Black Opal’s Three Tests of True Love Chapter 05

Across town, Leandro and Alaric were speeding toward the Hudson River.

The celebration was set aboard a luxury mega–yacht moored along the pier.

Alaric frowned from the passenger seat.

“She took the pink diamond, too?”

“Not a single word about returning any of it?”

Leandro tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight.

An irritating, restless knot twisted in his gut.

“None.”

Alaric sighed, shaking his head.

When they boarded the yacht, my supposedly deceased father and terminally ill mother were already standing on the sun deck, looking remarkably healthy and vibrant.

Five years ago, the Morettis tracked down their long–lost youngest daughter–me, working odd jobs all over Brooklyn just to pay off my student loans.

Yet, taking in my cheap, worn jacket that hadn’t seen a washing machine in weeks, they hesitated. The Moretti syndicate was no longer what it used to be. They controlled private banks, dock logistics, and private security; a single misplaced file could send shockwaves rippling through a small nation. Bringing in a new member demanded absolute caution.

And so, a rigorous test designed for the future princess of the Moretti empire began.Had they not truly intended to welcome me into their inner circle, none of them would have wasted so much

effort laying out such an elaborate game.

Noticing Alaric had arrived without me, Mom hurried forward.

“Where’s Odessa? Why isn’t she with you? Did you bring her?”

Alaric shrugged casually.

“Relax. It’s her birthday. She’d never pass up a chance to collect presents.”

Leandro said nothing, dialing my number instead.

Straight to voicemail.

He blinked, a knot of confusion forming between his brows.

Why wasn’t she picking up?

Before Alaric could say anything, Leandro’s phone rang.

It was the head of Voss private security.

“Mr. Voss, we have an urgent situation that needs your clearance.”

“What is it?”

“A local junk hauler reached out to our dispatch. He claims someone offloaded a massive haul of high–end luxury goods to him at standard bulk–scrap rates. Several items carry custom Voss family,

hallmarks. He was terrified of getting caught up in syndicate blowback, so he called to verify before

moving them.”

“Did you authorize this disposal?”

The entire sun deck fell dead silent.

Only Leandro’s breathing grew ragged against the receiver.

“Luxury goods sold… as scrap?”

The security lead continued, “Yes, sir. He says every piece looks authentic and extremely valuable.

He didn’t want any smoke with the family, so he’s holding everything at our secondary warehouse

until you inspect it.”

The voice came through the speaker loud and clear.

Alaric’s eyes went wide.

“Aren’t those the exact gifts you gave Odessa? Did she sell them?”

“Wait, that doesn’t make any sense! She obsessed over those things! She took photos with them and

kept them locked up like treasure. Why the hell would she throw them away as junk?”

Leandro didn’t have an answer.

A suffocating sense of dread clawed at his chest.

“Hold the scrap dealer. I’m on my way.”

Ending the call, he abandoned the elaborate birthday charade without a second thought.

He stormed toward the gangway, Alaric hot on his heels.

Leandro slammed on the gas and sped up, cold sweat coating his palms around the wheel.

Alaric blew up my phone repeatedly from the passenger seat.

Still no answer.

His face drained of color.

“Why isn’t she answering? Why would she dump those things for pennies?”

Leandro kept his mouth shut, staring grimly ahead.

A terrifying suspicion was taking shape in his mind, but he didn’t dare give it a name

When they pulled up to the Voss security warehouse, the staff had already laid the entire collection

across a row of tables.

Leandro recognized every single piece instantly: birthday Birkins, anniversary diamond chokers, tailored evening dresses, Cartier bangles, and diamond rings. Everything was laid out neatly,

abandoned like worthless clutter.

The junk hauler scrambled forward the second he saw Leandro.

“Boss, I swear on my life, I didn’t steal anything! A young lady called my service and personally

handed it all over!”

Leandro drew a ragged breath, pulling up a photo of me on his phone.

“Was it her?”

The hauler leaned in, nodding emphatically.

“Yes! That’s her! She insisted it was just old junk taking up space. I knew high–end gear when I saw it, which is why I flagged your people!”

Alaric’s jaw dropped.

It really was Odessa?

His materialistic, penny–pinching sister who hoarded every gift like her life depended on it… had thrown it all away for pocket change?

A storm of unanswered questions battered his mind, solidifying into raw panic.

Leandro’s chest heaved. He spun on his heel and strode out.

“Mr. Voss! What do I do with the boxes?” the hauler shouted after him.

“Keep them.”

Leandro didn’t look back.

Alaric jumped into the passenger seat, sweating. “Is Odessa at the penthouse?”

Leandro shook his head, tossing a single key into Alaric’s lap. His voice broke.

“Yesterday, she told me there was a surprise waiting in her closet.”

At the time, he brushed it off.

He figured she had blown up balloons, or bought him a watch or a designer tie to butter him up.

He hadn’t cared.

He assumed it was just another calculated move to ask for something bigger.

Yet now, knowing she had discarded thousands of dollars in heirlooms like trash, he could no

longer convince himself she was just a shallow gold–digger.

Alaric understood, his heart sinking into his stomach.

They made the hour–long drive in just twenty minutes.

Tires screeched violently outside the Upper East Side building.

Both men bolted through the lobby and up the stairs, their footing chaotic.

Arriving at the walk–in closet, Leandro froze with the key trembling against the lock.

“What are you waiting for?” Alaric urged, out of breath.

Leandro shook his head.

He couldn’t explain it, but that closed door felt like Pandora’s box.

Once opened, there would be no turning back.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he forced the key into the slot.

Click.

The door swung inward.

The once–dazzling closet was completely gutted.

No clothes, no jewelry, not even the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

Nothing remained but bare wooden shelves and a solitary stool sitting in the center.

Two sheets of paper lay on the stool. Leandro stepped slowly closer and glanced down.

In the next second, his eyes blew wide.

A positive pregnancy confirmation.

And an abortion discharge summary.