A brilliant diamond necklace lay inside.
And I knew diamonds.
As a teen, I worked part-time at a jewelry story during my school years in New York. The owner had a daughter in my ballet company. It had been a risk for them to let a teen work there, but I’d done my best and was able to help my grandmother pay for classes and costumes.
Diamonds came in a variety of sizes, colors, and shapes. Each one possessed intricate combinations of characteristics that made them unique. I knew all about the 4C’s—color, clarity, cut, and carat weight. When those elements were combined, they painted a perfect picture of the diamond’s quality.
And this necklace had ranked high on the list of perfection.
Flawless.
“You should breathe now,” Zoya whispered.
I let out a long breath and stepped closer to the box.
Dangling on a platinum chain that was at least eighteen inches, the diamond pendant exuded classic elegance. It had been some time since I’d helped my old manager appraise jewelry, but I knew the pendant showcased a 1.75 carat diamond. Signature cut. Round and floating. Sunlight hit just right, and the jewel gleamed and glowed.
Zoya eyed my new bodyguard standing by the wall and then lowered her voice. “I don’t know diamonds, but this looks expensive.”
It’s probably around forty thousand. . .at least.
Panic hit me. I swallowed it down.
“Are you okay?” Zoya asked.
“Uh. . .yes.”
What’s wrong with me?
Misha had been nothing, but amazing last night.
This is expensive, but it’s okay to accept it. Right?
The man was gorgeous. And his cock was big, thick, and able to make me moan all night long.
It was just that no one had ever spoiled me this much.
“Ava?” Zoya blinked. “Are you ready to put it on?”
I tried to stop my head from spinning. “Yes.”
An hour later, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly. I loved what I saw.
I would definitely fuck me.
Zoya came over and placed the necklace around my neck. The diamond lay cold against my skin, glittering and shining bright.
I have a fortune on my body.
Part of me was freaked out from wearing it. Had I walked through my old neighborhood with this necklace on, I never would have made it home. A tiny part of me didn’t even want to wear it. So many insecurities rose. Who was I to think I deserved it? What the hell did I think I was doing with such a big rock?
I’d been battling imposter syndrome all my life. Always doubting my accomplishments. Always wondering if the world would see me as a fraud.
Relax. Relax. I deserve it. Right? Yes. I think. Shut up. Wear the necklace and don’t think about it.
But all of me wanted to wear it for Misha.
“Let’s take the picture.” Zoya grabbed a camera and began snapping several. “Mr. Stronz was nice enough to buy me this camera today. He told me to take as many pictures as possible.”
Damn. Did his spoiling have any end?
Zoya took tons photos. When she finished, we viewed them together.
I look beautiful.
I wasn’t used to thinking that. I never thought I was ugly, but I put my energy on being a great dancer, not on my looks. Still, today I felt beautiful in every way.
“Do you like the pictures?” Zoya asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay. I will sync these and then send them.” Zoya sat the camera on the nearest table, picked up her cell phone, and typed.
I bit my lip.
She looked back up at me. “He’s got them. He just replied.”
“That quick?”
“Oh yes.” Zoya placed the phone down and turned her attention to her assistant. “Start cleaning everything up. We’ll keep the gowns here for later.”
“Later?”
“He said that he would need me for this week, and that you had a big dinner this evening, after the ballet. I’m supposed to meet you at the theater.”
“A dinner after the performance?”
“It must be another surprise,” she said.
“I think so.”
Zoya leaned her head my way and whispered, “You look nervous. If it’s about this big spender, I would enjoy it.”
“You’re right. Thank you.”
“Enjoy your big interview too.” Zoya left with her assistant. One of my guards followed her out.
My phone rang.
Breathless, I picked it up. “Hello.”
“I just saw the pictures.” Misha’s deep voice slipped over my skin. “You are going to make me come over there.”
“I would love that.”
“I wish, but I cannot. Your photo shoot is in twenty minutes.”
“Oh, damn it. You’re right.” I rushed off and left the condo.
Two guards hurried behind me.
“No, do not run, Ava. Not in those sexy heels. I have a car waiting for you. Besides, Vogue will wait for you too. I’ll send my men over there to explain.”
“Your men?”
“Personal assistants.”
“Thanks, Misha, but it’ll be fine.” I got to the penthouse’s elevator and pressed the button. “I’ll call—”
“No. It’s already done. They’re heading that way now. And trust me, they will beat you to the shoot.”