I crawl under the table and eventually locate Alexis’s discarded wedding ring by the leg of one chair. I hold it on the flat of my hand and study it. When it had been on her hand, the ring always surprised me. It seemed to shine brighter and brighter each time she moved her hand, as if it was reflecting her smile.

Now it barely sparkles.

A fist constricts around my heart.

I’m such an idiot. She was the best thing in my life and I've royally fucked it up.

I deserve to lose her.

The words I said to her bounce around in my skull, booming louder and louder.

I handled the situation all wrong.

I realized that the second Alexis stormed out of the room.

Rather than doing the sensible thing when I found my statue missing in my bag, and taking a few minutes to really think the situation through, I’d focused on one possibility, and lashed out.

Even as I hurled the words at her and watched her composure crumble, I knew I was wrong.

It didn’t make any sense. I should have realized that right away.

After all, I've read the Interpol reports. Everything indicated that whoever the thief was, they were very smart – definitely not the kind of person who would take things that could easily be linked back to them.

But my statue. I’d personally tucked into the little side compartment I always used for it this morning so it hadn’t been forgotten at the castle. But when I reached into that same compartment for an energy bar an hour later, it was gone.

I’ve always been protective of my fencing equipment, which is why I haul my bag everywhere instead of paying someone else to schlepp it around. Alexis was the only one who’d gotten near it.

I couldn’t see her letting anyone rifle through the bag while I was speaking to Roderick.

So, what had happened?

Each of the last three thefts have pointed directly at Alexis, with each one making it increasingly difficult to explain how anyone else could have been involved. Is she the target? Is someone trying to incriminate her?

But who? And more importantly – why?

A faint suspicion tickles the back of my mind. It seems ridiculous, but maybe …

Maybe if I catch the true culprit, and can show Alexis that I was conned into blaming her, maybe, just maybe she’ll agree to speak to me again. And if the moons and stars are aligned just right, perhaps somehow I’ll be able to find the right words to convince her to give me a second chance.

Even now, it feels like a long shot.

Someone knocks on the door. I ignore them. Talking Alexis into staying is going to take a lot of work, a lot of groveling, and a lot of finesse, and she’d still be justified in kicking me in the teeth and walking away. I need to come up with a plan and for that I need to be alone.

The person knocks on the door a second time. “Yo, Lucas,” Roderick yells. “You in there?”

He’s probably here to tell me it’s time for my second round. Well, screw that. “Tell them I’m forfeiting.”

“Um, that bodyguard you hired, Christopher, is here with me, and he says that Alexis ran out of here and disappeared. He thinks she jumped in a cab but he was too far away to get the plate number.”

Shit! If I wasn’t sitting, my knees would have buckled.

I scramble out from underneath the table, managing to whack my knee on a chair leg and smash my head into the underside of the table top in the process.

My heart thunders in my chest.

I throw the door open and stare at the two men on the other side.

“How the hell did you lose her?” I demand.

Christopher stares at the ground. “She was moving fast. I managed to keep up with her until a food cart rolled in front of me. By the time I got around that, she was outside and gone. Someone said they saw her get in a cab, but they didn’t get the number.”

I dig my cell phone out of my pocket and dial my driver, already on the move.

“Christopher, we’re going to the museum and see if she’s there. Roderick – you call Tessa and see if she knows where Alexis is.”

Odds are that Alexis is safe and sound, but I can’t ignore the nagging feeling at the back of my brain that she’s in serious trouble.

And that it’s all my fault.