CHAPTER 58

NO SECOND CHANCES

The faint hum of jazz floated through the air, mixing with the distant sound of city traffic.

Lucas sat in his tidy apartment, buried in stacks of paperwork. His study was pristine—everything arranged in sharp order, just the way he liked it. The only thing out of place was the cup of coffee beside him, untouched, steam curling lazily into the air.

He scribbled notes on a legal brief, eyes sharp and focused.

Then, his phone buzzed.

He glanced down, saw ...