Page 5 of Problematic

I dropped my bag in the corner and shrugged on my delivery jacket, worn black canvas with the shop logo on the back. It still smelled like greenery and rain, even after everything else in my life had become permanently espresso scented.

Grabbing a pen, I flipped through the paperwork. Standard stuff.

Hospital. Apartment complex in Lower New Abaddon. Office in the finance district. Anniversary bouquet to some fancy restaurant.

Then my eyes caught on a line halfway down the second page.

Recipient: Lux TOWER, PH 1 Contact: Lux DRAVEN Notes: Hand delivery. Confirm receipt.

I froze.

The words blurred for a second, and my brain refused to focus.

Lux Tower.

Lux Draven.

My stomach did a neat little drop. I read it again, slower.

No, it was still there.

Lux Draven.

Every demon in New Abaddon knew that name. Even powerless nobodies like me. Especially powerless nobodies like me.

He ruled the city with an iron fist and zero patience. Old bloodline. Old power. The kind of demon you never looked in the eye if you wanted to keep your soul intact. The rumors about him were all the same flavor, just different levels of insane.

Reclusive. More shadow than man. Never seen outside his tower. The kind of ruthless that didn’t yell or bluster. The quiet kind. The efficient kind.

Lux Tower itself was its own myth. Black glass. Wards layered so thick no one knew what half of them did. No one got past the lobby without being invited. No one went to the top floors except his inner circle.

My blood ran cold and hot at the same time, leaving me weirdly dizzy. This had to be a mistake or some kind of prank. I turned on my heel and marched back toward the front, the paper clutched in my arms.

“Mrs. Kori?” My voice came out higher than I’d have liked.

She was now winning her war with the demon lily. It sat sulking in a vase, petals forced into the desired shape with small silver pins.

“What is it, child?” she asked, finally glancing up.

I held out the paperwork with both hands. “Is this real?”

She took it from me, eyes flicking across the lines, lips moving silently as she read. Then she shrugged, the shrug of someone who had seen everything twice.

“It is addressed to him,” she said.

“That could mean anything,” I tried. “Lux Tower is a company, right? Like, maybe this is some front desk thing. Corporate. PR. Something not terrifying.”

Her cloudy yellow eyes cut to mine.

“Look at the notes,” she said.

I already had. Hand delivery. Confirm receipt.

“Could be his assistant,” I said weakly.

“Could be.” She handed the paper back. “Or it could be him. You’ll find out when you get there, hmm?”

I stared at her.