Diamonds are Forever: A Diamond Magnate Novel (Diamonds are Forever Trilogy Book 3)

by Charmaine Pauls

  “I’d like to get a job and find my own place as soon as possible.” To hide where Maxime won’t find me.

  “I have more than enough money to take care—”

  “I want to be independent. I need to take back control of my life.”

  He nods. “I can understand that.”

  I also need time alone to heal. “If you know of any jobs, the information will be welcome.”

  “I can arrange a position at the mine for you.”

  “No.” Nowhere where Maxime will think to look for me. When Damian frowns, I smooth over my error. “I have to build this new life on my own. I don’t want to feel like I’m doing it with favors. I want to earn it.”

  “All right,” he says, “but if you change your mind—”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  “Are we job hunting for Zoe Hart or Amanda Clifford?”

  “Amanda. It’s safer like that.”

  He picks up my bag. “Let’s get you settled in.”

  Following him down the hallway, I’m already like two people living in the chest of one. I’m a contrast of feelings.

  I’m both hopeful and falling apart.

  Chapter 3

  Maxime

  Where is Zoe?

  I’m going out of my goddamn mind.

  We traced her car to the pound. It was towed away from a bus terminal. There are fifty or more busses leaving daily from that terminal with varying routes, but all of them lead around Marseille. The logical checkpoints are the harbor and airport.

  Zoe had enough money on her for a plane ticket to somewhere in Europe—Spain or Italy, or maybe the Netherlands—but she doesn’t have a passport. The one I forged to steal her from South Africa is still in the safe in my office. To be sure, I check the passenger lists of all flights that have left since Saturday. With my connections, it’s not difficult to get the information. Zoe Hart didn’t board a plane.

  She could’ve tried to get away by boat. It’s easier to smuggle someone on board a ship sailing to Africa or the States. On this, I can’t rely on help from the Italians. That door has closed for me. However, the Balkans owe me a favor. I call it in, sending pirate boats after the ships that have sailed to search each and every one. We track every vessel via satellite. No one escapes, not even the sailboats cruising the Atlantic or crossing the Mediterranean Sea for Corsica and Greece.

  At the same time, I run teams through the city and surrounding villages, questioning people and offering a reward for any information about Zoe, which accounts for a lot of false leads from people who are just after the money.

  I consider all options—hitchhiking, leaving on bicycle, and hiding right here under my nose. Sparing no expenses, I turn over the south of France, but the search is fruitless. It’s impossible for a woman without resources to disappear like this. If my enemies had caught her, they would’ve dumped her body on my doorstep by now.

  At first, that thought gives me nightmares. Then, it makes me an insomniac. I haven’t slept more than a couple of consecutive hours in weeks. My life is falling to pieces. Everything around me is going to hell. The pain is insufferable, like nothing I’ve felt. It’s cruel in design, both beautiful and punishing. It’s a dualistic pain, a two-headed monster that teaches me the joys of having found something precious and losing it.

  It makes me both alive and dead.

  Going for a different approach, I start rumors. I plant messages with an evil tiding, saying I’m going after her brother if she doesn’t give herself up.

  When no clues come up for several days, it leaves me with only one conclusion. Someone helped Zoe escape. She had an accomplice. If not, my threats would’ve smoked her out like one smokes scorpions out from under rocks. That means she had to communicate with someone. With her only dialing access Sylvie’s and my numbers, she would’ve had to borrow a phone. My guards swear she didn’t use theirs, and they never let her out of their sights. There’s no chance she used the phone of a random person in the street. I don’t get it, and as furious as I am, I can’t help but admire this flower of mine for managing what no one else has to date—to slip through my fingers.

  The only option left is that she somehow made it back to South Africa. If she did, she didn’t do it in her own name, because nothing comes up in my search for Zoe Hart. If she’d made it back to her brother, she would’ve spilled the beans. By now, he would’ve pulled the plug on our deal and started a war to avenge her. Yet Damian Hart is oddly quiet, carrying on just as before.

  Maybe too quiet.

  Hope rises with my suspicion. What if Zoe somehow managed to contact him and asked for help? Hart has his own connections and shady ways of accomplishing things. What if he provided her with a false passport and airfare? If she wants to stay hidden, he won’t stir the waters by changing our deal. He’d keep it exactly as is.

  I put a detail on Hart, but Zoe doesn’t show up on his doorstep or at his office. It looks like just another dead-end strategy. Unless I’m having the wrong person watched. Unless it’s not Damian who’s going to lead me to his sister.

  The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I’ve eliminated all other options. Without wasting more time, I book a plane ticket to South Africa.

  Chapter 4

  Zoe

  My days are empty and my nights even more so. Not a minute goes by that I don’t think of the man who kidnapped me. At night, I lie awake and torture myself with imagining his new life. Was the wedding big and flamboyant? Did he wear one of his tailored pinstriped suits or one of the fitted dark ones? Is the diamond Izabella wears on her finger from my own brother’s mine? Are they happy? Are they making things work like we somehow managed toward the end before I found out Maxime had a future wife? Did she move into Maxime’s bedroom or the femininely decorated one next to his? Are they fucking? Does he make her come? Is he tender and rough with her like he was with me? Does he drape her over his lap and ask what she’s done with herself all day? Does he teach her lessons? Does he reward her vulnerability with kindness?

  The questions torment me, but I can’t stop. I’m obsessed. I’m obsessed with Maxime Belshaw like only a woman in love can be.

  I got a job as a medical receptionist thanks to Lina. The psychiatrist she works for knew someone who needed a quick replacement for a staff member who went on maternity leave. It’s not a permanent position, but it’s a start. At least I’m earning money while looking for long-term employment. The salary allows me to rent a small first-floor apartment in Fourways. I didn’t have a choice but to let Damian pay the deposit to secure the lease. I needed to get out of Lina and Damian’s house fast, the very next day after my arrival.

  Damian and I are discreet about how and where we meet. He sometimes sends a driver to pick me up after work. We go to restaurants or bars where Damian trusts the owners. I dyed my hair blond and apply a self-tanning lotion on a weekly basis to give my pale skin a darker tone. Contact lenses change my eye color to brown. I’m different on the outside, and even as my new life slowly but surely starts again, what’s on the inside doesn’t change. The hurt doesn’t fade. I’ve just grown more used to it.

  To give myself a jumpstart in the right direction, I set new goals. I want to save enough money to afford a bigger place. I don’t want anything fancy, just a place I can call home. A small garden would be nice. I can’t get too attached to any place. I always have a bag packed with my fake passport and money so I can flee on a moment’s notice.

  I still find it hard to make friends. I can’t reach out to anyone who knew me as Zoe. The people who meet me as Amanda have questions about where I come from and why I’m not dating. It’s hard to answer those questions without lying, and it’s easier to simply avoid the curiosity by avoiding people altogether. It’s not healthy, but trust doesn’t come easily for me. It’s difficult to make friends when you’re secretive about your past and spending most of your nights alone, bleaching your roots so no one notices it’s not your natural color.

/>   Besides for dinners and drinks with my brother, the highlight of my month is the lunch I share with Lina. It’s not difficult to see why my brother is so taken with her. She’s kind, caring, and nonjudgmental. I have a feeling nothing I tell Lina will ever shock her. It’s comforting to be with someone who is undemanding and giving. She’s never asked about my reasons for running. I told her what I told Damian, and she’s accepted that without fishing for more information.

  Since she’s on maternity leave, we meet every Wednesday when I have my monthly afternoon off. Today we’re meeting at an outdoor play park in Midrand. I make sure to arrive early, doing a quick walk-through of the Italian restaurant and the outside terrace next to the play area. I note the exits and the quickest getaway routes, and make sure my car can’t be blocked in. These precautions are habits, like always keeping a bag packed. A few groups of moms are eating pizza with their kids inside, and two groups are gathered on the terrace. I choose a table close to one of the groups, even if it’s noisy. I prefer to blend in with the masses.

  Lina arrives with a blush on her cheeks despite the cooler autumn weather, Josh in hand. My heart warms at the sight of them. The weight on my shoulders lifts. That kid is my sunshine and joy. He’s the cutest thing since, well, ever. When he spots me, he pulls free from Lina’s hold and charges toward the table where I’m waiting.

  Taking the chocolate egg from my handbag, I crouch down and catch him in my arms just before he almost knocks me over.

  “Easy, Josh,” Lina says. “You’ll tackle your aunt to the ground.”

  Laughing, I ruffle his hair and hand him the treat. “This is for after lunch.”

  He glances at Lina.

  “After lunch,” she says sternly.

  “Thank you, Aunt Zee,” he says, throwing his arms around my neck.

  I melt. Wrapping my arms around him, I hug his small body. “You’re welcome.”

  “May I please go play, Mommy?”

  “Yes, honey, but stay close to our table.”

  He runs off to the jungle gym.

  “Here.” I pull out a chair for Lina in the shade. It’s the pregnancy hormones that are making her feel so overheated. I would’ve taken a table where it’s air conditioned inside, but I know she likes to survey Josh while he plays. “How are you?”

  “Hot,” she says with a broad smile, fanning herself with the menu. “I can’t wait for this baby to make her arrival.”

  Damian is nuts about Josh, but I can’t even begin to imagine how protective he’s going to be with a daughter. If the way he growls when men as much as glance in Lina’s direction is anything to go by, the poor girl won’t date until she’s thirty. If ever. I grin at that.

  “I got something for my niece.” I push the parcel wrapped in pink paper toward Lina.

  “Oh, Zee, that’s so kind of you.”

  It feels too weird for Damian and Lina to call me Amanda, and since Josh started calling me Zee, my sister-in-law adopted the habit. It’s less likely for people to connect it to Zoe, and it’s less confusing for Josh.

  She tears away the wrapping paper and gasps as she holds up the little dress. It’s white with silver stars and fairy wings.

  “I couldn’t resist. I thought it could be nice for her first photo shoot. Maybe.” I falter. “If you like. I know it’s cheesy.”

  “This is so sweet.” She squeezes my hand. “Thank you so much. You’re spoiling them.”

  “You’re welcome. They are my only nephew and niece, after all.”

  “I’m so happy Damian has you back. We’re all happy to have you.” Her regard turns pensive. “You’ve never heard from Ian or Leon?”

  “We grew apart while we were still young.”

  “Will you ever try to find them?”

  Leaning my chin in my hand, I say, “Maybe. As soon as I have my own life in order.”

  “How’s that going, by the way?” She pulls the pitcher of water with mint and cucumber slices closer and pours two glasses.

  “Great,” I say with enthusiasm.

  She hands me a glass. “Really?” Her look is intuitive and soft.

  “I’m getting there.” Taking a sip, I add, “One day at a time.”

  “I know a great shrink.” She winks. “I can even arrange for a discount.”

  “You mean your boss? Thanks, but no thanks.”

  It’s not that I haven’t considered talking to someone about my Stockholm syndrome. It’s just that I’m scared of endangering anyone I speak to. Call me paranoid, but nobody knows how powerful Maxime is better than me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s having all the shrinks in the country’s computers hacked for alert words like mafia, Marseille, France, and Stockholm.

  Lina says with a glint in her eyes, “Maybe it’s time to take the next step.”

  “What do you mean?” I glance toward Josh, keeping an eye on him as he climbs up the ladder to the top of the slide.

  “A date.”

  I look back at her. “What?”

  “You know.” She waves with a hand. “Going out for drinks with a guy. Maybe kiss him. Maybe let him stay over?”

  “Oh.” Dating hasn’t crossed my mind. “I’m not ready for that.”

  “Because you’re not moving on.”

  “You’re right. I’m slow at this, aren’t I?”

  “Do you want to go back to him?”

  “No,” I exclaim. “Of course not.”

  “Okay. Just checking, because if you wanted to, I’ll be the last person to judge you for it.”

  “I appreciate that, but I assure you it’s not going to happen.”

  “Damian and I, we had our share of difficulties at the start of our relationship, but working through it was worth every minute.”

  “He’s married.”

  “All right,” she says, “but do let me know if I can play matchmaker. I have very strict criteria and valuable insight into the bachelors working for Damian.”

  I laugh, but my heart isn’t in it. Even now, even with this great distance and a wife and a risky escape and all the bad history between us, Maxime holds me hostage. I’m still his prisoner.

  “You know what?” I say. “I need to live in the present, not in the past.”

  “Does that mean I can go bachelor hunting?”

  “Nothing serious. Just drinks.” Even as I say it, I have the ridiculous notion that I’m betraying Maxime. Guilt settles in the pit of my stomach, making me feel sick. It rises up in my chest and throat, and leaves me strangely unsettled.

  The waiter comes to take our order. We both choose a Waldorf salad with honey-drizzled yogurt and berries for dessert. As he leaves, the back of my neck starts to prick. Turning in my seat, I survey the parking. It’s fuller than earlier when I came in. More people have arrived. All the tables outside are occupied.

  “Is something the matter?” Lina asks.

  Shaking off the weird feeling of being watched, I offer her another half-hearted smile. It’s going to take me a while to stop looking over my shoulder. “Everything’s fine.”

  “I’m going to take Josh to build his pizza before our food arrives. Would you like to come?”

  “I won’t miss it for the world.”

  Getting to my feet, I shoot a last glance at the bushes on the other side of the parking before I follow my sister-in-law to the tables next to the pizza ovens where the kids are rolling out their dough.

  God, I really am paranoid. Perhaps I do need help.

  Maxime isn’t going to find me. I’m being too careful.

  Lina is right. It’s time to move on, or I’ll never be free. At least not truly free.

  “You know what?” I say as we dodge a child racing around the mini track in a plastic jeep. “A date sounds like a good idea.”

  Chapter 5

  Maxime

  Standing in front of my open study window, I take in the view. It’s a beautiful late April day, sunny and clear. There’s a bite in the spring air. I don’t mind it. I like the cold. I like th
e heat, too. I like all the seasons. I like them because of what this house represents. Home.

  It’s what I wanted for Zoe, why I gave her the apartment. I only wanted her to have a place of her own where she could feel safe, happy, and relaxed. Since she ran, I had a lot of time to think. I had a lot of time to figure out where I’d gone wrong. I thought reading her needs and meeting every one of them was enough to trap her in my carefully designed web of psychological warfare. Making her fall for me had seemed like the perfect answer at the time. Like my oversight with the one thing she wants more than anything—love—I didn’t take her sense of right and wrong into consideration. Zoe isn’t the kind of woman who can be swayed with gifts or money. My material weapons are useless. She’s immune to them. Not to my charm, but that specific weapon has backfired on me. Falling in love with me seems to have hurt her more than bringing her happiness. She needs love and honor. She needs everything I don’t stand for.

  No matter. She’s mine forever. I’m bringing her back, if it’s the last thing I do. It’s going to hurt her. Badly. For that, I deserve this punishment I’m bringing upon myself. It’s going to be hell to bear, but I’ll suffer it gladly. It’s only fair. It’s the only way I can stand hurting her—if I hurt more. Sometimes this all-consuming obsession feels like a vicious circle of never-ending pain. I can never regret finding her. I can never regret the feelings she awoke in my dead heart, not even the blinding pain.

  The front door opens and shuts with a bang. Footsteps echo in the foyer and fall louder as they approach the study. I don’t need to turn to know to who the lazy gait belongs. Lazy is nothing but an imitation of confidence, a disguise for a lack of self-assurance. Anyway, I expected him.

  Alexis stops next to me, close enough for our shoulders to brush. From the corner of my eye, I see his smirk. He’s staring at me like an eager child, unable to contain his ugly excitement.