Chapter 55

• Lucian
• I sank into the plush leather armchair by my office window, swirling the remaining amber liquid in my glass. The scotch glowed under the early dusk light, casting honeyed reflections across the Italian marble floor. Outside, the city skyline rose in jagged steel silhouettes, bathed in blood-orange sunset. But none of its beauty reached me today.
• My phone buzzed atop the glass table, rattling slightly against the crystal decanter. I ignored it at first, staring blankly at the shifting horizon. When it buzzed again, insistent, I snatched it up with an irritated sigh.