MATEO’S POV

"Pour me a drink, Leo."

"Yes, Mr. Thompson. Rough day?"

I stood by the glass window of my office, watching the busy streets below. I didn't turn around.

"A confusing one," I said softly.

I heard ice clink against glass. Leo, my trusted assistant, walked over and handed me a glass of whiskey.

"Did Ms. Evans accept the invitation to Venice, sir?" Leo asked.

I took a slow sip of the liquid. "No. She turned me down."

Leo paused, looking genuinely shocked. "She said no to you? But the meeting went so well. You said she was smiling."

"She was," I nodded, staring at the drink in my...