The Billionaire Renegade

Couldn’t his brother have brought this up away from all these prying eyes? “She’s professional. And this is business.”

Jack grinned. “Would you have volunteered for the charity board if she wasn’t involved?”

Conrad snapped his case shut. “I’ve always been loyal to the family.” That went without saying. Although it was best to go ahead and address the elephant in the room. “I’m not denying I want to spend more time with her. It’s nice how life lines up sometimes.”

Saving him from further questions, Naomi Steele-Miller pushed open the door. His niece had faced death as a teen and many had thought she wouldn’t survive cancer. Conrad hadn’t been sure how his brother would make it through losing another child after Breanna. Thank God, that hadn’t happened.

And as it turned out, he hadn’t lost Breanna either.

Standing, Conrad pulled out a chair for his niece. Brea and Naomi had looked so much alike as children. How was it that they’d all missed any resemblance when Breanna, posing as Milla Jones, had taken a job as a receptionist? Of course, her hair had been bleached blond. Could they have all been thrown off by something that simple?

Although Brea and Naomi were fraternal twins, not identical.

Naomi pulled her chair into place. “Thank you for being patient. Sorry I’m late. It took longer to settle the girls than I expected.”

Conrad snagged another copy of the children’s book and passed it to his niece. An attorney for Alaska Oil Barons Inc., she had only just started coming to work without her twin daughters in a double stroller. She and her husband worked from home as much as possible. Her husband, Royce, was a research scientist for the corporation.

Jack took a swallow from his water glass before starting. “No need to apologize, Naomi. Everyone else only just arrived.”

Everyone?

Strangely, there were no other board members there—or rather, no one who wasn’t a family member. Could this meeting have a different agenda?

Jack cupped the glass, his jaw tight. “Shana called with an update into the investigation.”

Conrad straightened in his seat. Shana and Chuck Mikkelson were taking a train ride to North Dakota to house hunt for their upcoming move. Chuck was taking a job heading up offices at that end of the pipeline. For her to call, it must have been important. All eyes were trained on Jack.

“Milla Jones—Brea—has made contact through an attorney. She’s willing to talk as long as there’s legal representation present.”

Conrad couldn’t miss the toll this was taking on his older brother. Stark lines fanned from his eyes, dark circles underneath.

Jack shook his head, scraping his hand through his hair. “She’s our Brea, but she wants lawyers to be involved in the reunion? It’s so surreal.”

Jeannie rested a hand on her husband’s arm. “She’s been gone a long time. There’s no telling what she’s been through. Let’s focus on the fact she’s reached out.”

Broderick snorted in disgust. “Because she got word we were closing in on her.”

“That’s rather cynical,” Jack said.

“I’m just setting realistic expectations, Dad. No matter who she is, we can’t forget she was leaking corporate secrets before she ran away without a word to any of us.”

Jack pushed his water glass away. “No matter what happened when she came here as Milla Jones, she is our Breanna. Nothing is more important than that.”

Nods made their way around the table, some more reluctant than others.

Jeannie rolled her chair back. “Let’s break for a few, get our heads in the game again, then reconvene to discuss the latest round of contract negotiations with Ward Benally.”

A wise suggestion to take a breather, given the tension pulsing from both the Steeles and the Mikkelsons. There’d been recent allegations made that someone in the Mikkelson family could have been involved in Brea’s disappearance. It seemed inconceivable, but then so did the possibility that Brea could truly be alive.

These days, anything was possible.

Conrad tossed his tablet into his briefcase. Since he’d weighed in with his written feedback, Conrad took the opportunity to step out of this portion of the meeting.

Once back in the corridor, he turned on his cell and it immediately buzzed with missed calls and texts.

And right at the top of the list of those who’d phoned?

Felicity Hunt.

Felicity tried not to stare at her phone on her kitchen counter.

Calling Conrad had been an impulsive move, which was surprising in and of itself since she wasn’t the impulsive type. But when a friend from work had texted her with questions about a rumor regarding Breanna Steele... Felicity had found herself remembering a discussion with Conrad about how devastating his niece’s disappearance had been for him.

Felicity punched in Conrad’s number before she could think.

Property in Alaska was costly and social workers didn’t bring in large paychecks. Since she lived alone and spent most of her free time at work, it made sense to rent a one-bedroom apartment. She hadn’t brought anything from Texas with her anyway, preferring to leave all her furniture and the bad memories associated with it behind her.

Her living area was tight, but comfy, with a generic tan sofa alongside a space-saver rattan chair, and her one indulgence—a fat, raspberry-colored reading chair perched by the window and under a skylight. She missed her Texas sun but couldn’t deny the magnificence of the views here were unrivaled.

She’d wanted a place far from memories of her painful past, and she’d found a haven here.

Turning back to her coffeepot, she tapped the “water only” feature to make tea. She pulled a mug from the cabinet, a stoneware piece she’d bought at a local festival. Leaving her belongings behind had offered the opportunity to explore new styles and reinvent herself.

She’d kept the most important things in her life, letters from people who cared about her. Foster siblings. Her final foster parents. A social worker who’d made a world of difference in her life.

Her work meant everything to her. She still couldn’t ever turn her back on the career that gave her purpose. Her life’s calling was to make the same difference for helpless children.

A mantra she repeated to herself daily.

More than once daily lately, since Conrad Steele had entered her world.

She blew in her tea before taking a sip. The warmth soothed her nerves.

Her phone chimed, and she reached for the cell while lifting her mug for another drink. The name on the screen stilled her hand.

Conrad Steele.

Her heart leaped at the incoming call, too much. But she wasn’t going to play games by making it ring longer. She was an adult.

She thumbed the speakerphone. “Hello, Conrad.”

“I see I missed a call from you.”

In spite of insisting to herself this was no big deal, she found herself tongue-tied. “I don’t want to be presumptuous. I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Things are still on track for the hospital donations. No need to be concerned.”

She hated that he thought her reason for calling could be only self-serving. “I heard there’s news about your niece. I don’t want to pry and invade your family’s privacy, but I thought of you—”