‘We’re here, sir.’ His driver’s voice came through the intercom.
Zaccheo watched her dive for the door. He would’ve laughed at her eagerness to get away from the conversation that brought back too many volatile memories, had he not felt disconcerting relief that his question had gone unanswered.
He’d been a fool to pursue it in the first place. He didn’t need more lies. He had cold, hard facts proving the Penningtons’ guilt. Dwelling on the whys and wherefores of Eva’s actions was a fool’s errand.
He stepped out into the winter sunshine and nodded at the bank director.
‘Mr Giordano, welcome.’ The older man’s expression vacillated between obsequiousness and condescension.
‘You received my further instructions?’ Zaccheo took Eva’s arm, ignoring her slight stiffening as he walked her through the doors of the bank.
‘Yes, sir. We’ve adhered to your wishes.’ Again he caught the man’s assessing gaze.
‘I’m pleased to hear it. Otherwise I’m sure there would be other banks who would welcome GWI’s business.’
The banker paled. ‘That won’t be necessary, Mr Giordano. If you’ll come with me, the jewellers have everything laid out for you.’
It should’ve given him great satisfaction that he’d breached the hallowed walls of the centuries-old establishment, that he’d finally succeeded where his own father had tried so hard and failed, giving his life in pursuit of recognition.
But all Zaccheo could hear, could feel, was Eva’s presence, a reminder of why his satisfaction felt hollow. She was proof that, despite all he’d achieved, he was still regarded as the lowest of the low. A nobody. An expendable patsy who would take any treatment his betters doled out without protest.
We shall see.
They walked down several hallways. After a few minutes, Eva cleared her throat. ‘What instructions did you give him?’ she asked.
He stared down at her. ‘I told him to remove all pink diamonds from the collection and instruct my jewellers that I do not wish to deal with diamonds of that colour in the future.’
‘Really? I thought pink diamonds were all the rage these days?’
He shrugged. ‘Not for me. Let’s call it a personal preference.’
The penny dropped and she tried to pull away from his hold. He refused to let go. ‘Are you really that petty?’ she asked as they approached a heavy set of oak doors. ‘Just because Harry gave me a pink diamond...’ Her eyes widened when he caught her shoulders and pinned her against the wall. When she started to struggle, he stepped closer, caging her in with his body.
‘You’ll refrain from mentioning his name in my presence ever again. Is that understood?’ Zaccheo felt his control slipping as her scent tangled with his senses and her curvy figure moved against him.
‘Let me go and you’ll need never hear his name again,’ she snapped back.
‘Not going to happen.’ He released her. ‘After you.’
She huffed a breath and entered the room. He followed and crossed to the window, struggling to get himself under control as the director walked in with three assistants bearing large velvet trays. They set them on the polished conference table and stepped back.
‘We’ll give you some privacy,’ the director said before exiting with his minions.
Zaccheo walked to the first tray and pulled away the protective cloth. He stared at the display of diamonds in all cuts and sizes, wondering for a moment how his father would’ve reacted to this display of obscene wealth. Paolo Giordano had never managed to achieve even a fraction of his goals despite sacrificing everything, including the people he should’ve held dear. Would he have been proud, or would he have bowed and scraped as the bank director had a few moments ago, eager to be deemed worthy of merely touching them?
‘Perhaps we should get on with choosing a stone. Or are we going to stare at them all day?’ Eva asked.
* * *
Eva watched his face harden and bit her tongue. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t stop goading him. Did part of her want to get under his skin as he so effortlessly got under hers?
Annoyed with herself for letting the whole absurd situation get to her, she stepped forward and stared down at the dazzling array of gems. Large. Sparkling. Flawless. Each worth more than she would earn in half her lifetime.
None of them appealed to her.
She didn’t want to pick out another cold stone to replace the one she’d handed back to Harry before running after Zaccheo last night.