Chapter Eighty-Two
*Chaos in the Dark*
The bar was quiet, a place of dim lights and tired faces. Alexander Byrne sat on a stool, his third whiskey sitting half-finished in front of him. The ice had melted. He wasn’t drinking to feel good. He was drinking to forget. To forget Lyra’s face in the church, full of cold fury. To forget her calm elegance at the Lax dinner. To forget that she was now living in a penthouse in the sky, while he was here, smelling of cheap wood polish and regret.
His phone buzzed on the bar, dancing on the sticky surface. Saphira. He stared at it, the name blurring. He didn’t want to answer. She was the reason, the beautiful, spoiled reason, for all of this.
It buzzed again. And again. Relentless.
With a grunt, he picked it up. “What?”
“Alex! Finally!” Saphira’
