Page 41 of The Art of Ruin

Outside the conference room, assistants move briskly through the corridor carrying laptops and coffee cups and a hundred problems that ultimately became mine if they grew large enough.

Most violence happened quietly.

Money was worse than bullets that way.

Nico closes the file carefully. “Find out who’s behind it.”

“I’m already working on it.”

“I know.”

Simple.

Absolute.

Trust like that should probably feel heavier than it does after all these years.

Instead, it feels inevitable.

Matteo pushes to his feet first, unable to stay seated once the room grows too serious for too long. He wanders toward the espresso machine against the wall, stares at it for a second, then apparently decides caffeine isn’t the answer to whatever’s wrong with him today.

“Good,” he says. “Glad we solved capitalism. Can I go threaten someone else now?”

“No,” Nico and I say simultaneously.

He looks offended. “You’re both deeply repressive.”

“You threatened a shareholder before noon.”

“He called Claire sweetheart.”

Nico rubs a hand slowly across his jaw, hiding what looks suspiciously like amusement. “Go home, Matteo.”

“For the record,” Matteo says, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair, “Claire cried because she was angry, not because she was weak.”

Then he disappears out the conference room doors, leaving behind the faint scent of expensive cologne and impending legal complications.

The room feels quieter immediately.

One of the associates exhales like she’s been holding her breath for twenty minutes.

Nico watches the closed doors for a second before looking back at me. “You okay?”

The question catches me slightly off guard. Not because Nico never asks. Because he notices when to. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve said that three times today.”

I glance down at the spreadsheets again, though I’ve already memorized half the numbers on the page. “It remains true.”

Nico studies me across the table with the kind of perception that makes lying inefficient.

Then, thankfully, he lets it go.

“For now,” he says instead. “Go home. You’ve been here since six.”

“Not all of us can work part-time hours.”

“I’m married. I like my house.”