your support of the gala, and the Glittering Court Exhibition. We’re raising money for a very worthy cause. Thank you.” She stepped away from the microphone.
Rome stepped in and took her arm. More reporters shouted out questions, but he ignored them and led her away.
He took her down to Ace’s computer room. It was one of the few spaces with no windows or glass walls, and offered more privacy.
Once they were inside, she blew out a breath.
Ace was kicked back in a chair, a coffee mug in hand. “Vultures gone?”
“Not soon enough,” Rome said. “Sofie, this is our tech guru, Ace Olivera.”
“Hello, Ace.”
“Nice to meet you, Princess Sofia. Although I hear you go by Sofie.” The man shot her a wide smile.
“I do.”
On-screen, Rome watched the guards herding the reporters out of the office.
“So,” Ace said, “ready to get to work on the Black Fox gang? If that’s exciting enough for Robin Hood.” Ace winked.
Sofie flushed prettily.
“What have you got?” Rome knew Ace would have already been digging.
Ace tapped the keyboard and data filled the screens. There was a global map covered in red dots.
“I’ve got a lot. The gang’s been operating for years, and growing bolder over recent months.”
Sofie studied the screens, her face serious. “I have a few more of their jobs to add.” She pulled her laptop out of her bag.
She and Ace swapped data. They sat at Ace’s desk, heads pressed together, and Rome leaned against the wall and watched.
Ace pulled up some of the files he’d collected. Sofie studied the screen.
Rome suddenly saw her stiffen. He glanced over and saw a picture of an attractive brunette on the screen.
“Sofie?” He moved up behind her.
“That’s Tori.” A sad smile crossed her face. “I miss her so much.”
Rome didn’t care that Ace was there, he pulled her out of her chair and to his chest.
She held on for a second, then patted his chest. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“Vander picked up some chatter from some informants,” Ace said.
“I did.” Vander strode in. “My informant said the thieves are after the Sapphire Wave Tiara.”
“I already suspected as much,” Sofie said.
Vander crossed his arms. “And they’re going to target the gala night.”
Rome cursed. “You’re not wearing it.”
Sofie straightened. “It’s the centerpiece of the exhibit. I’m not going to let these cowards dictate my actions.”
Rome cursed again.
She grabbed his hand. “I have faith you’ll keep me safe. Besides, doesn’t it make sense to lure them out?”
He growled. “I’m not fucking using you as bait.”
She turned to Vander. “Is there any progress on identifying my stalker?”
“Guy’s a ghost,” Ace said.
“No one’s a ghost,” Vander said.
“I’ve been analyzing all the CCTV from the Palace Hotel security,” Ace said. “Seeing if anyone popped coming in and out. Tedious, and it’s totally possible he slipped in without being spotted by a camera.”
“So, you’ve got nothing?” Rome said.
“I didn’t say that.” Ace grinned. “I am brilliant, after all.”
An image appeared on the screen. It showed a room filled with smoke, with the dark shape of a man.
“This was taken from the ballroom where Sofie beaned the guy with a chair,” Ace said.
Vander stared at the screen. “Not much to go on.”
“He’s about six feet tall, give or take. Slim build.”
“It’s a start.” Rome glared at the shadowy shape. You can’t have her, asshole. I will stop you.
“I got something else via Hunt,” Ace continued.
A picture of a trim woman with ash-blonde hair flicked up on screen.
Sofie straightened like she’d been prodded. “That’s Chantal Lockwood. She organized the luncheon at the Palace Hotel. She’s a British socialite. She’s pleasant, friendly. We move in similar circles.”
Ace crossed his arms. “She purchased the makings of a firebomb a few days ago. Likely used in the firebombing at the first robbery.”
Sofie gasped. “No. It can’t be. I like her. I trust her.”
Rome gripped Sofie’s shoulder. “What do you know about her?”
Sofie swallowed. “She’s in her mid-forties, and married to a wealthy British viscount, and travels around the world doing her charity work. Her husband is in his eighties and it’s rumored she likes men.” Sofie wrinkled her nose.
“What?” Rome prompted.
“It’s just gossip…”
“Tell us.”
“She likes her men young…and a little kinky. Look, she can’t be involved with this.”
“Is there anything linking Lockwood to the Black Fox gang?” Vander asked.
“Nothing overt,” Ace conceded. “But my search did find this.”
It was a still from a CCTV security feed. It showed Chantal and Boris Petrovich meeting at a coffee shop at Fisherman’s Wharf.
“Could be a coincidence,” Vander said, sounding unconvinced.
Rome studied the way the