. The roads and signposts are different. It’s as if my world has moved on without me while I was stuck in a very bad dream. A bittersweet dream. Despite the bad, there was also the kindness, like when Maxime got me into one of the most reputable fashion designing schools in France or the time he told his cousin, Sylvie, to befriend me. He might’ve gone about it the wrong way, using his power instead of allowing me to win these things on my own merit, but he did it because he wanted me to be happy. The lies and deceit of his twisted methods hurt, but his intentions weren’t always bad. All those tender moments we shared when he made himself vulnerable and opened up to me to teach me how to open up to him had to have meant something. At least that’s what I choose to believe. The alternative is much too devastating and bleak for my heart to survive.
I made it this far. I got away from Maxime Belshaw, a French mafia boss who enjoyed toying with me by playing cruel games. Europe and everything that happened there are behind me. From here, I can only grow stronger.
Russell takes the road to the Vaal River and stops in front of a quaint cottage with a private jetty lit by a row of walkway lamps. The dark silhouette of a man is visible in the porch light. He stands by the rail, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting. I’d recognize that tall, indestructible frame with the permanent tension in the shoulders anywhere.
Damian.
The stance throws me right back into the past to a boy who expected the worst from the people who was supposed to love us, a boy who always had to be ready to defend himself against violence and prejudice. Like a puppy kicked too many times, he grew up into a vicious dog. For the most part, he was a mistrusting and cynical adolescent, but the Damian I remember before he went to jail had hope and ambition. Who is the man today? How does being locked behind bars for a crime one didn’t commit change a person?
Russell unlocks the doors. A part of me wants to run to my brother while another part can’t get out of the car. Time and everything that filled up that time hold me back. We haven’t seen each other in seven years. For six of those, he’s been in prison. I’ve spent three in my own prison, and it changed me. I’m out of place, and I’m scared. Damian and I will be strangers to each other, but Russell is waiting, so I get out and pause.
There’s more to my hesitation than just my trepidation. I don’t want to put Damian in danger. Maxime will come after me. I’ll have to disappear, but before I do, I have to make sure Damian knows about Maxime’s schemes. I have to tell him his trusted friend and cellmate, Zane da Costa, sold information to Maxime about Damian’s plans to take back the mine Dalton stole from him. He needs to know Maxime kidnapped me to hold a sword over his head, ensuring my brother would continue selling the diamonds from the mine directly to the Belshaw family by cutting out the middlemen.
When I finally manage to put one foot in front of the other, Damian comes down the steps. We meet each other halfway. The moment his face becomes visible in the headlights of the car, all my reservations vanish. He’s exactly as I remember, albeit a little older. Yet he’s different too. The man who stands in front of me is no longer the strongest boy in the neighborhood. He’s grown into something much more powerful. He looks unbreakable, and I feel better for it.
He holds out his arms. “Zee.”
The minute he says his childhood name for me, I fall into his embrace, letting his strength fortify me.
“Hey.” He brushes a hand over my hair. “You’re safe. It’s all right. You’re here.”
I’ve shed enough tears for a lifetime, but more flow at his words. This is only the first step. There’s a long and difficult process of letting go ahead.
“Thanks, Russell,” Damian says.
Russell salutes. “You take care of her.”
A look passes between the men. It says I’m pretty much screwed up, enough for Russell to have noticed.
Sniffing away my tears, I offer Russell a sincere, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He hands my bag to Damian. “I’ll see you around.”
“Come,” Damian says, turning toward the house when Russell gets back into the car. “You must be tired.”
“I’m sorry for making you wait up so late.”
He throws an arm around my shoulders. “You don’t owe me any excuses. That’s what brothers are for.”
He leads me up the steps and opens the door to let me inside. We enter a small entrance with a lounge on the left. It’s cozy. The furniture is ethnic with orange, green, and red scatter cushions. Woven rugs cover the wooden floors. He goes ahead of me down a short hallway to a spacious kitchen overlooking the water. It smells of chocolate cookies.
He dumps my bag on the floor and pulls a chair out by the table. “Sit.”
I take the seat while he fills a kettle with water and prepares two mugs of Rooibos tea. Putting one down in front of me, he says, “You don’t have to tell me anything now. We can talk in the morning if you’re tired.”
My laugh is strained. “I doubt I’ll be able to sleep.” Plus, the sooner he knows everything, the better.
His gaze is piercing but his tone gentle. “Is someone after you, Zee?”
“Yes,” I admit with a gush of air that tumbles from my chest. Just as I open my mouth to tell him the truth, a boy of about three years with curly hair and blue eyes walks into the kitchen.
“Daddy?” he says in a sleep-thick voice, rubbing his eyes with his small fists.
Damian opens his arms. “Hey, Josh. What’s up, buddy?” When Josh walks into his embrace, he picks him up and settles him on his knee. “We have a visitor. This is my sister, Zee.”
Dumbfounded, I stare at the child. I’m an aunt? Damian has a child? When? While he was in prison? How’s that even possible?
“There you are, Josh,” a sweet, musical voice says from the door.
I turn my head toward the sound. A stunning woman with the same startling blue eyes as the boy and golden hair that cascades in waves over her shoulders stands barefoot in the door. She’s wearing a short silk robe. My gaze drops to where her hand rests over her big belly. The diamond on her ring finger catches my eye.
Oh, my God.
The change in Damian when he looks at the petite woman is incredible. His features soften. The hardness in his eyes I attribute to our difficult childhood melts to dopey puddles. A gentle smile curves his lips. He looks at her as if nothing else matters, as if she’s the focal point of his existence. Wow. My brother is a conquered man. He’s a worshipper.
Balancing Josh in one arm, Damian gets to his feet and walks to the woman. He places a hand over hers on her stomach. Concern laces his voice. “Everything all right?”
The woman reaches for Josh. “I heard him getting up and didn’t want him to bother you.” She glances at me with a shy smile, exposing a dimple. “I’m sure you have plenty to talk about.”
“He’s too heavy for you,” Damian says, lowering Josh to his feet and folding a big hand around the boy’s smaller one. “You know what the doctor said about lifting heavy objects.”
Josh sticks the finger of his free hand in his mouth while studying me through his lashes.
“I’m Lina,” the woman says, making her way over to me.
Coming out of my haze, I pu
sh to my feet. Do I shake her hand or kiss her cheeks? How does she feel about housing a fugitive? Because that’s what I must seem to be. Before I can decide what to do, she pulls me into a hug.
“I’m so happy to finally meet you,” she says, her voice warm.
“Thank you for putting me up.”
“Are you kidding?” She holds me at arm’s length. “You’re family.”
I can’t help but notice the scars on her arms. What happened to her?
“You’re welcome here as long as you like,” she continues. “Our home is yours.”
“Thank you.” I smile for her benefit while anxiety quickens my pulse.
This changes everything. Damian has a wife—a pregnant wife—and a child. There’s no way I can tell him the truth now. I can’t put his family in danger. I remember Maxime’s promise only too vividly. He vowed he’d use anyone and anything against my brother to get his way. As long as Damian honors their deal, Maxime won’t have a reason to go after the family my brother so clearly loves. I better make sure Damian honors that deal.
“We’ll catch up in the morning,” she says, taking Josh’s hand from Damian’s. “Come on, baby, back to bed with you.” With a last smile in my direction, she leaves Damian and I alone.
He stares after them as they walk down the hallway.
“You have a wife? A son?” I ask, still bowled over.
Pride warms his eyes. “Josh is from Lina’s first marriage. I adopted him.”
“She’s pregnant,” I say stupidly, still unable to process the information.
“Yes.” His chest swells. “Six months.”
“Wow, Damian. Congratulations.” Emotions clog up my throat. “I’m so happy for you. She’s beautiful. She seems really nice.”
“Lina is…” Crossing his arms, he leans a shoulder against the wall. “I don’t have words to describe her. Amazing doesn’t do her justice.”
I never thought I’d see the day. My brother really is a lost case. It makes my smile broad and my heart warm. “You deserve happiness. How did you meet?”
He rubs a hand over his face. There’s a short hesitation before he speaks. “She’s Dalton’s daughter.”
“The man who put you in jail?” I exclaim. “The man who stole your discovery?”
His regard becomes closed-off. “It’s a long story.”
“How long have you been married?”
“Little over a year.”
I do a quick calculation. “When did you get out?”
Understanding the line of my questioning, he says, “I married Lina a week after I’d gotten out.”
“A week?” I exclaim, sensing more behind the story.
“It’s complicated. Why don’t you tell me why you need a false identity instead?”
I think fast. “I had to get away.”
“I’ve gathered.” He scrutinizes me. “Why?”
“I wrote to you, you know,” I say, clutching my hands behind my back.
“The last letter I got was three years ago.”
“I know.” I lower my gaze.
It was the letter Maxime forced me to write in Venice on the luxury hotel stationary. It said I met a foreigner, fell in love, and left the country with him. That I was so happy I was never coming back. The bitter betrayal of finding out Maxime never mailed any letter I wrote to Damian after that is still a pain I’m battling to process.
Since I can’t explain why it seems like I abandoned him, I can only say, “I’m sorry.”
“I understand.” His lips quirk. “Love can be all-consuming.”
“It’s not that,” I say quickly. “Maxime…” Shit, just saying his name is like wringing my heart in my chest. “He’s very possessive.”
Questions dance in his eyes as he narrows them a fraction. “I see.”
“Things didn’t work out between us, Damian.” It’s not difficult to act. The hurt must be written on my face.
“What happened, Zee?”
I give him as much truth as I can. “He’s marrying someone else.”
Damian’s expression darkens. “I’m guessing you’re not on the run because he dumped you.”
“No.” I fiddle with the hem of my jacket. “He didn’t want to let me go.”
“He expected you to be his mistress?”
“It’s an arranged marriage.”
Damian drops his arms at his sides. “That son of a bitch.”
“You know how it is with powerful families.”
“Like hell I do.”
This is not how the conversation should be going. I can’t turn Maxime into Damian’s enemy. I can’t endanger my brother’s family. Damian deserves this happiness more than anyone I know.
“Oh, come on, Damian. Don’t tell me marrying your enemy’s daughter the week after you’d gotten out of jail wasn’t business.”
He stares at me with a broody look.
“Maxime and I,” I say, “we couldn’t work things out. Let’s just say we didn’t agree about how I left. It’s complicated, to quote your earlier words. I just don’t want him to come after me, okay? I don’t want to be found, that’s all.”
He searches my eyes. “You love him.”
“I’ll get over it.”
Walking over, he places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” When he pulls away, I say, “There’s more you should know.”
I sit down again, hiding my expression behind a veil of hair. “You and Maxime aren’t exactly strangers to each other.”
“What?” He takes the chair opposite me and leans his elbows on the table. “How do I know this asshole?”
“I don’t think you’ve ever met,” I say, glancing at him, “but you are doing business.”
“How’s that possible?”
“You sell diamonds to him.”
“Wait.” He leans back in the chair, a frown pulling his eyebrows together. “The Belshaws? That Maxime?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck, Zee.” He regards me with disbelief. “He’s mafia. The mafia.”
“I know.”
“Now I understand why you needed to become someone else.” His gaze pierces mine. “How did you meet?”
I think back to the story Maxime told me when he admitted why he kidnapped me, the one he was going to tell Damian if he ever had to manipulate my brother into honoring their diamond deal by confessing our so-called relationship. The lie is a rehearsed one. It comes easily.
“Three years ago, when the mine still belonged to Dalton, Maxime came to see him about business. Maxime wanted to know how the mine came about. Dalton told him about your discovery. He said you approached him for funding but stole a diamond from him and ended up in jail. Maxime said it didn’t make sense that someone who’d just discovered a whole riverbed full of diamonds would steal one, so he looked me up to hear my side of the story.”
Damian drums his fingers on the table. “Why didn’t he look me up in jail if he was so curious?”
“He’s mafia. The correctional service isn’t exactly a place he likes to hang out. In any event, he invited me for dinner and one thing led to another.” At least this part is true.
“So, he asked you to leave with him and took you to Venice.”
“Exactly. The rest is history.”
“Is it?”
“What are you implying?”
Folding his hands together, he holds my gaze. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
It’s hard to maintain eye contact. It’s hard to ask him what I’m about to ask, but if Damian rocks the boat, his family will get hurt. “I want you to honor your deal with him.”
“You mean continue to sell directly to the Belshaws?” His voice fills with contempt. “I don’t fucking think so.”
“Please, Damian.” Reaching across the table, I take his hand. “Please, don’t cut them out.”
His jaw clenches. “Why? I was anyway planning on cutting out the direct buyers and go back to selling via the brok
ers. Why should I favor a man who took you away from your home only to dump you for a pure breed wife?”
“Because I love him,” I say, squeezing his fingers. Of everything, this is the biggest truth.
The fire burns cold in his eyes as he considers me, but understanding flashes in their depths. Damian understands love. He knows what it means.
“Rather than cutting him deals, I have a good mind to go over there and kick his fucking ass,” Damian says.
“For me,” I beg. “Do it for me. Please.”
Sighing, he turns his face toward the garden spotlights that shine through the window. After a long silence, he faces me again. “Fine, Zee, but I’m doing this for you. If I had my way, I’d make sure the fucker goes down.”
“Thank you.” Relief spreads through me. “That means a lot to me.”
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
“No, he doesn’t.” No one deserves what Maxime has done in the name of power and money.
He pats my hand. “It’ll get better.”
I doubt that, but I smile for his benefit. My shoulders remain tense. He needs to know Zane is his enemy, but how do I bring up the subject without telling him how I found out? Damian will want to know, and I can’t tell him Zane has been spying for Maxime’s family.
I clear my throat. “I’m glad you’re out.” I look around the kitchen. “I’m glad about all of this. You deserve it.”
“Thank you.”
“How’s your cellmate? What’s his name again? Zane, right? Do you keep in touch?”
He stiffens. “He’s dead.”
“Oh.” Wow. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
From the way he closes off, the subject isn’t open for discussion. At least he has one enemy less.
“Come on.” He pushes to his feet. “Let me show you the room we’ve prepared for you.”
I stand. “I really appreciate that.”
“Anytime, Zee.”
“Thank you for the passport and for getting me out.”
He smiles. “You can always count on me. What are your plans? I’m not pushing you to make hasty decisions, and I don’t want you to think you’re not welcome here. I just want to know how I can help.”
Diamonds are Forever: A Diamond Magnate Novel (Diamonds are Forever Trilogy Book 3) Page 2