Fabiola let herself sag back against the wall.

'He's a nasty piece of work,' said Jovina from the hallway. She pursed her lips. 'Dangerous.'

'Damn you! Sextus and I have better reason to know that than anyone else here,' Fabiola shouted. 'You were quick enough to tell him that I was the new owner too. We haven't even drawn up a bill of sale!'

Jovina made a show of innocence which failed miserably.

'I should just walk out,' Fabiola cried. 'Leave you in the shit as you deserve!'

'No!' Tears sprang to Jovina's rheumy eyes, and she raised her joined hands in supplication. 'Please,' she whispered. 'I am an old woman. He frightens me so much.'

Fabiola bit down on her anger. The madam was completely untrustworthy, but there was no need to act prematurely. Jovina would be of use while she got to know her way around the Lupanar. After thirty years in charge, she was a mine of potential information. She just needed to be kept on a short leash. 'I've been thinking,' Fabiola said brightly. 'Better to pay half the amount we agreed up front, and the rest in twelve months. Depending on how well business has picked up, of course.'

Jovina looked unhappy, but she shrank before Fabiola's stony gaze. There would be few – if any – offers to better her former slave's one. 'Very well,' she simpered. 'It doesn't matter to me.'

'Good. Write down what we've agreed then.'

Meekly, the madam shuffled to her desk and found a strip of clean parchment. Dipping a stylus into a glass inkpot, she scrawled a few lines on it before adding a signature at the bottom. She waited in silence as Fabiola countersigned it. 'Satisfied?' she ventured.

Scanning the completed document again, Fabiola slipped it into her purse. There was little doubt in her mind that Jovina had written all that she needed to take ownership of the brothel, but she was no expert in legal terminology. Everything had to be correct with this purchase. 'I'll have my lawyer check it over,' she replied curtly. 'If it meets with his approval, the money will be delivered by the following day.'

Expecting nothing less, Jovina nodded.

'I'll take immediate possession,' Fabiola announced. 'Do you want to stay on?'

The madam began to answer, but another heavy bout of coughing prevented her.

'Will your health allow it?'

Wiping sputum from her lips, Jovina composed herself. 'The gods will decide,' she said. 'With your permission, I'll stay. For a little while.'

Fabiola could see that Jovina was trying to preserve her own dignity. She would allow her that. 'Very well,' she answered, all business now. Indicating that Sextus should check the situation outside, Fabiola stalked to the door. 'I'll be back in two days, the gods willing.'

Jovina bobbed her head gratefully.

'It's safe, Mistress,' called Sextus.

With Vettius taking up the rear, Fabiola emerged on to the busy street. There was no sign of Scaevola or his men. She scanned the faces of all those in sight, but, to her relief, recognised none. Once more this was just another small thoroughfare in Rome. Why bother having me followed? Fabiola thought, weariness filling her. The bastard knows that I'll be here every day in future. Old fear swamped her anew. How was she going to defend the Lupanar against Scaevola's thugs, let alone turn the fortunes of the business around? That was before the fugitivarius tried to take his revenge on her. To Fabiola's shame, her next inclination was to walk away from the brothel and never return. Jovina would be powerless to stop her, and Scaevola would never dare attack her at Brutus' house. In a heartbeat, all her problems would disappear.

At that prospect, Fabiola's spirits plunged into the depths. This opportunity had seemed perfect – heaven sent, even. She glanced at the sky, willing a sign to appear. Nothing did. Maybe new dealings with the Lupanar were just not meant to be. Contemplating the climb-down made Fabiola feel like a complete coward, but she was terrified of Scaevola. What else could she do?

It was then that she stumbled on the uneven ground, and nearly fell.

Solicitous as ever, Sextus caught her with a strong grip. Fabiola muttered her thanks and they exchanged a look. The slave saw her fear. 'Don't worry, Mistress,' he muttered. 'Think of all the dangers that we've survived since you first met that whoreson. The gods will not desert us now.'

Fabiola managed a smile. Sextus was right, she thought. Their lives had been charmed. Taking strength from his words, she headed in the direction of her domus. The first thing to deal with would be Brutus' reaction to her recent purchase. Even if he approved, Fabiola did not think that he would want his legionaries standing guard outside a brothel. Her lover was in the business of winning back popularity for Caesar, not losing it. Yet she had to have protection against Scaevola. Secundus, the veteran who'd repeatedly saved her life, came to mind, but Fabiola discarded that idea at once. With their pensions and land grants honoured, he and his men were now loyal to Caesar.

Apart from Sextus and the doormen, Fabiola was on her own again. She made a snap decision. It was time to call on every possible means of help, and not just the aid of Jupiter and Mithras, her favourite deities. There were darker gods than those in Rome. I will make an offering to Orcus, Fabiola decided. Fear clutched her at the very idea. Despite all her past troubles, she had steered away from worshipping the god of the underworld.

Now it was time. Brutus had not returned when they reached the domus, which pleased Fabiola. She had still not composed herself totally and didn't want to have to try. Too much was going on in her mind. She could put up a blank facade for the servants and the legionaries on guard, but hadn't banked on Docilosa's ability to read her like a book. Since becoming friends in the Lupanar, they had been through much together. Short, plain and similar in age to Fabiola's mother, the former domestic slave was now her closest confidante. Fabiola wasn't that surprised therefore when Docilosa noticed her low mood.

'What's happened?' she cried. Rather than greeting Vettius warmly, she glared at him. 'What's he doing here? Did that hag do something?' Docilosa was the only one who knew where Fabiola and Sextus had gone.

'I'm fine,' Fabiola protested. 'And Jovina's ill. Close to Hades, I'd say.'

Vettius nodded in pleased agreement.

'Small loss she'll be,' shrugged Docilosa. She had as much reason as Fabiola, and more, to hate her former owner.

'The old crone has no fight left in her,' Fabiola went on, keen to relate her success. 'I forced her to sell me the Lupanar – on my terms.'

Docilosa's eyebrows shot up. 'Is that the best way to move forward? When you escaped that world, you never wanted to return to it.'

'This is different,' replied Fabiola, trying to sound convincing. 'I'm the owner now, not a whore. No one will be picking me out from the line.'

'The fools will try,' responded Docilosa tartly. 'You'll be the best-looking woman there.'

Fabiola smiled. 'In that case, they'll have Vettius and Benignus to deal with. And Sextus.' An image of the fugitivarius popped into her mind and her face fell. Over-amorous politicians and merchants were going to be the least of her worries.

'What's wrong, then?' Docilosa asked. 'You look scared.'

Fabiola's chin trembled. 'Somebody came into the brothel while I was there.'

'Who?' Docilosa demanded. 'Memor?'

Vettius growled low in his throat.

Fabiola shuddered. 'Not him.' The cold, scarred lanista had enjoyed her company on frequent occasions near the end of her time in the Lupanar. Of course the feeling had not been mutual; Memor's only purpose in her life had been as a source of information, a function he had ultimately fulfilled by revealing some of Romulus' story since the twins' traumatic parting. While coupling with the lanista had been unpleasant, it paled into insignificance beside what Scaevola would do to her. 'Someone far worse,' she whispered.