Chapter 60

Alistair’s POV

I sat in the quiet lounge, glancing at my watch. Lyra was taking too long to return, and a flutter of worry settled in my chest. What could possibly be keeping her? I shifted in my seat and stared at the polished floor, willing the seconds to pass faster.

Just then, one of the staff appeared, carrying a silver tray with two steaming cups of coffee. She set it down carefully on the small stool beside me. “Sir, we brought your coffee.”

I frowned at the cups. My patience had worn thin. “Forget this,” I muttered under my breath, pushing myself upright. Without another word, I strode out of the lounge and toward the elevator.

Inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the VIP floor. The soft hum of machinery surrounded me as I rode upward, heart thudding with impatience. When the doors finally slid open, I heard raised voices ahead. One voice was unmistakably Lyra’s—clear, steady, determined—while the other was foreign to my ears, laced wi