Jewelry Doctor Novels & Stories

"We are a hospital, Miss Hayes. Not a pawn shop. We don't take jewelry." "Please! Just look at it. My father said it was valuable. It’s an Omega. It’s real gold!" She sighed. It was a long, annoyed sound. She picked it up with two fingers, looking like she didn't want to get her hands dirty. She turned it over, squinting at the back. Then, she set it down with a soft clack on the counter. "It’s gold-plated, Miss Hayes. Not solid. And the movement inside is seized. It hasn't ticked in years, has it?"

It was a fully built, state-of-the-art master jewelry studio. Row after row of top-tier precision tools, laser-welding stations, magnification scopes, imported gemstone vaults, and heavy-duty casting furnaces sat neatly arranged on custom mahogany workbenches. On the main drafting desk in the center rested a thick stack of premium Italian sketchbooks, custom graphite pencils, and a rare set of jeweler's loupes engraved with her initials: V.S.

"Are you sure?" "Of course." "Well then, let's make a bet. If my bracelet is counterfeit, you can pick anything in this shop, and I'll pay for it. If it's real, you'll pay me double the price of my bracelet. What do you say?" Brie agreed immediately. "Sure. Send for Mr. York." Mr. York was the most professional appraiser in the jewelry store. He could tell the authenticity of any jewel with just a glimpse. Gwen tugged at Caroline's sleeve. In a lowered voice, she said, "Carol, weren't you a bit too rash?" If the bracelet really was fake …

She purchased Aspen T-shirts for herself, Jodi, and Gabriella. They stopped at a coffee shop for coffee and a snack. They headed back to the jewelry store. “Hello again, Ms. Garvey,” the jeweler said. His name was Robert Warren. He was middle-aged and bald on top of his head. He had a little bit of dark hair around his temples. “Hi, Mr. Warren. Is my bracelet ready?” she asked. “It sure is. Here you go,” Mr. Warren said and handed her the long white box. Jackie opened it to examine the bracelet. “Looks like you did a fine job.”

My jaw is set so tight it aches. I glance to my right, noticing the boutique situated there. I’ve heard of it before. They sell custom jewelry, even more expensive than Tiffany and Cartier. It’s owned by an ultra-exclusive designer whose name is whispered rather than advertised. The kind of place that requires an appointment just to look at the door handle. No piece is ever repeated. Every item is one of a kind. I’m about to look away when something in the window catches the light. It’s a bracelet. A cuff, wide and heavy, crafted from brushed white gold. But it’s not delicate. It looks like armor.

NARA The sudden, heavy silence in the office was suffocating. David, the older gemologist, picked up the official certification documents resting on the mahogany desk. He flipped through the crisp, stamped papers, his eyes moving rapidly between the text and the glittering stone sitting in the velvet box. He adjusted his jeweler’s loupe, leaning down to look through the lens a second time. He stared at the diamond for several long, agonizing seconds before slowly straightening his back. He pulled the loupe away from his eye, his face completely rigid.

"But I deserved it." He looked confused. "He found out about the plan." "What plan?" "I have a criminal record, Nash, and you might be one of the best lawyers, but you can't save me from prison when the truth comes out." "Have you ever heard of the notorious jewel thief?" He nodded quietly. "Wait, that's you?" "How?" "I've been doing it for years. I've been wearing disguises that made me unrecognizable, and I stole jewels from the highest bidders who loved to collect them."

The jeweler had only managed to locate a tiny piece, far too small for the ring unless it was altered. When I arrived at the small shop tucked into a side alley of the mall, I pushed the door open and the bell jingled. Dion, the jeweler, was slouched over his laptop, glasses perched on his nose. He looked up with a sigh, removing them and setting them on the display case. “Any luck, Dion?” I asked as I approached the counter. He smirked. “Your son just had to choose Serendibite,” he said, shaking his head and running a hand through his gelled hair. His tattooed arms folded across his chest, giving him more the appearance of a biker than a jeweler.

I said, and he looked at me like I had just spoken some strange language. “No need to thank me, it is my job,” he said. I took out some pieces of jewellery that I found lying about Khai’s room. Just plain necklaces and chains. I knew they meant very little to him judging by the way he always tossed them around carelessly and never bothered to look for them again. But they were of high monetary value. Taking the doctors hands, I placed the golden jewellery in his palm. He looked at it like I had just dropped a bomb in his hand.

“The doctor said he shouldn’t be discharged yet, but he insisted on coming to give you these jewelry pieces. He even had a diamond ring custom-made for you. I’ve never seen Dylan put so much effort into any woman. You’re truly special to him!” His assistant said. I pushed away the bag. To me, they were far less valuable than a simple necklace worth 500 yuan. “I don’t want to be special. I want loyalty, someone irreplaceable, someone who is the only one!”