The necklace was beautiful.
But its significance went beyond the gemstones.
Evelyn intended it to become the centerpiece of a scholarship initiative for young craftspeople who couldn't afford formal training.
She wanted to create a path for students who had talent but lacked the money or connections to enter the luxury-jewelry industry.
In the final months of her life, she worked with Diana to establish the program.
They called it the First Light Apprenticeship Fund.
The first grants were modest.
They paid for tools, materials, and supervised training.
But Evelyn was proud of them.
One evening, sitting in the workshop where her career began, she held Diana's hand.
"Promise me one thing."
Diana smiled.
"What?"
Her mother looked toward the unfinished necklace.
"Don't let this company become the kind of place that would've turned me away when I was young."
Diana's eyes filled.
"I won't."
Evelyn nodded.
"Good."
Then she smiled faintly.
"And please remember that the person cleaning the floor deserves the same respect as the person buying the diamonds."
Diana laughed through tears.
"I know, Mom."
Her mother squeezed her hand.
"Make sure the people working for you know it too."
A few months later, Evelyn passed away.
The necklace remained unfinished.
Diana couldn't bring herself to touch it for almost a year.
When she finally returned to the project, she decided it would not be sold.
Instead, it would be completed by trusted master jewelers, displayed at selected charitable events, and used to raise support for the apprenticeship fund.
That decision created the connection between The First Light and the gala scheduled for the evening of Diana's confrontation with Patricia Wittmann.
By the time Diana turned forty-two, Aurelle had become a complicated business.
The company operated multiple boutiques, employed more than two hundred people, and managed valuable custom commissions for clients around the world.
Diana remained the controlling owner and chief executive through the family's holding company.
But she couldn't personally supervise every store.
She relied on regional managers, operations directors, human resources professionals, security specialists, and senior craftspeople to maintain standards.
Most worked hard.
Some were exceptional.
Others had gradually become more concerned with sales figures than the principles on which the company was founded.
The Beverly Hills flagship was particularly demanding.
It served collectors, entertainment executives, international travelers, and wealthy clients whose purchases could reach seven figures.
The pressure to meet quarterly targets was considerable.
Diana believed the company's customer-service standards were clear.
But during the six months before her visit, a troubling pattern began appearing in internal reports.
Three complaints described customers being discouraged from entering or browsing because staff questioned whether they were serious buyers.