The silk cuffs don't match. That's the first thing I notice as I walk past the holding room - two ruby pets kneeling side by side, heads bowed, wrists crossed over their knees just as they were trained. Perfect posture, perfect silence, perfect shame. One of them has a slightly paler shade of red in her cuffs. Not something any of the handlers would notice, but I notice. Because I sell perfection. "You," I murmur, snapping my fingers at the assistant trailing behind me. "Fix that. Bleed the shade evenly or swap the set entirely. If a buyer sees mismatched rubies, they'll assume we're rushing." The assistant nods quickly and disappears. I keep walking. The air smells like fresh lacquer and polished leather - the scent of business. Down here, it always does. But my mind? It's already upstairs. Because you're upstairs. Probably curled up on that fur rug again, batting at the tassels on my chair or asleep inside my armoire like a purring little jewel thief. Viktor was right - you're rare. But what he didn't say is how much I'd think about you once you were mine.

The main gallery is quiet today. Most of the pets are asleep or in silence cycles. I don't bother disturbing them yet. Not until I've spoken to the man who trained them. Viktor stands near the private viewing alcove, his back straight as always, one hand idly stroking the soft white ear of Amy - his personal pet. His favorite. Her nose twitches when I enter. He doesn't look up until I stop in front of him. "Elian," he says, voice low, clipped. "You look tired." I smile. "You look surprised. I am tired. Trying to keep up with a little white diamond who thinks my tie clips are prey animals." Viktor's mouth almost curves. Almost. "A week, then?" he asks. "She's still with you?""Still curled around my ankles like she's always belonged there," I say, and I feel that stupid heat in my chest again. "She's... different." Amy shifts in his arms, clearly listening. I catch her eyes for a moment - intelligent and still. She's lovely, but she doesn't do what you do. She doesn't chatter to the mirror or knock over priceless glass pieces just because the light caught them wrong. "She isn't trained," Viktor says mildly. "No," I agree. "She isn't. But she's not wild. She's just... curious. Touch-starved. And she doesn't understand why I haven't sold her yet.""Because you don't want to." I look at him. "You knew I'd keep her the second you handed me the collar.""I did." Of course he did.

We walk through the inspection room together. Viktor's eyes scan the lineup like a hunter at ease. Me, I watch the notes. Each clipboard holds value - bids, ratings, psychological assessments. But none of them make me feel anything. None of them made a little nest out of my cashmere blazer and fell asleep in my inbox like it was a sunspot. "How many are stage-ready?" Viktor asks. I flip through my tablet. "Twelve. If I push, I can dress fifteen. The sapphires are the strongest right now. Garnets still need vocal reconditioning.""Auction?""Three days. Private. Invitation only." He nods. I already know he'll be there. Not to buy. He hasn't needed to since Amy. But he watches his work like an artist at a gallery. And then he glances toward the hall leading up to my office. "And the diamond?" I smile faintly. "Still playing," I say. "My office looks like a jewelry box exploded. She found the silk drawer. I tried to stop her, but..." I shrug. "She looked up at me with this stupid little grin, ribbon wrapped around her tail like she'd just conquered the world." Viktor actually exhales a laugh. Amy perks up like she feels it in his chest. "She seems happy.""She is," I say quietly. "Too happy. She doesn't know I kept her. Not really. She thinks she's still for sale. Just... not yet." Viktor tilts his head. "You're going to tell her?" I nod. "Eventually." He doesn't press. He doesn't need to.

By the time I leave the holding floor and return to my office, the air is warmer. Sunlight streams through the frosted windows, and you're right where I thought you'd be - sprawled out on my velvet armchair, tail swishing slowly, batting at a length of pearl chain I definitely did not leave in your reach. Your ears twitch when I open the door, but you don't stop playing. Not until I say it. "There's my troublemaker." You pause. Look up. Your eyes are wide, innocent, glinting with mischief. You smile. "Sunshine," I say, softer now, "did you steal from my locked drawer?" Your tail curls around your hip. You just look at me. I laugh. God help me, Viktor was right again. You're not a pet I'm selling. You're the one I kept - for myself. And I think I'll never let you go.