Benjamin Gomez didn't budge. Instead, he reached out and caught Isabella Austin by the wrist. "What's going on?"

Isabella's face was pale, her lips almost white. "Something happened. I need your help.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, laced with panic. Her wide, helpless eyes pleaded with Benjamin, like a frightened animal cornered with nowhere to run.

Seeing her like this gave Benjamin a strange, inexplicable sense of satisfaction-as if she had no one else in the world to turn to but him.

He decided to draw out the moment, enjoying the rare sight of Isabella swallowing her pride. Calm and unhurried, he repeated, "What is it?"

Isabella clutched his wrist with both hands. "Can we talk on the way? Please, I'm really in a hurry."

But Benjamin only pulled her down into the chair beside him, keeping his tone cool. "Whatever it is, breakfast comes first. We eat, then we talk."

Isabella's urgency was written all over her face. “We can't! We have to go now—let's just skip breakfast."

Her raised voice startled Ashley, who looked up from her cereal. "Mom, what's wrong?"

Isabella shot her daughter a quick glance but didn't answer. She kept her grip tight on Benjamin's hand. “Benjamin, please. Ashley can stay here—the housekeeper's around. Let's talk outside?"

Benjamin slipped his hand from her grasp and pushed a plate of toast toward her. "Eat something first, okay?"

Isabella was desperate, but Benjamin was her only hope. She didn't dare push too hard, afraid he'd turn cold and shut her out.

He jerked his chin toward the breakfast spread. "Go on. Eat. We'll talk when you're done."

Left with no choice, Isabella forced herself to pick at her breakfast, each bite tasting like sawdust. She was too anxious to eat more than a few mouthfuls.

After barely touching her food, she stood abruptly. "I'm going to make a call."

Without waiting for a response, she hurried out to the balcony.

She dialed Brandon Ross's number, her hands trembling. Just yesterday, he'd sworn he hadn't caved to Emily Blair-hadn't given her up. So how did Emily suddenly turn up in Astoria with the evidence she needed?

The phone rang and rang, but no one answered. Finally, the call disconnected automatically.

Grinding her teeth, Isabella dialed Brandon and Helen Ross again and again. On the fifth attempt, Brandon finally picked up, sounding groggy. "Ms. Austin? Sorry, I just woke up."

She didn't bother with pleasantries. “What did you tell Emily Blair? Did you lie to me? Did you sell me out?"

Brandon's sleepiness vanished in an instant. "No! We didn't say anything, I swear."

She didn't believe him for a second. "Don't play dumb. The police are practically at my door, and you're still telling me nothing happened?"

"Wait-what?" Brandon stammered. "Police? What police? How did it get to that point?"

Idiot.

Isabella could barely contain her fury.

Matthew Ross had made her promise, back when they'd started working together, that Brandon and Helen would never know about the real situation. To this day, Brandon and Helen still believed Isabella was just a regular benefactor, nothing

more.

She pressed on, voice low and dangerous. "Tell me the truth. What exactly did you tell Emily Blair? This mess is out of hand now. If I go down, don't think you'll get away clean either."