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“Once again?” I ask, my eyes slit closed like a fox smelling the air. What is this? Why does he wish to get close to my diamond?
“I just want to etch every detail into my memory and ensure we retrieve the right one, not a counterfeit," he explains.
Romola's eyes widened, and I caught her surprise. So, this wasn't something they discussed before. It has become an interesting observation for me. Perhaps the father is the silent leader between them. I make note of that fact as she glances between her father and me, clearly searching for any sign that his request might aggravate me.
I consider his request – he has a valid point. If we cross Cremaschi and incur his wrath, only to find out it was for a fake… After all this effort, to seize a counterfeit would be a devastating blow.
Not only would Fiero become aware of an attempt at theft on the Heart of Italy, but he might also put further security on the original, making it impossible to claim it. "Fine," I concede. "But we don’t have much time. We still need to devise an extraction plan, but I suppose we can do that during the ride over."
I led them through the house with its many impressive rooms. It took generations to build up this wealth. My father, grandfather, and his father before him were hardworking men who knew that it would take great financial resources to find the Heart of Italy. Some of those riches are visible, a necessary public portrayal of our standing in society.
Although keeping this estate in excellent condition requires deep pockets, but not nearly as deep as the decades of searching - hiring detectives, treasure hunters and historians.
The countless bribes that have been paid to housemaids, estate lawyers and security specialists. And then that shadow that follows me every step – what if I fail? What if I cannot reclaim the second half, or worse, someone manages to steal the half I have?
We have walked through the hallway and passed the first security checks. My palms are feeling sweaty – Keep it together, you are close to your goal, you’ll be of no use letting the darkness suck you in now.
When the retinal scan comes up, Romola sighs: “This again?”
I narrow my eyes and look at her: “This is the greatest treasure the world has ever seen. I’ve got eyes everywhere, Romola, watching the diamond in ways you can’t imagine, protecting it…” I lower my voice almost reverently.
Romola locks eyes with me before looking away as though chiding her own foolishness for ever having asked.
Like the day before, I led them through the final security checks, leaving my men behind. The three of us then entered the room where the diamond was kept alone.
The corners of the room are dimly lit, with spotlights illuminating the Heart of Italy, casting a mesmerizing glow that dances across the walls.
"Here," I announce, stopping before the diamond encased in its glass display. Agostino doesn't hesitate as he steps forward, eyes locked onto the diamond's display case. I observe as he watches it, entranced by its oceanic blue. He walks around the glass, examining it from every angle, muttering things to himself.
It’s clear he's eager to commit every detail to memory. Romola, however, hesitates. I notice her wringing her gloved hands, worry evident in her gray eyes.
“What is it?” I inch closer to her.
She startles, as she’d forgotten I was in the room. “Nothing,” she shakes her head.
I grip her arm in mine, and she looks up at me. A perhaps warranted sneer comes on my face, though I can tell she doesn’t like the expression. “Not scared of the task, are you?”
Truthfully, she should be. To steal from Fiero Cremaschi isn’t for the faint-hearted, but I can’t tell her that. I don’t care about the consequences for her as long as the diamond reaches me in the end.
She shakes her head but doesn’t vehemently deny my accusations. Instead of feeding her fear, I decided to let her feel the frenzy of the chase, the high it might bring. I want to make her feel what it’s like to make history.
I inch closer to the glass and reach behind my neck, under the collar, to pull out the one and only key that can remove the final protective barrier. I take it off the chain on my neck and insert it, for it to open.
The glass panel creeks as it swings.
“If anyone tries to break into the case,” I explain, “with any other tools or a counterfeit key, the laser beams come up. It’s instant death - kaboom,” I mimic the sound with my hands and break into a peal of laughter. Romola jumps.
I reach in and touch the half of the Heart of Italy. A cold chill sweeps through my hand, almost like ice. I lift it. Its weight is so firm and solid, and I may as well have been carrying gold.
I pull it out and turn to find Romola’s reluctant gaze upon me and Agostino’s thirsty one.
"Remember, this is our one chance to get this right. Do you want to hold it, Agostino?”
Agostino brings one foot forward, arm outstretched, but Romola quickly grabs his arm, pulling him to her. He turns to look at his daughter, whose eyes are wide with fear.
"Father, we don't need to hold the diamond," she protests, her voice trembling with worry. “Leave it in its pristine form. What if we spoil it – if it accidentally slips and falls?”
“Spoil it?” I laugh. “It’s a diamond, sweetheart. The toughest stone known to man. Heavier, larger than any the world has seen. You would be one of a handful of people ever to hold it. Don’t deny your father that honor.” Tonight, we must go to plan, and if Agostino needs this reassurance, so be it. I hold out my hand, the weight of the diamond causing my wrist to bend slightly.
