I'd explained to Astor over and over again how much the jewel was worth. That it was better to keep it protected, away from watchful eyes, until the rumors about it being in Venice stopped being whispered from ear to ear. I didn't want trouble for myself or my business, so the thing needed to stay under wraps for the time being.

The diamond was enclosed in an impenetrable safe, and I had to listen to Astor whining about it incessantly.

"Why does it have to be locked up?" she demanded to know. "It's such a beautiful stone. Doesn't it deserve more attention? Doesn't it deserve to see the light, not be stored in some stupid safe?"

I laughed at her, shaking my head. Sometimes it was easy to forget about the age difference between us, but after all, she was only twenty years old. Only a few years older than Ginger when I'd first met her.

I shook my head to get the thought out. It never helped to think about Ginger, especially with other women around. It only made me realize they could never compare to her.

For the longest time after she left me, I stayed celibate. It was six years before I'd slept with someone else. Only when Astor came around did I cave, perhaps because something about the pretty black-haired vixen reminded me of the one that got away.

But even now, as I held her in my embrace night after night, I wondered whether this thing with Astor would ever last. I didn't see it going on for much longer. I just hoped she'd understand when our flame went out; our spark was struggling already, though she stubbornly chose to deny it.

I woke up bright and early that morning, Astor's slow breathing signaling she was still asleep. She slept like the dead, not tossing and turning, but lost in a dreamless land of her mind. 

Staring at her naked body, I couldn't deny her beauty. She was slender, with perky tits and a tight little ass I'd had my fun using. As I looked at her, I realized just how much she really reminded me of Ginger. She could have been her doppelganger if it weren't for the dark hair. I knew I must've picked her subconsciously, and I felt bad for stringing her along for so long. I swore to myself I'd break things off soon; it wasn't fair to her to keep her on the hook like this.

While Astor slept, I made my way into my office. There, I found the safe behind a Degas on the wall, typed in the code and scanned my card, waiting for the safe to open.

A single velvet pouch awaited me inside and I took it out, not even putting on the white gloves the men who'd sold me the diamond wore the other day.

This was becoming a habit of mine, and it was strange because I didn't tend to get attached to the jewels or artwork we sold. But the Cursed Beauty was something else, and ever since the men had warned about its alleged curse, I couldn't get the thought out of my head.

I don't believe in curses, I reminded myself sharply. But the thought lingered anyway, making me recall the words they'd said over and over again, mulling over them in my head and wondering whether there was any truth to their claims.

They said two of their brothers had died because of the stone. 

As I turned it over in my hands, I wondered how anyone could attribute so much power to a simple carbon form. It was nothing but stone—albeit a very valuable one. But it wasn't cursed. I didn't believe in such nonsense.

Yet at the same time, it almost felt as if I'd been cursed my entire life.

After everything I'd been through, everyone I'd lost, I wore the memories of the blows life had dealt me. My gray hair and beard, the worry lines etched into my face. I wasn't the young, arrogant and careless young man I used to be. The world had chewed me up and spat me back out, and I had the scars to show for it. 

Somehow though, I'd walked away stronger than I had been at the beginning, and I was proud of myself for it.

I let the stone slip between my fingers and back into the velvet pouch. With a sigh, I closed the safe.

"What are you doing?"

I turned in the direction of the voice. Astor stood by the wall, wearing the crisp shirt I'd discarded the night before. It was too big for her, but short enough to expose her tanned, long legs.

"Just looking at the stone," I replied. "Making sure it's still here."

"Where else could it go?" she asked with the faint hint of a smile.

She walked closer to me, and I stiffened when her dainty fingers wrapped around my forearm. She had her charms, and she knew how to use them, but I didn't want to fall for her games again. I always had a feeling Astor had an ulterior motive with every little thing she did. It was just a question of time before the truth came out.

I knew she was hiding something.

It was in the sly smile permanently etched onto her features, in the way she averted her gaze when I asked about her past. At first, it had been an intriguing mystery, one that had filled me with longing for the raven-haired girl. Now it was just a little bit annoying, because I still hadn't gotten to the bottom of the mystery. I wanted to know all her secrets.

"Why are you so fascinated by it, anyway?" I asked her, closing the safe and locking it with the combination, then my key card like usual. 

Astor's eyes closely followed every movement I made, but she appeared nonchalant as she sat in my office chair, putting her slender legs on my desk and grinning wide at me.

"Why are you?" she fired back.

"It's worth millions," I stated the obvious. "It's intriguing. You didn't think the men's story was interesting?"

"The curse?" she asked, and I nodded, walking over to the bar in the room, pouring myself a glass of Scotch, neat. 

"They seemed to believe in it," I reminded her. "They said two of their brothers had died because of the diamond."

"Did you believe them? I thought you were too rational to believe in a silly thing like curses, Ryker."

It was a rare opportunity that she spoke my name, and I didn't like hearing it from her lips.

I was a different man here in Venice. Everyone called me The Emperor. I didn't like hearing my real name, especially from Astor. It was such a fucking painful reminder that I had the wrong woman by my side.

"I didn't believe them, no," I replied firmly, and she smirked at my response as if she'd expected it all along. "But I know they believed it. And for them, it must have held some significance. Otherwise, they wouldn't have let go of the stone with no money crossing hands."

"They seemed pretty intent on getting rid of it," she agreed before pulling open a desk drawer and taking out a deck of cards. "Shall we?"

I didn't like her familiarity when she was dealing with my things. Whatever this was between us was definitely nearing its—potentially explosive—ending.

"You want to do that now?" I asked her with raised eyebrows. 

She shrugged, smiling wickedly as she said, "I bet you have a question to ask."

I sat in front of her, our positions reversed as she was in my seat. She shuffled the cards, and we went through the process of placing them on the table with the backs turned up. Astor kept looking into my eyes with that sly grin until I finally prompted her to read the cards for me.

She was big into tarot, claiming her love for it came from her family, which she never mentioned otherwise. I never could manage to get more details out of her.

Now, as she glanced down at the cards lying on the table, she paled for a split second, then smiled to herself.

"What?" I asked, a hint of worry etched in my voice and in the lines on my face. "Something bad?"

"No." She shook her head, but I could tell she was lying.

It was in the shakiness of her voice, the slight tremble of her fingers as she picked up the cards, shuffling them again.

"I must have mixed them wrong," she said, muttering more to herself than to me. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Why? It seemed all right to me."

She set the cards down and looked into my eyes, her bottom lip trembling lightly.

"It said you would end a relationship very soon," she said shakily. "The Ten of Swords."

A long pause followed, loaded with questions I didn't want to answer just yet.

If I was being honest with myself, I was going to miss Astor. She was a special kind of crazy that suited me just fine, and her interest in everything occult proved to be amusing for a long time. But I knew the cards hadn't lied. I'd thought about breaking things off with her increasingly more often; the cards only made me realize it needed to happen sooner rather than later.

She gasped when I stayed stubbornly quiet, averting my eyes from hers. I knew the truth had hit her as if she'd run into a brick wall.

But it was strange that she hadn't been anticipating this. It was bound to happen.

"Astor—" I started, but she raised a hand in front of my face, willing me to shut up.

"Don't say anything," she half barked, half begged me. "I don't want to know."

She picked up her cards hurriedly, but when she stood, she tripped over the rug. The cards went flying, landing all over the floor.

She leaned down and so did I. We started picking up the cards without saying a single word, until we finally met in the middle, over the once again laid out card of the Ten of Swords.

We exchanged glances over it. 

"Don't do this now," she started, her voice tinged with that whining note that annoyed me so much.

But that morning, I couldn't muster any annoyance. I felt for Astor, and I vowed to help her. She'd been a vital help in my business, and she knew her stuff. I wanted to keep her on as long as she could remain professional.

"This doesn't have to change everything," I told her softly. "Things can stay pretty much the way they are, Astor. You can still work for me. We'll get you an apartment in the city. We'll take care of you."

"We," she repeated sarcastically. "Not you, Ryker?"

My mouth set in a thin line at another mention of my name. She knew I didn't like it. Probably just pushing my buttons to see how far she could go, if I was really serious about this breakup.

"Actually, don't answer that," she said stiffly.

We both stood, and I handed her the cards I had gathered. Before I did, I'd managed to hastily turn around the Ten of Swords so she wouldn't have to look at it again.

"Look," I said placatingly, "I'll probably see you tomorrow for the meeting with the buyer for the Caravaggio."

She nodded, refusing to meet my eyes, and I patted her shoulder awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, Astor. I shouldn't have dragged this out as much as I have. You deserve so much better than me. A man who will love you for who you are."

Now she turned her eyes to mine, and a numbness filled my chest at the sight of tears in her eyes. Why couldn't I care more about her? She was perfect, fucking perfect, yet I struggled to see her as anything other than a friend, and it had been that way for a few months. I'd tried to fight it, but the fact of the matter remained that I needed to end this now.

"Let me get Carlo to drive you to a hotel," I said. "I'll find a place for you tomorrow, but you can stay as long as you like. Maybe the Palazzo?"

"You better get me a big suite," she mumbled, and I laughed out loud, pleased to see that side of her coming out again.

"I will, Astor," I told her as I led her out of the house. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Yes." She nodded solemnly. "I'll be just fine. In fact, I'm going to be much better very soon."

"How come?" I asked curiously. She didn't speak of her personal life much, aside from what we did together.

"I'm expecting a visitor." She smiled.

"Oh, how lovely. An old friend?"

"No." Her smile widened. "My sister."