Marilyn Monroe Plates Collectibles Novels & Stories

Minka said, as Victoria got out and dried off. Victoria stared at the dress. It was amazing. It was an exact replica of the white Seven Year Itch dress that Marilyn Monroe had worn...except this one was blood red. She had seen the movie a few years ago on one of her rare free days off. She had gone to a two dollar theater near her family's apartment that played old movies. They were playing all Marilyn movies that weekend, so she stayed and watched three of them. Anything to stay away from her apartment. Her mom and dad weren't exactly a blast to hang around.

"Now that’s high-society goals. I need to get a bird." He doesn't laugh, but his eyes dance. Finally, we reach a small, velvet-lined case that has a literal crowd of people hovering around it. Inside, resting on a bed of black silk, is a necklace. It’s a delicate string of diamonds with a teardrop emerald that looks like it’s glowing from within. "Marilyn Monroe’s," Tobias says, and his voice actually softens. "She wore it to the premiere of The Misfits. It’s been in a private vault in Switzerland for thirty years."

"What about it?" "Custom-made. Platinum Montblanc with hand-engraved lunar phases and a Coleman Corp blue diamond inset in the clip. Only six exist in the world." James pulled out his tablet, showing me the authentication certificate he'd somehow obtained. "Five are accounted for—one in Michael's personal collection seized by the Feds, one gifted to the President of Singapore during the trade delegation, one in Maria's possession, one in a private collection in Dubai, and one presented to the Museum of American Business Innovation last year."

He was drawing her into his confidence, making her his co-conspirator. "There is one piece," he whispered, his gaze intense. "A Monet from his Water Lilies series. It was last seen in a private collection in Paris in 1941, before the owner was 'disappeared'. It is considered the holy grail for collectors of lost art. To see it… to stand before it…" He shook his head slightly, as if overwhelmed by the thought. "That would be a thrill no poker game could ever match." Katya’s mind raced. She maintained a mask of sympathetic interest, but beneath the surface, the gears of a plan were already turning with cold, silent precision.

I pressed the screen into Mark’s view. “There,” I said, forcing my voice to be soft. “That’s the one. A Mercedes A-Class, olive. Marion’s nickname on the plate. If you see that, don’t hesitate. Stay close. Follow her every turn.” Mark leaned in, studying the photo. “You’re sure this is hers?” “Of course it’s hers. Who else?” I cut off, tasting impatience. “Just be careful. If you see that plate, don’t get sloppy.”

“A seven-million-dollar practice design plate, right.” At the ridicule in his voice, Andrea only glared at him. If only the tube case was not too hard, she would have smacked him with it. She only huffed. “Why would it be worth seven million?” She wished she didn’t ask. When Andrea opened the tube case and slid the design plate into her palm, she saw the unique watermark on the back of Monarch’s design plates. She carefully opened the plate that was rolled up, and her lungs forgot to breathe. Her eyes were stuck on the familiar drawings that she once did, and her hands couldn’t help but tremble at the sight.