"May I ask whether you fully understand the history of the object you intend to purchase?"
His expression changed.
"What exactly are you suggesting?"
"Nothing that cannot be established by examining the records."
The auctioneer called for the next bid, interrupting their exchange.
Richard raised his paddle.
"Thirty-seven million."
Margaret paused.
Her attorney, Daniel Foster, had arrived and was standing near the rear doors. He approached her quickly.
"Margaret, the trust documents are being reviewed. We should avoid committing beyond what we can safely guarantee."
"I understand."
"Then perhaps we should wait."
She looked at the diamond.
"If I wait again, someone else may take it away before the records are examined."
Daniel hesitated.
He knew how long she had pursued the claim. He also knew that she had considered the financial consequences carefully. Nevertheless, he wanted her to make the decision with a clear understanding of the risks.
"One more bid," he said. "Then we reassess."
Margaret nodded.
"Thirty-eight million dollars."
The room erupted in whispers.
Richard Caldwell stared at her, his confidence finally giving way to uncertainty.
He had come to purchase a diamond.
He was beginning to suspect that he had entered a battle over something far more dangerous.
The auctioneer raised his gavel.
"Thirty-eight million dollars. Do I hear thirty-nine?"
Richard's hand moved toward his paddle.
Then he stopped.
Across the hall, Victoria was watching him with an expression he could not interpret.
For the first time that evening, he wondered whether the Harrington family had concealed something that might make the diamond worth far less than its glittering appearance suggested.
Richard Caldwell raised his paddle.
"Thirty-nine million dollars."
The auctioneer repeated the number, and several guests turned toward Margaret. The contest had become the evening's main attraction, drawing attention away from the other jewelry displayed around the room.
Margaret's attorney leaned close to her.
"We need to discuss your limit before you respond."
She nodded, but her gaze remained fixed on the diamond.
The Star of Aurelia had once belonged to a family whose name had vanished from the public record. Daniel Ellis had been entrusted with its examination, and his careful work had helped establish the stone's authenticity. Yet the official catalog credited its restoration to an anonymous European craftsman.
That omission had haunted Margaret for decades.
She remembered her father working late into the night, his magnifying lens balanced above one eye as he studied the diamond's internal structure. He had recorded every measurement, every angle, and every natural inclusion. He believed that accurate documentation was a moral obligation because a gemstone's history could be as valuable as its physical beauty.
Arthur Harrington had understood that value.
He had also understood how easily a reputation could be manipulated.
After the workshop burned, Arthur presented documents claiming that Daniel had sold the diamond. The papers appeared legitimate, and several influential witnesses supported Arthur's account. Daniel insisted that the signature was forged, but the investigation stalled.
Without the original ledger, he could not prove that the document had been fabricated.
Margaret remembered accompanying her father to a solicitor's office when she was fourteen. Daniel had placed the surviving photographs on the desk and explained the sequence of events. The solicitor listened carefully, then told him that the case would be difficult to pursue.