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“Another safe room?”
“See for yourself,” he replied, gesturing her to step forward.
“But it’s dark.”
“Trust me.”
She walked through the opening… then caught her breath.
As light suddenly flooded a large room, she stood staring in astonishment at a vast array of paintings covering the walls, and alcoves boasting shelves of bronzes and statuettes. In the center a conversation pit offered two wing-backed chairs, a leather couch, and a marble coffee table.
“Marco, what is this place?” she asked, gazing around and recognizing many of the pieces from the house.
“You’re looking at my collection, the real one. Even if Oleg had been successful he would have walked away with nothing but forgeries. These pieces are precious. Some are—let’s just say—not for public display.”
“Who else knows about it?”
“Just your father. Some of the pieces belong to him,” he replied, then lowering his voice and taking her hand, he added, “and now you.”
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a burgundy ring box and lifted the lid.
“I want you to be my wife, and Steph, I also want you involved in every part of my world, including the business.”
Her heart racing so fast and hard she thought it might explode, she stared down at the glistening red stone surrounded by smaller, sparking diamonds.
“Marco, it’s gorgeous.”
“It’s a red diamond,” he said softly, taking it from the box and slipping it on her finger. “They’re extremely rare.”
Staring down at the stunning stone, and suddenly swept up by a swell of emotion, she threw her arms around his neck.
“I love you so much, Marco.”
“I love you too, baby.”
As he gripped her hair and fervently laid his lips on hers, she felt his power, his passion, and the depth of his devotion. When he finally pulled back, she melted against him, breathless and weak-kneed, and let her happy tears flow freely down her face.
* * *
His eyes closed, and swallowing back the heavy emotion, Marco held her in his arms for endless minutes before gently stepping back.
“There’s something I need to show you,” he said solemnly.
“That sounded ominous.”
“It’s not, but it’s important.”
Taking her hand, he led her across the room to a massive Victorian portrait hanging on the back wall. Sliding his fingers behind the frame, he swung it away to reveal the front of an old-fashioned, heavy metal safe. Spinning the dial, then turning the wheel, he pulled open the heavy door to reveal a row of shelves holding a variety of boxes.
“One day soon, I’ll show you what’s in here,” he murmured, opening an ornate casket and lifting out a leather pouch. “Cup your hands.”
As she did as he asked, he opened the pouch, then turned it upside down. Several small rocks with hues of red, purple, and brown fell into her palms.
“These are your safety net,” he declared, touching them with his fingertips. “They’re rough red diamonds, and they’re worth a great deal of money. The stone in your ring came from this group. If you ever have to get out in a hurry, come down here and take them. There’s also a roll of bills in the pouch. You’ll have instant cash, but more important, a business card. Deliver the diamonds to that man. He’ll hand you a briefcase full of money, and arrange transportation somewhere safe. Steph, this will probably never happen, but it’s important to be prepared. Growing up a Grassi, you know anything can happen no matter how careful we are.”
“Marco—”
“I’m not finished,” he said softly, touching his finger to her lips.
