Mathias sank onto the edge of the mattress, the springs groaning under a weight that had nothing to do with his frame.
"They're becoming a nuisance," he said, tugging at his collar as if the very air in the room had grown too thick to breathe. "I'll handle Leon. You deal with Isabella. We have an understanding?"
"Fine," Olivia murmured. She didn't look at him. Her focus was anchored to the small, obsidian shape curled in her lap. She ran a thumb over the creature's fur, her touch rhythmic and distant.
Mathias tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over the kitten with a clinical, detached curiosity. "So... do you like it?"
"What? Oh. He's... fine." She hesitated, the silence stretching thin. "Have you thought of a name? He needs one if he's staying."
Olivia traced the curve of the cat's ear. For the first time in days, the ice in her voice seemed to thaw, if only for the animal. "I don't know. 'Black,' perhaps. It fits."
