CHAPTER 37

"I'M sure you can get something suitable yourself. Just take two of MY men with you so you'll be safe. I'VE told them that you'll be visiting a jewelry store later."

A wave of shock washes over ME. "This is one of the most memorable moments of our engagement, and you want ME to do it all by myself?"

HE stares at ME strangely. "Yeah." HE slides HIS black Amex across the counter to ME.

I glaze at it but hesitate before picking it up. "Um, what's the catch, VINCENT?"

"What do you mean?"

Have you had your Amex reported stolen? You know, so if I try to use it, it'll set off an alarm and I'll be arrested?\

"And why would I do that?" HE answers in HIS infuriating drawl.

"Let ME see, because you like to trick ME and lie at times?" I have no idea why, but I'M a little offended that HE doesn't want to choose the ring with ME.

HE gives ME puppy dog eyes. Faux, of course, since I know HE'S far more rough around the edges than that.

"And because you're still angry with me for leaving and you had to look for ME…" Because it was pretty clear on the way home just how angry HE was with ME.

HE gives ME the glare. "You'll be needing the pin. It's six, six, six, six."

"Yeah, sure it is," I mutter as there is a knocking on the doors to the suite.

ISAAC responds and lets in a man. "KYOLINE, this gentleman is from MY bank. HE requires your fingerprint as an added security for the Amex." MY eyebrows raise. Wow, rich people really do live quite differently. While HE seems to be a lowkey person, I know from PELLA and NIKKI that HE'S a billionaire which is not quite surprising given how successful and dominant the KASH MANCHESTER are within the criminal world. I place MY index finger on the handheld electronic device which the man offers to ME. "Thank you, ma'am.". There may be some transactions that will request you to authorize by fingerprint, but if there are any questions, please simply call the number on the back of the credit card.

It will take you directly to our department that deals with our most valued customers, and they will provide you with an individual service to address any question or problem you may have.

ISAAC glances out, offers in MY two guards of the day, and then picks up HIS coat and phone. "I'M leaving now."

"Wait!" I exclaim swiftly as HE opens the door.

HE turns slowly to face ME.

I wet MY lips. "Is it unlimited?"

HE deepens his breathing. "Yes. It won't get rejected when you spend 100K on a ring down the line. Happy?"

I nod and watch HIM walk off. I remain seated on the couch, staring at the now-vacant coffee cup in front of ME. I have no idea why I'M so irritable, but for some reason I expected that we'd go pick out the ring together. And why, I ask you, does this fake engagement thing remind ME of how TENZ JER'SEY humiliated ME, letting the entire world know that I wasn't good enough to be wedded. That I'M not deserving of love. That I'M irrelevant. And even though I don't know ISAAC that well, the word 'phony' keeps echoing in MY mind. Because even if something did happen between ISAAC and ME, some guy like HIM would never in a thousand years desire ME as a real-life fiancée, right? I shake MY head. What in the world am I even thinking?

It's not like there's anything other than sex between us, right?

Picking up MY phone, I browse the net and read through a list of local jewelry shops, trying to psych myself up. And taking a deep breath, I choose a shop said to specialize in fancy engagement rings, and then I go about getting dressed up. The jingle of the jewelry store door's bell rings out as I push open the door, the bodyguards tagging along after ME but at a decent distance. The scent of varnished wood and faint perfume fills the air, mixing with the hum of voices. Twinkling exhibits border the walls, and every one of them is an ocean of radiance.

MY eyes scan the room, absorbing the collection of gold, silver, and platinum jewelry bedecked with precious stones which sparkle under the muted lights.

The store is bustling. I look around at the couples picking out rings together, lovingly staring into one another's eyes. And I realize that I'M the only person in this store without MY man.without a man who loves ME.

I walk over to the counter.

"How can I assist you today?" a woman behind the glass case inquires, her tone sleek and polished.

"Something special," I reply, gazing down at rings resting on soft velvety velvet. "An engagement ring." I point to a tray. "I'D like to see those."

Her eyes glint with a professional gloss. "Of course." She reaches into the case and comes up with a tray of diamond rings, each one lovelier than the previous. I sort through them, feeling a small thrill welling up inside ME.

As I glance over the options, the assistant selects one from the tray after she catches ME eyeing it up. "This is a very elegant ring. It's a princess-cut. Very high-end."

"It is gorgeous," I say slowly.

"Here, try it on," she invites ME.

Sliding it onto MY ring finger, I'M immediately captivated by its beautiful design and how it catches the light. "How much is it?" I inquire, already bracing ME for the answer.

"It's two hundred thousand dollars," she tells ME. And the excitement in ME instantly runs out because HE did mention something about ME putting up 100K, so HE must've had a budget in mind.

I browse the rest of the rings on the tray and choose another one to try on. She takes it out of its soft cushion and hands it to ME.

It is beautiful and fits well. "And the price?" I ask hesitantly.

"One million dollars."

Oh my goodness, this isn't doing very well at all. I continue Browse the rest of the rings on the second tray, though not really being attracted to any of them, I shift attention to a second tray to see. The moment it is put in front of ME, one ring catches MY eye. It's a masterpiece. Three large perfect diamonds in a complicated setting on a platinum band. The three diamonds sparkle in a way that creates a hypnotic spectrum of color, each facet radiating with unparalleled brilliance. "That one," I point out to her. The assistant smiles as she grasps it tenderly from the tray and places it in MY hands. I fasten it around my finger, and it fits like it were custom-made for ME.

I hold MY hand up to the light, slowly turning it, appreciating the way it sparkles.

"This is a lovely piece," she tells me. "The center diamonds are exceptional, and the band is crafted of the finest platinum with additional diamonds along it."

"How much?" I ask.

"Two point five million dollars," she replies, her tone deferential and factual. "It's the weight of the diamonds but also their quality," she apologizes almost in advance. "Excellent cut, flawless clarity, and colorless means that these diamonds are as close to perfection as anyone will ever get."

"Two point five million dollars?" Holy crap. I glance around MYSELF, and MY heart drops. Would ISAAC have minded going with ME today instead of work? If HE went with ME, maybe I would not have felt so much a loser in front of all these love-stricken couples surrounding ME… "Yes, two point five million," the assistant confirms.

The amount remains suspended in the air for a split moment, as if in a dream.

And MY face breaks out in a plan.

This ring is more than a decade the cost of the first ring I went to try on—meaning that it's perfectly, totally, and completely wonderful.

"I'LL take it," I exclaim with glee, pushing ISAAC'S black Amex over to her.

Her eyes positively flash with dollar signs as she mentally calculates her commission on the piece, and she takes ME to a back room to complete the sale. I have to whip out that fingerprint authorization doohickey, and I guess it must be for high-value transactions. The sale goes smoothly and easily, and the ring is mine. "Congratulations," she says with warmth. "This is a really incredible piece.".

"Thanks." And after I've escaped the jeweler's shop, there is a little bit more shopping to do, and I almost skip along the sidewalk as I head for the next store on MY list. When I get back to the hotel, ISAAC is sitting at the small desk, typing away at HIS laptop.

The two bodyguards stand respectfully behind me as I flash MY hand before HIM. "I got MY ring. Do you like it?"

HIS eyes open a little further as HE gazes at the huge diamonds.

"It's.nice. Er, how much did it cost precisely?"

"Two point five million," I say.

"Two point five?" HE says slowly.

"Yeah."

"Million?"

"Yep."

"Dollars?" HE continues in a croaky tone.

"Uh-huh."

"Carried on a ring?"

"Oh, all right, maybe some might call it a ring. But to me, rock is a more suitable name."

"Jesus shitdamn and all the goddamn ISAACS!"

I arch an eyebrow at HIM, carefully manicured and pointed. "I'M positive that's blasphemy on at least a few levels. You might want to go to confession this Sunday, you know."

"Is that why I sent you off alone to procure the ring?" HE asks slowly.

"No," I snap.

And as I see what I'VE just done, HIS jaw drops open like a rollercoaster suddenly diving at breakneck velocity. "That much money would buy ME a fucking mansion."

I wave with an airy dismissive hand. "You already have one of those, recall?"

A vein throbs on HIS forehead. "A mansion. With a backyard the size of a freaking football field."

I give a nonchalant shrug. "I mean, if you're into football…"

HIS eyes narrow into thin slits. "A mansion. With a yard the same size as a football field. And bathrooms that have swan-shaped fucking faucets that pour with pure liquid gold when you flip them on!" I tilt MY head to the side as I regard HIM. "Now you're just being goddamn tacky," I drag out.

HE takes MY hand and leads ME away from the bodyguards and into the bedroom. HE slams the door and spins around to regard ME. "What in the world were you thinking, KYOLINE?"

I put MY hand on MY hip. "You're the one who demanded that our engagement must be realistic and word must spread fast. And no one would assume I'D marry a man who wasn't super generous with HIS money—not with the way everyone likes to refer to ME as a gold digger. I thought you'd be excited that I came up with a solution to make the ring lie more convincing."

HIS lips drop open before HE buries HIS face in HIS hands. "Christ, I don't know whether I should be annoyed at the ridiculous amount of money you wasted…or totally amazed at your plan," HE growls with a groan.

"Anyway, on the plus side, word should get out fast now," I grin. "I mean, your men are going to gossip about the two-point-five-million-dollar ring and your over-the-top reaction to it because you know how everybody in the KASH MANCHESTER loves to gossip about things." I scowl as I twirl the ring around MY finger. Having already escaped from the jewelry store, I went into another store and made the bodyguards wait outside. This store does the best costume jewelry, so I purchased a cheap lab-made diamond ring. Then, wearing that ON MY finger, I went into another jewelry store and sold the original ring. They actually paid ME twenty grand more than what I purchased it for. And I got them to write the check out to MY charity—one that donates to single mothers and their kids.