The Diamond Cufflinks

Evelyn’s POV

Tonight, I needed rest after the long day I just had.

I was just getting out of my bathroom when I heard the sound of the door getting shut. I went to my living room to investigate but that’s when it happened.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the steam still clinging to my skin, the living room was cloaked in shadow. Only the faint glow from the streetlamps outside spilled through the curtains, painting his outline across the sofa.

He was there—broad-shouldered, sitting idly as though he had been waiting. I froze, towel clutched in my hands, my pulse stuttering. I couldn’t see his face, only his form, but recognition swept me all the same.

He was the escort.

“You came…” My voice came out softer than I intended.

He startled faintly, as if he hadn’t expected me to speak first. Rising, he hesitated before moving closer, the sound of his steps careful, unhurried. His presence loomed cautious.

For a long beat, neither of us moved.

“I’m tired…” I managed to say in a whisper “ Could we…do it next time?”

His reply came low, almost hushed. “Of course.”

Relief trickled through me, unexpected. But instead of stepping back, he lifted his hands—slowly, so I could stop him if I wished—and rested them lightly on my shoulders. His thumbs pressed gently, kneading the tension I hadn’t realized I carried.

A shiver ran through me, not of fear but release. My muscles softened under his touch.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, voice quiet, reverent. “Let me help you with that...”

I should have pulled away, should have gone straight to bed. But the gentleness in his movements—each circle of his thumb, each careful press—unwound me more effectively than sleep ever could.

My eyes drifted shut, a sigh slipping free.

The warmth of his chest brushed against my back as he leaned closer, but even then he didn’t overstep. He waited, letting me choose.

And in that still, shadowed room, with only his steady presence surrounding me, my tiredness shifted into something else. Something that made me want him despite everything.

“Feeling better?” he asked

I turned slightly, not enough to see his face in the dark, but enough to whisper, “ Just… don’t let go yet.”

He continued, almost professionally.. And when I let myself sink against him, it wasn’t because I was giving in—it was because I wanted him, in that moment, more than sleep.

He fell in..

When morning came, sunlight creeped into my bed. I blinked my eyes open, taking in the glare of the morning brightness.

My body ached—not unpleasantly, but with a silent reminder of the intense night I hadn’t planned to have.

I rolled onto my side, groggy, and that’s when I saw it.

On the pillow beside me, nestled against the sheets as though accidentally left behind, was a cufflink. Diamond, gleaming faintly even in the thin sunlight.

I frowned, picking it up between my fingers. Heavy, cold. Exquisite. Too expensive.

This wasn’t something a regular escort would carry.

Memory flashed through me like a blade. The banquet. The lights. The laughter. And him—my ex-husband’s friend—wearing the exact similar cufflinks.

Ben.

“No…” I whispered, shaking my head as though to dislodge the thought. “That’s ridiculous.”

But was it? His height, the intensity of his presence… his embrace and voice that sounded familiar. Too familiar.

I pressed the cufflink harder into my palm, as if pain would force logic back into me. “It can’t be.”

The door opened with a quiet creak.

I snapped towards the door a bit startled, the cufflink sliding from my hand back onto the sheets.

“Sorry.” He said “ I thought I’d have to wake you up.”

It was Alex. Calm as always, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his expression carefully blank.

“I’ll get right to it,” he continued. “There’s a meeting scheduled in less than two hours. Should I prepare the car?”

For a moment, I just stared at him. My mind whirled with too many things: the night, the cufflink, the suspicions that were forcing me to arrive to a quick conclusion.

Finally, I forced myself upright. My voice, when it came, was calm, even if my mind was chaotic. “Alex.”

“Yes, Miss?”

I reached for the cufflink, held it up so the diamond glinted sharply between us. “I want you to find out who this belongs to.”

His eyes flickered—not much, but enough.

“This?” he asked, tone neutral.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “Trace the man. I don’t care how. I want to know exactly who this man is. The… escort. Everything about him.”

Alex’s lips parted, hesitating just slightly. “Miss Evelyn… isn’t that—”

“Do it,” I cut in. My fingers clenched around the cufflink until its edges pressed into my skin.

“And I want answers Alex. I don’t care how absurd it sounds. Find out.”

He bowed his head slightly. “Alright.”

I leaned back against the pillows, cufflink still clutched in my hand, my thoughts spiraling.

As I stood, I set the cufflink on the nightstand, staring at it as though it might blink back at me. The rational part of my brain screamed that I was overthinking, letting exhaustion and paranoia twist reality.

But another part—quieter, more logical—whispered that I was right. That the cufflink wasn’t an accident. That the familiarity I’d felt wasn’t a trick of my imagination.

I walked to my wardrobe and picked out the day’s outfit.

“What am I doing?” I murmured. “What would it benefit me to find out?”

Ben, with his strong stare. Ben, who had watched me at the banquet like he could strip me bare with a glance.

Was it his?

Was Ben the escort?

I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t. But if it was him…

My stomach tightened, my mind recoiling. I pressed a hand against my ribs, pausing to catch my breath, as if the very thought of it had winded me. How utterly ridiculous. I knew better than this—I was raised better than this.

There should always be a Plan B. My father, who was a strong leader, had drilled that into me. My mother too, though her lessons had been hazy, softened by time.

The diamond cufflink glinted in my palm. It wasn’t just a piece of jewelry anymore—it was something that held mystery to it..

Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering only a second before pressing the dial. The private investigator’s number rang in my ear.

“Hello,” I said, my voice low but steady. “I have a matter I’d like to trouble you with…”