Page 74 of Titus

“Of course I stayed,” he said in a tone that made me believe he thought I was crazy for thinking he’d leave.

I stared blindly out over the black water below Monaco, trying to process the image of Titus Hawk sitting in a Saint John’s waiting room because of my sister.

“She lost her phone and asked me to call you,” he continued. “I also wanted to ask whether there’s family or someone nearby for her.”

I let out a slow breath. “Our mother lives in Madrid,” I said flatly. “And Amelia barely speaks to her.”

“Does she have any friends in Southern California?” he asked.

I should be thinking of these things, not Titus. My mind was suddenly so scattered, and I needed to pull my shit together for my sister and fast.

“Yes,” I answered quickly. “Her best friend lives in Beverly Hills. I’ll call her right now.”

“Excellent. I’ll stay until someone gets here,” he said calmly. “Or until Amelia tells me it’s all right for me to leave.”

My throat tightened unexpectedly. “Titus, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he answered immediately. “But I’m going to.”

And somehow… that affected me far more than it should have.

“Thank you,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief that this was happening. “I’ll call her friend, speak with my clients, and try to secure the next flight out.”

“You’re in Monaco?” he questioned.

“Yes,” I answered.

“My brother, Wyatt, is attending the event you’re hosting. If you’re comfortable with it, I’ll have him arrange with my flight crew to bring you both back on my jet.”

“You don’t need to do that,” I said more firmly. “You’ve gone above and⁠—”

“Catalina,” he said, cutting me off, “I know I don’t need to, but I’m going to. There is no reason to go through the process of securing an airline flight when you can be on my jet within the hour.”

“And your brother?”

“My brother will conclude the reasons for his attendance and will accompany you on the return flight, if you are comfortable with it, of course.”

“Why don’t I call you back after I have a more solid plan? Right now, I need to call Amelia’s friend, Jessica, and speak with my clients.”

“Do that, and I’ll keep you updated on any new information I receive from your sister.”

“Thank you,” I absently nodded.

“I’ll make Wyatt aware as well and have my jet’s crew on standby, waiting for your word on whether to use them to fly back to the States.”

“It’s one in the morning,” I said. “They’re probably sleeping.”

“Nonsense,” I heard him almost laugh on the other end of the phone. “My flight crew knows they could be called at any moment with new itineraries. Focus on your side, and I’ll have answers and assistance ready on my end.”

“You’re right. I need to make some calls. I’ll be in touch.”

By the time I finished speaking with Amelia’s friend, secured temporary oversight of the Kaurent disaster, notified Titus, and finally left the yacht, the storm over Monaco had begun to calm.

Barely.

Rain still lashed across the marina in violent bursts, while black water crashed against the docks hard enough to shake the massive yachts anchored throughout Port Hercules.

I stepped off the dock to see a line of black SUVs waiting near the private marina entrance beneath the glowing security lights, engines already running.