“You need to bring that bastard back to me!” Titus roared. “That’s why she’s been taken in, I know it! He’s released the pictures!”

“Tito, you need to calm down,” Anders sighed. “I don’t think George Vander has anything to do with this.”

“What the hell else could it be? It’s not a coincidence.”

Anders shrugged. “It might be.”

Titus stared at his brother, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Well?” he demanded when Anders took too long to respond.

“There’s new evidence against her,” Anders explained slowly. “And it’s not good.”

Titus’ eyes narrowed. “What evidence?”

Anders grunted and turned away to look out into the back of the property.

“I’m not even sure I should be discussing this with you, Tito. It’s a breach of confidentiality, and I haven’t discussed it with Arabella yet.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m the reason you’re even here right now,” Titus reminded him, scoffing. “Trust me, Bella doesn’t care what you tell me.”

Anders spun back to look at him. “Tito, I think you’re blinded by whatever resemblance this woman has to Isabella. You’re not acting rationally, and it’s going to affect not only your company, but your heart as well.”

Titus gaped at him. “Where is all this coming from? A week ago, you admitted that she was Isabella, too!”

“I said I could see the resemblance,” Anders said, “but obviously, she’s not the same person. She couldn’t be.”

“You don’t know anything about her!” Titus snapped.

“I know more than you,” Anders retorted. “That’s why I’m trying to warn you right now, if you’d just listen to what I’m saying instead of being defensive.”

Titus clamped his teeth together.

“Fine,” he growled. “Go ahead and tell me.”

Again, Anders looked uncomfortable, but he hesitatingly opened his mouth to speak.

“This new evidence,” he started, “is one of her accomplices claiming that Arabella is the mastermind behind the entire operation.”

Titus’ jaw dropped, and he stared at his brother for several seconds before erupting into laughter.

“And you took this guy’s word?” he demanded. “What if I talk to Botha and tell her that I’m the alien overlord and—”

“Would you listen to yourself?” Anders growled. “You’re irrational, not acting like yourself at all! I have heard the evidence, and I’m inclined to believe the witness.”

“You’re what?” Titus spat, disbelief coloring his face. “How can you say that?”

“I am still going to defend Arabella,” Anders said. “But I am warning you, Titus, there may be more to this girl than meets the eye.”

“Just get her the hell out of prison!” Titus yelled, his face flushed with fury. This was madness. There was no way that Bella had had anything to do with robbing the reserve. His brother didn’t know her like Titus did, but Bella didn’t have it in her.

He thought about the traitor who had turned on Bella despite her desire to keep all the other accomplices safe.

Skylar is a son of a bitch, he thought. He knew they would all turn on each other in the end while he’s off working on his next mark: me.

There was so much at stake; his company and Arabella’s freedom.

I don’t care about Williams Tech right now, he thought, pacing around the sitting room as his brother watched him silently, wisely holding his tongue. I can rebuild. I have done it before.

He didn’t want to admit that the idea of losing his pride and joy after the three-quarters of a century he had put into it filled him with nausea.

You can’t lose Isabella again, he decided. Even if I have to shift and steal her out of there. She is not going to waste away for something she did not do.

“Why are you still here?” Titus spat. “Shouldn’t you be preparing your defense?”

“I am waiting for a glimmer of rationality in your eyes, but I can see that’s not coming any time soon.” Anders rose from where he was perched on a wing chair, shaking his head. “I don’t want to see you disappointed and hurt.”

Titus scoffed. “It is not me who is going to be hurt,” he growled, his mind beginning to turn. “Just do your job, Anders.”

His brother did not reply, exiting the chicly-decorated sitting room.

I have to find Skylar, Titus thought tersely. And as many of the others as I can.

He didn’t have a second to consider how he was going to do that—Marta strolled in and handed him his ringing cellular phone.

“Not now,” he sighed, waving her away.

“I think you might want to take it,” she replied, extending her hand insistently. “He’s called six times in the past hour.”

“Who the hell is it?” He snatched the phone as it rang its last chime and saw the name on the screen.

Joseph Holte.

A knot formed in Titus’ belly.

I really don’t have time for this today, he thought furiously, but something told him he needed to return the call immediately. As Marta had said, there were half a dozen missed calls from him.

“Are you okay, Tito?” Marta asked.

“No!” he exploded. “I’m not okay! There is not one damned thing going right at the moment, but thank you for asking!” Marta’s mouth became a fine line of annoyance, and Titus was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s not your fault, obviously. My nerves are a little shot right now.”

“Yes, I can see that,” she said. “Come and have something to eat before you pass out. You haven’t eaten a bite since she got taken yesterday.”

Was that only yesterday? he asked himself. It feels like she’s been gone a month already. He thought about how scared and worried she must be alone in prison. I promised to protect her, and I failed. Does she hate me right now? Is she furious?

But Titus knew instinctively that she was not angry with him. She had always forgiven him for everything. She had always understood. Back then, he hadn’t had a choice—everything he’d done had been at the mercy of his father. Today he did have a choice, he had the world at his fingertips, and yet he was still powerless to be with her.

He followed Marta into the kitchen, where she had just pulled a plateful of sosaties from the barbecue. The smell of the skewered beef kabobs met his nose, and he suddenly realized just how hungry he was.

“Sit down,” Marta instructed. “I’ll get you a beer.” Titus nodded obligingly, grateful that she was there.

I have taken her for granted after all these years, he thought, blinking. She’s kept me afloat here, and I’ve barely lifted my eyes from my work. She and Solomon are getting a huge raise when this is all over and done with.

“Here,” she said, dropping a plate of rice and sosaties in from of him, a light ale following.

He sighed heavily. “Thank you, Marta,” he told her gruffly. “This is just what I need to get my head on straight right now.”

“I know,” she replied lightly. “Zeveli!”

“Cheers,” he chuckled, raising his bottle and placing it to his lips for a quick swig.

“Everything will work out,” Marta told him as she turned back to the counter. “You can’t run yourself ragged in the meantime.”

“You don’t know that,” he said, but before Marta could respond, his cell began to ring again. “Oh, come on!” Titus growled. “One minute of peace. I just want to eat, for the love of God!” He wiped his mouth hastily and tossed the linen aside, snatching the phone. “Joe, what is so urgent that you need to call me ten times in an hour?” he snapped, his patience gone.

“Well, maybe if you returned my calls you would know,” the chairman of the board replied evenly.

Titus stifled a sigh. “What do you want, Joe? This has been a very rough week. Can it wait until—?”

“Yes, I’ve heard about your rather complicated week,” Joe cut him off, his thick South African accent laced with disgust.

“What have you heard?”

“I heard that you bailed a known fugitive and computer hacker out of jail to shack up with you on your compound. Is that true or not?”

Titus inhaled. I should have seen this coming. I was just too distracted by everything else to do damage control.

“She’s an American citizen,” Titus tried to explain. “If she had been thrown into the system, she would never have been seen again. I felt bad for her.”

“Then you let the US embassy deal with it! I know you have done your philanthropy works, Titus, but this is just odd. You must admit.”

Titus chewed on his tongue and waited. Just get on with your damned reprimanding and let me finish my dinner! I have things to do! he thought, furious that he was made to endure a tongue lashing as if he was a small child.

But that was what he had to do sometimes to appease his investors.

There was not a business in the world that could be handled by one man. There was always a board of directors behind it.

“I also heard that you brought her to Williams’ headquarters. Is that true?”

Titus thought quickly, but he knew there was no point in denying it. He had not bothered to erase the surveillance video.

Trina ratted me out to the board, he thought. Oh, when I get my hands on her…

“Titus? Is that true?”

“Yes.”

There was a long, ominous silence.

“You brought a known hacker into our highly-secured building and gave her clearance?” Joe choked.

“You said you already knew that,” Titus replied nonchalantly. “Why do you sound so stunned now?”

“Because I can’t imagine why anyone would do something so blatantly stupid, so reckless, so—”

“I suppose you had not heard that we had already been hacked, then?” Titus said conversationally, and he heard Joe inhaled sharply.

“When? Who? By what?” the old man sputtered. “We have the most secure computers in the world! That is what we do!”

“Now you understand why I had to resort to desperate measures to see what happened. Our techs couldn’t determine the reason behind it, so—”

“How do you know that Arabella Pinot is not responsible for the hack?” Joe yelled, and Titus could almost see the vein in his bald head throbbing.

“You really do have no faith in my capacity as CEO, do you? The hack happened before Arabella appeared in the picture. Why do you think I took her in? I needed her help—for the company.”

The silence was deeper now, and Titus could hear the wheels turning in the old timer’s head.

“I see,” Joe said finally, clearing his throat in embarrassment. “What did she learn?”

“It’s ongoing, but we have the identity of the hacker.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t want to discuss the details right now, Joe, especially not on the phone.”

“Of course, of course. I—well, I’m sorry I doubted you, Titus. As you can imagine, we were all very concerned, and…” Joe didn’t finish his sentence. Clearing his throat again, he released a quick chuckle. “Well, it’s a pity she’s back in prison, but at least we have what we need, right?” Joe commented.

A burning anger smacked Titus in the face. A woman’s life and reputation are on the line, and your only concern is your damned image. “Anything else, Joe?”

“No. But do keep me updated about our culprit.”

“Goodbye, Joe.” He disconnected the call and cast the phone aside on the table.

For the first time, Titus realized his hands were shaking.

“Is that true?”

His head jerked up, and he looked at Marta, who stared at him as if he was a stranger. “What?”

“You only brought her here to help with your problem?” she asked him.

“Of course not,” he retorted, reaching for his fork.

“Then why did you bring her?” Titus watched her through his peripheral vision, slowly chewing.

“I felt like I needed to help her.” At least that part is true.

“Why did you lie to Holte?”

Under normal circumstances, he would have been irritated by her questions, but Marta did not usually pry.

She’s worried about Arabella, too, he realized. Titus placed the fork on the edge of the plate, his appetite suddenly gone. Nobody understands the way business works, he thought. She simply has no clue.

“Because if I didn’t come up with a plausible story for him, he and the board were going to ask me to step down as CEO.”