Two hours later, Maya entered the consultation room holding Luna's results.

Niko stood immediately.

“Well?”

“She's okay.”

His shoulders dropped slightly.

Maya noticed.

“But?”

“There are traces consistent with a sedative she shouldn't have needed.”

“How long?”

“I can't give you an exact date from this alone.”

Niko looked at Luna.

“Could it hurt her?”

“At the levels I'm seeing? She's fine. But that's not the point.”

“No.”

Maya sat opposite him.

“Someone transported your cat to a clinic and authorized unnecessary treatment under your name.”

Marco leaned against the wall.

“We contacted that clinic.”

“And?”

“The veterinarian remembered Luna.”

Maya waited.

Marco continued.

“A man brought her in claiming he worked for Mr. Bellini.”

“Description?”

“Middle-aged. Expensive suit. Gray hair.”

Niko said, “Three people have access to the account involved in the false invoices.”

Maya understood.

“And one matches that description?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

Niko hesitated.

“Anthony Rizzo. My property director.”

Maya leaned back.

“How long has he worked for you?”

“Fourteen years.”

“And you're sure?”

“No.”

The answer surprised her.

Niko continued.

“That's why I'm not accusing him.”

Maya studied him.

“You're different from what people say.”

His gaze met hers.

“What do people say?”

“That you're terrifying.”

Marco raised one finger.

“Accurate.”

Niko looked at him.

Marco lowered the finger.

Maya smiled.

“They also say you don't trust anyone.”

“That part is closer.”

“But you trust Marco.”

Niko glanced toward him.

“Against my better judgment.”

“Touching,” Marco said.

“And Luna.”

Niko looked at the cat.

Luna immediately climbed into Maya's lap.

His expression darkened.

“I used to.”

Maya laughed.

Over the next several days, Luna became an unexpected bridge between them.

Niko called about the bandage.

Then about Luna's appetite.

Then because Luna had removed the bandage.

Then because she had removed the replacement.

On the fourth call, Maya interrupted him.

“Niko.”

“Yes?”

“Is Luna actually doing anything wrong?”

Silence.

“No.”

“Then why are you calling?”

Another silence.

Marco's distant voice came through the phone.

“Answer carefully, boss.”

Niko said something in Italian.

Marco laughed.

Maya leaned against her desk.

“Niko?”

“I wanted to know if coffee interferes with feline recovery.”

Maya blinked.

“You gave Luna coffee?”

“No.”

“Then what are we discussing?”

“Coffee.”

“For whom?”

“You.”

Maya went quiet.

Niko's voice lowered.

“Dinner seemed too ambitious.”

“So you started with veterinary caffeine?”

“I was improvising.”

She smiled.

“Tomorrow. Seven thirty.”

“Morning?”

“That's traditionally when coffee happens.”

“I'll be there.”

He arrived at seven fifteen.

Without Marco.

Without the black suit.

Dark trousers. Open-collar black shirt. Tattoos visible along his forearms.

Maya stared for half a second too long.

Niko noticed.

“Problem?”

“No.”

“You looked concerned.”

“Veterinary instinct.”

“Do I need sedation?”

She nearly spit out her coffee.

For twenty minutes, they talked about everything except business.

Maya told him why she had opened her own clinic.

“I worked for a corporate chain first.”

“You hated it.”

“I hated being told every appointment had to fit into twelve minutes.”

“So you quit.”

“I borrowed money I absolutely shouldn't have borrowed and opened this place.”

“Risky.”

“Worth it.”

Niko nodded.

“I understand that.”

Her phone rang.

The receptionist.

“Maya?”

“What happened?”

“Someone broke into the clinic.”

Maya stood.

“What?”

“The back office. Nothing obvious is missing.”

Niko was already on his feet.

Maya's expression changed.

“The only thing unusual in that office…”

Niko finished the thought.

“Luna's blood results.”

---