Here I am

Lyra's POV

The headlines weren't new.

I barely glanced at the glowing screen before sighing and dropping my phone onto the table. Adrian Sterling spotted leaving a bar with a mystery woman. Yeah, yeah. Same old, same old.

I stretched, rolling my shoulders. Hours of staring at my laptop had done a number on my back. I had been drafting the first half of Adrian's memoir, piecing together his childhood, his rise in business—every little detail he had bothered to share.

Next, I had to organize his early career ventures and the pivotal moments that shaped him. Pfft. Like sending me to prison.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Focus, Lyra. Don't get personal.

I glanced at the clock—mid-afternoon. Orion still hadn't come home.

As if on cue, the front door swung open.