The Third Sin Read Online Free Page B

married Bella. Jorge, by then head of the family, objected strenuously to the marriage. Bella was Brazilian, but of a different class than the Diases and a gold digger if he ever saw one. Her brothers were ruffians, and Jorge barely persuaded her to sign the prenuptial agreement he had so carefully prepared. At Bella’s instigation Wade had sold the beach house his grandmother had left him, and which had been in the family for more than eighty years.
    From the day of their wedding, Wade’s demands for money from the Dias trust had increased dramatically. Jorge had given him much of what he’d asked for, but recently he had become concerned about the drain on the family’s finances.
    Now Wade was refusing to sell the Braganza back to the family so that it could be brought back to Brazil, its rightful home. His response to Jorge’s last offer had been a vengeful, brief e-mail: “Uncle, I warned you. You have refused to help me since I married. Now I have to put the diamond on the open market. It will bring more than you can pay.”
    Ignoring his doctor’s advice to rest, Jorge was flying to New York to settle the matter once and for all. He was determined to get his hands on the stone before it was advertised for auction. He would insist that Wade sell the Braganza to him and his investors, and at a fair price. It must be returned to Brazil. It was a matter of his family’s pride and honor.
    Of course he could sue to recover the Braganza, but given the lack of documentation, the outcome in the United States courts might be disappointing, and the public disgrace of a legal battle was the last thing he wanted. Still, if Wade wouldn’t sell him the diamond, he would do whatever was necessary.
    Jorge put down the newspaper and pulled off the navy cashmere scarf his wife had put around his neck as he bent to kiss her good-bye. “Leave it on,” Elenora had insisted as he tried to remove it. “The air-conditioning in those planes is freezing.” She had clung to his arm, tears glistening on her cheeks. “I’ve always come to New York with you. Why are you refusing me now?”
    He’d shaken off her hands and climbed into the backseat of the limo. Through the open window, Jorge had said, trying to be reassuring, “My heart is fine. I’ll be back before you know I’ve gone.” He’d seen tears well up in her eyes and had added, “I’ll call you when I get to the airport.”
    Now as he folded the scarf precisely, calmed by the softness of the cashmere, he refused to feel guilty for not bringing her. But what lay between him and Wade was man’s business and her constant chatter would disturb them. Perhaps, once he had secured the jewel, he would let Elenora wear it once, before they gave it to the museum.
    He put the scarf and the newspaper into his briefcase, took out his cell phone, and pressed his home number.
    Elenora picked up after the first ring. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve talked to the pilot and we’ll take off right on schedule. The next time you speak to me I’ll be in New York.” She wouldn’t let him finish.
    â€œWade is no longer your motherless little nephew who needs protection,” she argued.
    As he took deep breaths to ease the tension mounting in his chest, he wondered if she realized how much her anxiety tired him. “Yes, yes, stop your nagging.”
    â€œWhat if we don’t get the Braganza back? Who cares? It’s been in New York so long that most people have forgotten about it. You have children and grandchildren who love you and need you to guide them, not to mention your wife. Don’t be foolish with your old-fashioned talk about honor. Your health is more important.”
    Jorge spoke quickly, cutting her off. “The pilot must leave on time. If everything goes as planned, I’ll see Wade tonight and have good news tomorrow. You’ll see.