“Don’t be nervous. Let her talk on her own,” Hanz whispered while adjusting the tiny microphone hidden inside his jacket. He sat across from Devandra in the corner of an elegant café—a place they had strategically chosen.

Devandra leaned back, outwardly calm, though inside, his heart was burning. This was the moment he’d been waiting for ever since Lyra’s lies had come to light.

A few minutes later, the café door swung open.

Lyra entered, as glamorous as ever. Her hair ...