“Very well.” Josef performed a sweeping bow. “Miss Karkoff.”
Waiting until the servant had left the room and pulled the door closed behind him, Dimitri pointed a slender finger toward a small box wrapped with a bow on the inlaid ebony table in front of her.
“I have a gift for you.”
She licked her dry lips. “What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
With stiff reluctance she collected the box and tugged off the silver ribbon. Pulling off the lid, she prepared herself for what lay inside.
Surprise stabbed through her as she caught sight of the flawless diamond that glittered against the black velvet cloth lining the box.
“A stickpin?” she muttered in confusion, then without warning she realized that she had seen the diamond before. “Mon Dieu. This belongs to Sir Charles.”
“Yes. He has no further need of it.”
Leonida jerked up her head to meet the cruel satisfaction that glittered in the depths of his black eyes.
“He is dead?”
“Quite dead.”
A shudder of sheer relief shook her body. “Thank God.”
Dimitri dipped his head. “I thought you would be pleased.”
“I am,” she swiftly agreed, holding out the box as if it contained the plague. “But I want no reminders of the monster.”
The handsome criminal leaned forward and gently closed her fingers around the box.
“Then sell it and donate the money to the orphanage. It seems a fitting end to Sir Charles.”
Beneath the force of his dark gaze, she swallowed her instinctive revulsion. He was right. Sir Charles’s taint was gone from the world and the large diamond was worth a great deal of money. She could purchase a number of supplies for the children.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Dimitri settled back in his chair. “I assure you, it was my greatest pleasure.”
She paused, studying the lean, dangerous face with a curiosity she could no longer keep at bay.
“Why?”
“Sir Charles was a rabid animal who needed to be put down.”
She frowned, not surprised at the description. She already suspected as much. But how would this man even know of Sir Charles?
“He harmed someone you cared for?”
“I care for all those who are not considered worthy of being protected by Alexander Pavlovich and his guards.” A hint of steel edged his voice. “Sir Charles tortured and murdered women for his own perverted pleasure. It could not be tolerated.”
Leonida was wise enough not to protest the man’s disrespect toward his Emperor. It was not, after all, as if she could argue her father’s lack of concern toward the tragedy of the serfs.
Instead, she concentrated on the knowledge that Sir Charles was well and truly dead.
“Did he suffer?”
A feral smile curved his lips. “Very much.”