Page 177 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

He sighed and lowered his head onto his paws.

I lasted twelve minutes.

In my defense, my body needed rest, but my brain needed answers, and my brain had always been bad at staying in its assigned lane. I told myself I would only confirm the episode details. Then I told myself I would only look up Dimitris’s public collection records. Then I found his foundation site, which had a contact page and a business email that looked too general to matter.

I wrote the message carefully.

Dear Mr. Burelian’s office,

My name is Quinn Bradley, and I am working with the legal team representing the Virelli family in matters relating to several family artifacts displaced during the Winged War. I recently viewed an episode of Private Rooms featuring Mr. Burelian’s collection and noticed an incense burner that may correspond to one of the Virelli family’s missing heirlooms. I would be grateful for the opportunity to discuss the object’s provenance or direct this inquiry to the appropriate representative.

Sincerely,

Quinn Bradley

I hit send.

Nothing would come of it, obviously. Billionaire phoenix collectors didn’t answer general inbox messages from feverish interns who had eaten ramen in bed. His assistant would ignore it, delete it, or flag it for someone whose job title included words like acquisitions and no.

Max stood, stretched, and nosed my hand.

“Fine. Dinner.”

I fed him, measuring his supplement from the blue-lidded container and adding the meat from the silver one exactly the way Rafe had done, which made my chest feel stupid. Max ate with excellent focus, then followed me back to bed and allowed me to lean over the side to scratch behind his ears.

“You know this is becoming a problem,” I told him.

He licked my wrist once.

“I can’t fall for him.”

Max yawned. He settled on the rug beside the bed.

I checked my email before putting my phone down. Then I picked my phone up again and refreshed the app, because I had already ruined the moral high ground.

A new message appeared.

Subject: Re: Provenance Inquiry — Virelli Family Incense Burner

My fever vanished for approximately half a second.

I opened it.

Ms. Bradley,

Mr. Burelian would be delighted to receive you and Mr. Virelli to discuss the matter in person. Tomorrow afternoon, if convenient.

Please confirm.

I sat straight up.

Max lifted his head.

I read the email again. “Well,” I whispered.

Could it possibly be that easy?

Max stared at me.