Lucas sat slumped at his desk, his head in his hands. A half-empty glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers.
The light of the desk lamp cast shadows across his face, making his sharp features look even more severe. His jacket hung over the back of his chair, and his tie was loose, as if he’d given up halfway through the effort of taking it off.
The silence in the room felt suffocating, broken only by the occasional clink of ice against glass.
A soft knock broke the silence, followed by the door creaked open. Lucas didn’t bother looking up.
“Lucas?” Damien’s voice was cautious as he stepped into the room, noticing the tension in Lucas’s posture.
“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
Damien stepped inside, uninvited, his usual composed expression slightly marred by con
