Christina's stomach clenched at Maria's words. She wanted to believe her parents had shared something more real, more honest than a tawdry affair.

"So what happened?" J.T. asked. "Did Vittorio inherit the diamond after Isabella died?"

"He took it from her when he found out she was pregnant," Maria said. "He was furious. He was looking through her room for proof of her affair-letters, that kind of thing. That's when he found the stone, when he took it for his own. Vittorio told Isabella that she owed him for betraying him." Maria drew in a deep breath. "It was a horrible night. They fought so terribly. In my head I can still hear him yelling at her, and my sweet Isabella sobbing as if her heart had been ripped in two. In the end Vittorio sent her away to live in the country until she had the baby. Then he had a nurse take the child to America, to your father."

Christina felt a rush of emotion, knowing now that she was that baby. "Isabella didn't choose to send me away?"

"Oh, no. She cried for days after you were gone. She only got to hold you the one time. She wanted to fight for you, but she was too weak. It was a difficult pregnancy. She had no strength left to battle Vittorio."

"I don't understand why my father took me in without trying to come back here and get Isabella, too," Christina said. "Didn't he wonder why she'd sent him her baby?"

"There was a letter that went with you. Isabella was forced to write it, denouncing anything she had ever felt for your father and asking him never to tell you the truth of your birth. She said that she was ashamed of herself for betraying her husband and her other children. I don't know how your father felt about the letter, but by the time he came here to see her, it was too late."

"What happened to her?" Christina asked, needing to know the rest. "How did she die?"

"Isabella never recovered from the pregnancy," Maria said, her old eyes sad as she gazed at Christina. "She never recovered from losing you. She got weaker and weaker. Influenza struck. She couldn't fight it. Not even for her boys. She loved her boys, too. But Vittorio wouldn't let her see them. He kept them here in the city and made her stay in the country. He said he didn't want them to get sick. Without her children she had no heart left. She had been banished from her life. She was so alone, so filled with grief. I think she just gave up." Maria paused, her lips trembling as she said, "Vittorio buried her eight months after you were born."

Christina blinked back a sudden well of tears and drew in a shaky breath. "So if my father hadn't waited so long to see Isabella, he might have saved her life."

"I don't know if anyone could have saved her," Maria said. "I know I tried. I told her over and over again that she had to get well so that she could see you again, see her boys. She would perk up for a while, but then lose faith. She had always been a fragile girl, weak, thin, kind, soft like a little hummingbird. That's how I think of Isabella. She was always happy here in her garden, rarely anywhere else, except perhaps the library, where she met your father."

"If she hadn't inherited the diamond, they never would have met," Christina murmured. "It brought her the wrong kind of love."

"It was wrong because she was married," Maria said. "But Isabella was happy that summer. Perhaps that was all she was meant to have."

"And what about Vittorio?" J.T. asked. "What curse has he suffered since he took the diamond?"

"Many tragedies. Some years ago he was injured in a riding accident, and it was many months before he could walk. He still suffers a limp. Later he lost a great deal of money and his business holdings suffered. Six months ago his son Frances was killed in a car accident. Four months ago Vittorio was diagnosed with cancer."

"All things that could have just happened," J.T. said pragmatically, "curse or no curse."

"Vittorio said the same thing, but in his heart he started to wonder and to believe that his only chance of beating the cancer was to get rid of the diamond. I told Vittorio he should give you the diamond before it killed him."

"You told him to give it to me?" Christina echoed.

"You are Isabella's daughter. It was the right thing to do."

"But you know that he didn't give it to me. He simply sent it to my auction house and asked me to wear it. Apparently he thought that alone would relieve the curse."

Maria nodded. "I didn't understand his intention until after he had sent the entire collection to San Francisco."

"He didn't want me to have the diamond," Christina said. "He just wanted me to save him from the curse and then sell the stone for him. He ends up curse-free with millions of dollars in his pocket. Sounds like quite the plan," she said bitterly, feeling a surge of anger toward the man who had quite possibly changed the entire course of her life. "I want to see him. I want to speak to Vittorio."

Maria immediately shook her head, fear flashing through her eyes. "No, you can't. He's ill. I can't allow you to upset him. He would be so angry that I told you. I am an old woman. I can't find another job, another place to live. My daughter works here, too. I only told you the story because I loved your mother so much, and I know she would have wanted you to understand the truth of your birth. She would have wanted me to tell you about her."

Christina could see the difficult position Maria was in, but still..."Maria. Vittorio practically killed my mother, and he kept me from her. I was her child. I had a right to be with her, to know her. He played God. No one has the right to do that."

"Your father did the same thing," she argued.

"Well, I want to talk to him, too." Christina glanced over at J.T. "What do you think?"

"That you should speak to Vittorio," he said, meeting her gaze. "But don't implicate Maria. Your father could have told you all of this. Vittorio doesn't need to know where your information came from."

"Yes, my father could have told me," she realized. Why hadn't he? Why all the secrecy? Was it really a matter of his respecting her mother's wishes? Why wouldn't he have questioned the letter? Surely, if he knew Isabella was unhappy enough to have an affair, he would have suspected the note had been written under duress?

"Vittorio cannot tell you any more about the diamond," Maria argued. "I have told you everything."

"I need to see him." Christina thought about what she'd just said and realized it wasn't completely true. "Actually, I need him to see me-the child he made his wife give away."

Maria met her gaze, and there was compassion in her eyes. "I understand."

"What about my...my half brothers?" Christina asked. "I know Stefano is sailing somewhere. What about Daniel?"

"He went to Rome several days ago. He won't be back until next week."

"Do they know about me?" Christina asked. "Will I be destroying their vision of their mother if I show up?"

"Probably. They don't know about you or about their mother's relationship with your father. The boys grew up to be like their father-cold, distant. They could have used their mother's touch."

"Well, since they're not here, I'll think about what I want to tell them later." She rose to her feet. "I want to see Vittorio now."

"Do you want me to come with you?" J.T. asked.

"I really do," she admitted. "I know it would probably be better for me to do it alone, but I could use your support. I don't think he'll be happy to see me."

J.T. got up and gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll be right by your side. If you want me to kick his ass, just say the word."

"Thanks, but I just want to talk to him right now. I'll save the ass kicking for later." She turned to Maria. "Thank you-for everything. I know you took a risk. I appreciate it so much."

The older woman nodded as she stood up. "I will take you to see Vittorio."

Christina's nerves tightened as they walked upstairs. She wanted to see Vittorio, and yet she was afraid. After hearing what he had done to her mother, Vittorio had grown to monstrous proportions in her mind. What would she say to him? Would she able to say anything at all? Or would he intimidate her as he had intimidated her mother?

She was still uncertain when J.T. paused in the hall outside Vittorio's room.

"Let me make this easier on you, Maria," he said. "Try to stop me from going in. You understand?"

"Yes."

J.T. pushed open the door to Vittorio's bedroom, saying, "Don't try to stop me. I want to see him now."

"Please, signore, you cannot go in there," Maria begged.

Christina followed J.T. into the large bedroom. Vittorio sat in an armchair, reading a newspaper. The paper fell from his hand when he saw her. His gaze narrowed and his thick brows drew together in one tight line. The blood drained from his face as recognition set in.

"I think it's time we met," Christina said, finding her voice and her courage. She walked over to him, stopping just a few feet from his chair. It helped that he was sitting. She felt bigger, stronger. "I'm Christina Alberti-your wife's daughter. Remember me?"

Vittorio didn't reply. He simply stared at her, his gaze as cold as ice. He shifted in his chair, reached for a cane resting against the table, and slowly rose. Standing, he towered above her by a good foot, and despite the fact that his illness had robbed him of his vigor, he was still a man who commanded respect simply by the way he held his head. He looked at her for so long she found herself willing him to say something-anything. The silence was killing her.

"What do you want?" he asked finally.

She had to think for a moment. What did she want from this man?

"Why did you do it?" she asked. "Why did you rip me out of the arms of my mother and send me away?"

"Because you weren't mine." His gaze was direct, his words unapologetic. "You were a bastard child, the symbol of her betrayal."

His words cut her to the quick, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain. "You killed her, didn't you? You destroyed her with your cold, heartless act."

"She destroyed me and my family," he said, fury steeling his voice. "She was the sinner, not I. Now leave my house."

"In a second. I'm not finished yet. You sent me the diamond to curse me, didn't you? It wasn't that you thought I could get rid of the curse. You wanted to brand me with it."

"It did not matter to me either way," he said with a shrug. "Until your father stole it. If it takes my last breath, I will make sure he is thrown into jail. He robbed me of Isabella. He will not run away with that diamond. Now that I know he has it, I will send every police officer in Florence to search for him."

Goose bumps shivered over Christina's skin. Vittorio was a powerful man in Florence. He could probably back up his threat. But she still had one card left to play. "If you do that, I will tell everyone the truth about you, my mother, my father, and myself."

"I could have you thrown into jail as well," Vittorio countered. "The police in San Francisco believe you and your father worked together. I had a long talk with them this morning." He glanced over at J.T. "I believe you're wanted as well."

"J.T. didn't have anything to do with the theft of the diamond," Christina said quickly. "And neither did I. But if you want to have me arrested, fine. I can still tell my story, and I will tell it. In fact, if I'm in jail, I'll get even more press. By the time I'm finished, everyone in Florence will know the true story of my mother and my father and you. Or..." She paused deliberately, giving her threat a chance to sink in. "Or my father can return the diamond and you can drop the charges."

"You dare to blackmail me?" he asked incredulously. "Do you know who I am?"

"I know exactly who you are and what you have to protect."

He stared back at her, measuring the sincerity of her words. She didn't flinch, didn't look away. Her mother might not have been able to stand up to Vittorio, but Christina could, and she would.

"You have two days to get me the diamond," Vittorio said slowly.

She turned and left the room without replying, but she was shaking when she reached the hallway. She let out a breath of relief as J.T. pulled the door shut behind him.

He smiled at her. "You all right?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know where that all came from. I just couldn't stand there and let him threaten me and my father."

"I think you did your mother proud."

"Yeah, well, there's only one small problem. We have to get the diamond back in the next two days."

"Then that's what we'll do," he said confidently.

"Yes," she agreed, "because my father has a lot to answer for as well. I want to ask him the same questions I asked Vittorio. Neither of them had a right to keep me from my mother."

"No, they didn't. But I have to admit I can't see you growing up in this cold, dark house," J.T. said as they made their way down the stairs. "It doesn't suit you."

"I don't think it suited my mother either. She didn't belong here."

"She came willingly," J.T. reminded her.

"It sounded like her parents didn't give her much choice. But I know what you're getting at. She was married. She did have an affair. She wasn't honorable. Apparently she was in love. Maybe the diamond is cursed."

"Well, curse or not, we still need to find it in the next two days."

"I think we should check the house where my father stays when he's here in Florence. Maria can give us the address. Maybe he'll even be there. Although that would probably be too easy."

"Definitely too easy. But let's make that our next stop. If the house is in your family name, it would be a good place for Evan to target as well."

At the mention of Evan, she glanced at J.T. and saw new shadows of worry in his eyes. "It bothers you a little that he hasn't shown his face again, doesn't it?"

"Yes. I've gotten used to his frequent taunts. The silence is unnerving."

"No news is supposed to be good news, isn't it?"

"Not where Evan is concerned."

"We'll find him. Or he'll find us."

"Yeah, that's what I'm concerned about," J.T. said grimly. "You're very distracted, Christina. You need to keep your mind now on your father and Evan. The stuff with your mother you'll have to sort out later. I know that's a lot to ask, but it's important."

"I know. I understand. Believe me, there is nothing I want more than to find both Evan and my father and put all this behind us."

18.

Evan watched the jeweler study the diamond under his gem scope. Giorgio was the best in the business, according to the Florence underground network of thieves. Italy might not be the States, but Evan knew how to work the underground in any country. The right amount of money, the appropriate threat, and any information could be had.

"Well?" he prodded impatiently.

"It is a brilliant copy," the man said slowly. He lifted his shrewd gaze to meet Evan's. "Perfection, but still a copy. You already knew that."

"Yes. And you're the man who made it."

Georgio shrugged his shoulders, but he looked at the stone as if he'd given birth to it. The pride of ownership was clearly evident in his eyes. "I am just a simple jeweler. This would require the work of an artist, a master of his craft."

"I don't need the artist," Evan said. "I need the man who hired him. Marcus Alberti. I'm betting you can help me find him."

"That information could be costly," Georgio replied.

"Not sharing it could be even costlier," Evan returned. "The real diamond is missing. A lot of people are looking for it. Some of them will eventually end up here. Some of those people will have badges, arrest warrants."

"It is not a crime to copy a jewel," the man returned.

Evan took out his wallet and laid several bills on the counter. The man's eyes lit up. Greed was such a beautiful thing.