Lyra's POV
Victor Vance.
The name stared back at me from the pristine white card, each letter carved in stark black ink. No fancy embossing, no elaborate design. Just a name and phone number beneath it, radiating the kind of quiet arrogance that belonged to men who never doubted doors would open when they knocked.
My thumb traced the edge of the card before I could stop myself. The corner bent slightly under the pressure, leaving a tiny crease that somehow felt like sacrilege.
I had prepared myself for Benedict's betrayal. The possibility had lived in the back of my mind for weeks, a persistent ache I had grown accustomed to. I could handle discovering his treachery because part of me had already accepted it as inevitable. But Victor was an entirely different beast. Victor was the shadow in Kaelen's family tree, the uncle whose name alone could silence a room, the specter who haunted conversations without ever being present.
I had never laid eyes on this legendary monster.
