Chapter 1 The Bride in the Vault
# Chapter 1: The Bride in the Vault
I should have known that red diamonds were trouble.
In fifteen years as a gemologist, I'd handled stones that made billionaires weep, but this one—the Crimson Tear—made my skin crawl the moment the auction house director placed it in my gloved hands.
"Janice, we need your authentication by tomorrow," Director Pearson said, hovering nearby like a nervous parent. "The reserve price is eight million. The seller insists on anonymity."
I nodded, already lost in the diamond's depths. Just over five carats, cushion-cut, with a color so deeply red it seemed to pulse in the light. Natural red diamonds were the rarest of the rare—fewer than thirty known specimens in the world—but something about this one felt... wrong.
"I'll need to run some tests," I said, not looking up. "There's something unusual about the color distribution."
"Whatever you need. Use the secure lab. I've cleared your schedule."
The secure lab was my sanctuary—a windowless room with equipment worth more than my apartment building. I spent hours with the stone, running every test I knew. The diamond was real, certainly, but unlike any I'd ever seen. The red coloration was caused by a crystal lattice deformation, but it was too uniform, too perfect.
It was nearly midnight when I finally leaned back from the microscope, rubbing my eyes. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. The diamond sat on the examination pad, catching the light of my desk lamp, and for a moment, I swore it glowed like an ember.
That's when the lights went out.
I reached for my phone, but before I could grab it, a cloth clamped over my mouth. The chemical smell hit me first, then the dizziness. I fought, but it was useless. As consciousness slipped away, I saw a gloved hand reach for the diamond.
I woke to the gentle rocking of motion. A car. Expensive, from the smooth ride and the scent of leather. My hands were bound in front of me, and a blindfold covered my eyes.
"She's awake," a man's voice said. Deep, cultured, with the faintest accent I couldn't place.
"Should I sedate her again?" Another voice, rougher.
"No. We're almost there."
I kept still, trying to control my breathing. Panic wouldn't help me. I needed information.
"Who are you?" I managed, my voice hoarse. "What do you want?"
A low chuckle. "All in good time, Ms. Harlow."
He knew my name. That wasn't good.
The car stopped eventually. I was guided—or rather, dragged—from the vehicle. Cold night air hit my face, followed by the musty scent of an old building. We descended in what felt like an elevator, the air growing cooler, the sounds more muffled.
When they removed my blindfold, I blinked against harsh overhead lights. We were in what looked like a bank vault—steel walls, no windows, a massive door sealed behind us. The room had been converted into some kind of living space, with a bed, bathroom facilities, and even a small sitting area. A gilded cage.
"Welcome to your new home," said the man standing before me. "Temporary, I assure you."
He was tall, maybe six-two, with dark hair swept back from a face that belonged on a Renaissance painting—all sharp angles and perfect proportions. But his eyes... they were pale blue, almost colorless, and utterly devoid of warmth.
"I'm Eden," he said, as if we were meeting at a cocktail party. "And you're Janice Harlow, one of the world's foremost experts on colored diamonds."
I tried to stand taller despite my bound hands. "If this is about the Crimson Tear, you've made a mistake. I haven't authenticated it yet."
"Oh, but you will." Eden smiled, and it transformed his face into something almost beautiful, if you could ignore the predatory intent behind it. "And you'll find it quite authentic."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the diamond. Even in the vault's harsh lighting, it seemed to capture and intensify the light, throwing crimson reflections across the steel walls.
"Do you know why red diamonds get their color, Ms. Harlow?"
Despite everything, the professional in me couldn't resist. "Plastic deformation of the crystal lattice. Stress changes how carbon atoms are arranged."
"Precisely. Stress. Pressure. Violence done to something pure." He stepped closer, the diamond catching the light between his fingers. "This particular stone, however, has a more... intimate origin story."
Before I could react, he was behind me. I felt the cool touch of metal against my throat, and then the weight of the diamond as he fastened a necklace around my neck. The stone rested just below the hollow of my throat, unnaturally warm against my skin.
"Do you like it?" Eden whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "It was my mother's inheritance."
I looked down at the diamond, now suspended from a delicate platinum chain. Under the lights, the red seemed to deepen, to move within the stone like something alive. The color reminded me of something visceral, primal.
Blood. It looked exactly like frozen blood.
"What do you want from me?" I asked, hating the tremor in my voice.
Eden moved back around to face me, studying me with a clinical detachment that was somehow worse than any obvious threat.
"I want what everyone wants, Ms. Harlow. Justice. Vengeance." His smile returned, cold and perfect. "And you're going to help me get it."
"I won't help you do anything," I said, pulling at my restraints.
"You already are." Eden nodded toward a camera in the corner of the room. "Even now, my brother is seeing the diamond he thought was safely hidden away, hanging around your lovely neck. The diamond he killed for."
He touched the stone gently, almost reverently. "My mother always said it would return to the family someday. That the blood would find its way home."
I stared at him, a chill running down my spine that had nothing to do with the vault's temperature. "You're insane."
"No, Ms. Harlow. I'm patient. There's a difference." He stepped back, heading toward the vault door. "Rest. Tomorrow, your real work begins."
"Wait!" I called. "You can't just leave me here!"
Eden paused, hand on the massive door. "Can't I? Don't worry. You won't be alone for long. We have so much to accomplish together."
The door swung shut behind him with a sound of finality, leaving me alone with the diamond at my throat—a diamond that, in the dimmed lights of the vault, seemed to pulse with its own inner light.
Like a heartbeat.
Like a warning.
