Caleb wove through the crowd, his pulse steady, his face unreadable. Dante had taken the bait, but there was no relief in it. Lies didn't settle debts; they only postponed them. Every move from here had to be precise. If Dante followed the fabricated lead and found nothing, Caleb was as good as dead. He reached the bar, nodding at the bartender without saying a word. A glass of something amber was placed in front of him, but he didn't touch it. Across the room, Lyra was watching him from her usual spot near the back. He gave her the smallest tilt of his head before turning away. No need to be obvious. A shadow slid into the seat beside him. "You don't look like a man who just saved his own skin," a voice murmured. Caleb didn't react immediately. Then he turned, meeting the sharp gaze of Elias, one of Dante's senior lieutenants. Not someone he wanted sitting this close. "Didn't realize I needed a reason to have a drink," Caleb said smoothly. Elias chuckled, slow and knowing. "You don't. But let's not pretend you aren't playing a dangerous game." Caleb took a calculated pause before answering. "If I were, I wouldn't be the only one." Elias's smirk deepened. "That's what makes it fun." He lifted his own glass, studying Caleb over the rim. "Dante trusts you, for now. But if this lead of yours turns up empty…" He let the words hang, the unspoken threat sharper than a blade. Caleb met his gaze evenly. "Then I'll deal with it." Elias tapped his fingers against his glass. "I hope you do. I'd hate to see things get messy." He drained the last of his drink and stood, adjusting his cuffs like this was just another casual conversation. "Enjoy your night, Caleb." Then he was gone, disappearing back into the sea of people. Caleb exhaled slowly. The walls were closing in, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep walking this edge before he fell.